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katnissmellarkkk · 2 years

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Okay, here’s Everlark’s Most Married Moments Part Two 🤗. This took me forever and three days to do because it’s super difficult for me to decide which moments to use from Catching Fire and which not, considering they acted very married-like throughout the second half of that entire book.

Edit: Anywaysss I edited this now to condense it because it was too long when I posted it hours ago but here it is now 🥰🥰🥰🥰. Still long but not quite as long.

Peeta comes by every day to bring me cheese buns and begins to help me work on the family book. […] For a long time, I’ve wanted to record my own knowledge in it. Things I learned from experience or from Gale, and then the information I picked up when I was training for the Games. I didn’t because I’m no artist and it’s so crucial that the pictures are drawn in exact detail. That’s where Peeta comes in. Some of the plants he knows already, others we have dried samples of, and others I have to describe. He makes sketches on scrap paper until I’m satisfied they’re right, then I let him draw them in the book. After that, I carefully print all I know about the plant.

It’s quiet, absorbing work that helps take my mind off my troubles. I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blonde. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.

“Peeta's argument is that since I chose you, I now owe him. Anything he wants. And what he wants is the chance to go in again to protect you,” says Haymitch.

I knew it. In this way, Peeta's not hard to predict. While I was wallowing around on the floor of that cellar, thinking only of myself, he was here, thinking only of me.

“It's completely my business. However it falls out, two of us are going to be in the arena again with the other as mentor. We can't afford any drunkards on this team. Especially not you, Katniss,” says Peeta to me.

“What?” I sputter indignantly. It would be more convincing if I weren't still so hungover. “Last night's the only time I've ever even been drunk.”

“Yeah, and look at the shape you're in,” says Peeta.

I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this. I turn to Haymitch. “Don't worry, I'll get you more liquor.”

“Then I'll turn you both in. Let you sober up in the stocks,” says Peeta.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks. Sometimes that can help, but I just shake my head, feeling weak that people I haven't even fought yet already haunt me.

When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It's the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he's offered me any sort of affection. He's been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go.

“We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it.”

“Okay,” Peeta agrees. He puts in the tape and I curl up next to him on the couch with my milk, which is really delicious with the honey and spices, and lose myself in the Fiftieth Hunger Games.

“Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?” he asks, glancing around at the other victors. “Just another part of the freak show?”

“Sure. Especially you,” I say.

“Oh. And why especially me?” he says with a smile.

“Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don't,” I say with an air of superiority. “They would lure you into their Capitol ways and you'd be lost entirely.”

“Having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.”

“Shall we?” He holds out a hand to help me into the chariot.

I climb up and pull him up after me. “Hold still,” I say, and straighten his crown. “Have you seen your suit turned on? We're going to be fabulous again.”

I look up into those blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly and remember how, just a year ago, I was prepared to kill him. Convinced he was trying to kill me. Now everything is reversed. I'm determined to keep him alive, knowing the cost will be my own life, but the part of me that is not so brave as I could wish is glad that it's Peeta, not Haymitch, beside me. Our hands find each other without further discussion. Of course we will go into this as one.

We end up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Peeta about his paintings while the light of his still-glowing costume reflects off her bare breasts. When she leaves, I ignore him, but I just know he's grinning. I toss aside his hand as the doors close behind Chaff and Seeder, leaving us alone, and he breaks out laughing.

[…]

“It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so ... pure,” he says finally.

“I am not!” I say. “I've been practically ripping your clothes off every time there's been a camera for the last year!”

“Yeah, but ... I mean, for the Capitol, you're pure,” he says, clearly trying to mollify me. “For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you.”

“No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!” I say.

“No.” Peeta shakes his head, but he's still suppressing a smile. I'm seriously rethinking the question of who should get out of these Games alive when the other elevator opens.

“Well, you can have final say about our allies. But right now, I'm leaning toward Chaff and Seeder,” says Peeta.

“I'm okay with Seeder, not Chaff,” I say. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Come on and eat with him. I promise, I won't let him kiss you again,” says Peeta.

After training, Peeta and I hang out, waiting for Haymitch and Effie to show up for dinner. When we're called to eat, Haymitch pounces on me immediately. “So at least half the victors have instructed their mentors to request you as an ally. I know it can't be your sunny personality.”

“They saw her shoot,” says Peeta with a smile. “Actually, I saw her shoot, for real, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself.”

Peeta and I are finally left alone. He reaches across the table to take my hands. “Decided what to do for the Gamemakers yet?”

[…]

We sit in silence awhile and then I blurt out the thing that's on both our minds. “How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?”

“I don't know.” He leans his forehead down on our entwined hands.

“You'd have thought we planned it,” says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile.

“Didn't you?” asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light.

“No,” I say, looking at Peeta with a new sense of appreciation. “Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in.”

“And, Haymitch?” says Peeta. “We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena.”

“Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity,” he says.

“That's just what we were thinking,” I tell him.

Peeta walks me down to my room in silence, but before he can say good night, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. His hands slide up my back and his cheek leans against my hair. “I'm sorry if I made things worse,” I say.

Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people.

Peeta would lose it if he knew I was thinking any of this, so I only say, “So what should we do with our last few days?”

“I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you,” Peeta replies.

The moment we step off the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders. “There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologize for?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Hello, again,” he says, and gives me a kiss. “We've got allies.”

“Yes. Just as Haymitch intended,” I answer.

“Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?” Peeta asks.

“How are you?” he asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?”

“No, he has to rest,” I say. My nose is running like crazy and I don't even have a shred of fabric to use as a handkerchief. Mags rips off a handful of hanging moss from a tree limb and gives it to me. I'm too much of a mess to even question it. I blow my nose loudly and mop the tears off my face. It's nice, the moss. Absorbent and surprisingly soft.

I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta's chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask.

“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says.

“No, of course I don't mind.” I force a smile.

“Don't worry, I won't go far,” I promise Peeta.

“I'll go, too,” he says.

“No, I'm going to do some hunting if I can,” I tell him. I don't add, “And you can't come because you're too loud.” But it's implied. He would both scare off prey and endanger me with his heavy tread. “I won't be long.”

Nothing. I find nothing. Not so much as a dewdrop. Eventually, because I know Peeta will be worried about me, I head back to the camp, hotter and more frustrated than ever.

“I'm going to try to tap a tree,” I say. My fingers fumble at my belt and find the spile still hanging from its vine.

“Let me make the hole first,” says Peeta.

“Peeta,” I say as calmly as possible. “I need your help with something.”

“Okay, just a minute. I think I've just about got it,” he says, still occupied with the tree. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”

“I do. But we've found something you'd better take a look at,” I continue in a measured voice. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don't startle it.” For some reason, I don't want him to notice the monkeys, or even glance their way. There are creatures that interpret mere eye contact as aggression.

Peeta turns to us, panting from his work on the tree. The tone of my request is so odd that it's alerted him to some irregularity.

I catch sight of Peeta and Johanna standing at the tree line and I'm filled with a mixture of relief and anger. Why didn't Peeta come to help me? Why did no one come after us? Even now he hangs back, his hands raised, palms toward us, lips moving but no words reaching us. Why?

Peeta presses his hand against the surface and I put my own up to meet it, as if I can feel him through the wall. I see his lips moving but I can't hear him, can't hear anything outside our wedge. I try to make out what he's saying, but I can't focus, so I just stare at his face, doing my best to hang on to my sanity.

I know it's stopped when I feel Peeta's hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.

“It's all right, Katniss,” he whispers.

“Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?” Peeta says.

“Seven more of us die,” I say hopelessly.

“No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. “What happens? At the final eight?”

While Johanna collects water and my arrows, Beetee fiddles with his wire, and Finnick takes to the water. I need to clean up, too, but I stay in Peeta's arms, still too shaken to move.

Peeta and I volunteer for the first watch because we're better rested, and because we want some time alone. The others go out immediately, although Finnick's sleep is restless. Every now and then I hear him murmuring Annie's name.

Peeta and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip pressed against his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I'm still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can't drown out. After a while I rest my head against his shoulder. Feel his hand caress my hair.

“If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life,” he says. “I would never be happy again.” I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. “It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living.”

Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.”

[…]

“Thanks,” I say, closing my fist around it. I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent, the person who would keep me alive at his own expense. And I promise myself I will defeat his plan.

The laughter drains from those eyes, and they are staring so intensely into mine, it's like they can read my thoughts. “The locket didn't work, did it?” Peeta says, even though Finnick is right there. Even though everyone can hear him. “Katniss?”

There's nothing to do now but wait. Peeta and I sit at the edge of the water, hand in hand, wordless. He gave his speech last night but it didn't change my mind, and nothing I can say will change his. The time for persuasive gifts is over.

“I want to go with them as a guard,” Peeta says immediately. After the moment with the pearl, I know he's less willing than ever to let me out of his sight.

I take Peeta's face in my hands. “Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight.” I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna.

#everlark #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #bookcomb ♥️🔎#long post #i may come back and edit this Tomorrow #I’m so tired right now 😭😭

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roseandgold137 · 1 year

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For the fandom meme:

F, G, I, N, O, P, Q, R

👀👀👀👀👀👀

F- (edit bc I accidentally deleted this at some point and didn’t notice) Percy Jackson was probably my longest fandom bc I got into it young and I still engage with it pretty regularly. I’m definitely going to buy the sun and the star and I’ve read all the spin off series as well so I’m pretty confident saying that’s my longest fandom. My fav spin off was Magnus Chase

G- okay so as a kid I had like a lot of casual ships but first OTP was probably Percabeth. I submitted a fanfiction of them for a school assignment when I was nine. I think that’s all we really need to hear to know that they’re the answer.

I- I don’t think so? Like. I’ll come back to this if I remember any but I’m pretty sure we’re good on this one

N- okay fandom: dc

I know that in my circle of dc fan logs there’s a lot of Timber content but the wider community seems to still be mostly hung up on TimKon. And I get it, they’d be really cute and all but Timber

More Teen Titans (fab five) bc I think mostly when people talk about the teen titans they’re usually talking abt the cartoon series

put some respect on the names of female characters! And the queer characters! And the poc characters! So many problems in my life could be solved if people weren’t so fixated on the straight white males of the franchise

O- Song is Bubble Pop Electric by Gwen Stefani, it is very Birdflash or really any speedster ship to me, very nice bouncy beat reminds me of Bart also

P- AU: Canary Tim - I’ll elaborate on this bc it is one of my aus and is kind of the reason that some of my second gen bat ocs exist so it’s kind of relevant.

First Black Canary - Dinah Drake. Married Larry Lance, daughter was Dinah Lance, who became the next Black Canary. Do you see where I’m going with this. Tim Drake. Dinah Drake. There’s a very weak connection there technically so I just made Dinah his aunt. Based off of Dinah Drake and Dinah Lance, we can assume the canary meta gene is hereditary, ergo we’ll just send it Tim’s way as well.

He won’t have his activated until his late teens though bc I want him to have atrocious voice control for a good while so he gets shipped off to train with Black Canary until he won’t accidentally deafen everyone around him.

From there, he’ll graduate Robin to become some kind of Songbird. It was originally going to be Galah (bc pink) but I changed it to Blackbird so his kids could call him B and it would be very emotional for Bruce to watch history repeat itself with the nickname and whatnot. Also this way tim gets to keep his red black and gold colour scheme.

that’s the au part but the part where my oc Jasper couldn’t really exist outside of this au is bc he’s a meta with a voice ability, that’s similar to the Canary meta gene but he’s not related to any of them. He’s Australian so he travels to America to look for Black Canary. He can’t find her, he keeps on missing her by like a handful of minutes or hours, but he does find Tim, and at this point he’s fed up of looking for Dinah and settles for the 19-year-old Blackbird in front of him. Tim, who only really got control of his powers around two weeks ago, chooses not to mention his inexperience and accepts that he’s a dad now

okay wow I didn’t expect to ramble that much but yeah that’s basically the au

Q- hate to say it but I don’t really ship stephCass. I used to, but I hc Cass as older by a bit too much for me to comfortable shipping them in my own au yknow? I wouldn’t say I’ve abandoned them completely though, but the only other ships I really could have put here were ones where I saw art of them, thought it looked sort of cute and then found out they were pro ship, so uh

anyways I think they are cute and would absolutely celebrate if they were made canon but it’s not really for me is all

R- hmmmm. Well I’ll start off with one that I think very few people ship. Steph and Bailey, who has one appearance in the Robin/Spoiler Annual. And I know I’m not the only one bc I’m pretty sure it was @aliteralchicken’s blog where I saw them for the first time, if not whoops

I also have a lot of Janet Drake ships bc I love her and given that most people do not love her I think it’s safe to say that Janet x Selina, Janet x Talia and Janet x Dana aren’t exactly popular ships

I’m trying to think of an m/m ship bc sapphic ships are hard to come by anyways, I’m thinking Bart x Preston but that’s mostly bc I haven’t really been looking for content of them so that would make them seem like a rare pair

oh also Darla Aquista/Laura Fell and Ariana Dzerchenko. Idk I think they’d be cute, and Ariana could really only upgrade from Tim let’s be honest

#ask game #this was fun :)#I spent like fifteen minutes on this it was very enriching most of the time was spent just typing up the au in a coherent way

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multisfabulis · 2 years

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Through Loss Comes A Second Chance

Word Count: 4433

TW: Mention of suicide

It has been a hot minute since I last wrote anything, especially for the Kagepro fandom. The last fic I wrote was "Love's Descent into Madness", where its last chapter was posted almost two years ago in December. At least I can say I posted this on the tail-end of August!

So I've had this idea floating around in my brain for a few years now. I can't remember exactly what brought this on but I do know I hadn't seen much of anything for Momo and Ene and I wanted to rectify that. I just chose to kill Shintaro off since I feel like that would've been the most likely scenario for how these two would've come together and become friends. I'm becoming yet another pioneer for a dynamic I think the fandom has slept on!

One last thing I want to mention is that this was actually beta'd! I normally don't let others touch my work because I'm kinda a control freak and the very idea of having someone come in and make edits of my work is extremely terrifying but my friend, who is one of the very few people I WOULD trust with this, offered to beat read this and I took them up on it. They ended up doing such a good job, I decided to post it! They deserve credit for this so thank you, rosemaryblues!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt | Support me on Ko-fi!

Weeks had passed since that day. Just how many, Ene wasn’t sure. Honestly, if it weren’t for the clock in the lower right-hand corner of the desktop screen, she wouldn’t have even known a day had gone by. Time stopped mattering to her the moment her reason for living in this world left her behind.

What point was there in being alive now? The one person that gave her a shred of purpose in life was dead, along with everyone else she knew. What was she supposed to do? Was she to waste away in the confines of his computer until its power supply shut down permanently? Or go back to cyberspace and let the guilt consume her there? She didn’t care either way.

The room felt like it had been frozen in time since his death. His bed was still unmade from when he’d woken up that morning, the piles of trash forever on the floor he never got around to picking up; even his desk had stayed littered with his beloved soda bottles. Ene hadn’t found the strength to put his files back to how they were originally. She was afraid of touching anything in fear she’d accidentally delete it and destroy what little remained of him. They may all have just been code but they were as real to her as the world on the other side of the screen was.

She never imagined a day like this would come. A day in which she’d lose everything she’d worked so hard to regain. She felt so lost without him here. Her whole world practically revolved around him, from talking with him throughout all hours of the day to playing pranks on him in the hopes it’d get his full attention. He was her only source of companionship and now he was gone. Maybe she was just doomed to live alone for the rest of her life.

There was a noise at the door. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in quite a while. Taken aback, she hid automatically behind one of the folders on the desktop screen. There was only one person she knew who would come in here. Her hunch was proven to be correct when a familiar teenage girl walked in.

It was Momo, his little sister. She looked positively awful, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, her clothes as if she had slept in them, her eyes with heavy shadows under them. It was heartbreaking seeing her like this, not at all like the perfect idol Ene usually saw plastered across the various corners of the web. Momo crossed the threshold into his room and closed the door behind her, her gaze fixated to the ground.

The two of them were acquaintances at best. Ene had first met Momo weeks into her stay here and they’d occasionally talk here and there. It was shocking to see just how alike the siblings’ were to each other. Yet, unlike her brother, she had been doing far better for herself. Balancing the work she did as an idol while also attending school to the best of her ability was more than any 16 year old girl could reasonably handle but she did it all with a bright, cheerful smile.

But that was before. Her talent agency had put her on a leave of absence once word had reached them, giving her time to mourn and recover from her loss. Ene remembered reading the article about it when it came out and a minuscule seed of relief had bloomed within her. She may have been grieving over him as well but he was Momo's family. She only knew him for a year while Momo grew up with him. There was no telling how badly this was affecting her.

The siblings’ relationship was…complicated, to say the least. Momo could hardly stand to be in the same room as him and he generally kept to himself just about all the time. However, there was no doubting his love for her. He wasn’t very loud or showy with it but Ene knew him well enough to see his own way of expressing it. She wondered if Momo had any idea of it beneath her disdain for him.

Ene watched as Momo slowly made her way towards the bed. Her fingers brushed over the sheets before she decided to sit down on the edge. Her head had been bowed the entire time, seeming to have not noticed Ene’s presence. She had to strain her ears to hear what Momo muttered under her breath:

“What am I doing here?”

She was taking this hard. Losing a relative was never easy but this was her second time now losing someone close to her. Ene didn’t know much about their family history but she knew the siblings’ father died several years ago while visiting the beach with Momo. Their mother had also ended up in the hospital after nearly overworking herself to death to care for her two children. Such things is why Momo decided to try and bring in an income herself. Oh god, had she been trying to handle this all by herself?

Momo rose from the bed. She walked towards the nearest bookcase where his books and manga sat. Her hand skimmed over the spines of each one on the shelf closest to her before she plucked a thin, paperback novel out from it. She flipped through the pages, sighed, and put it back in its place, repeating this process with several other books.

Ene slowly approached the front of the screen, her activity bringing the computer out of its weeks-long sleep. It lit up the room where it was facing and it caught Momo’s attention. She turned to greet her. “Oh, Ene-chan. I forgot you were here.”

Her voice sounded weak, fragile to the point where she seemed to be only one second away from falling apart. That listless demeanor of hers didn’t suit her at all. It was too familiar to her brother’s and it made Ene worry.

What was she to say here? She knew Momo wasn’t okay and she had just as much right to be in his room as she did, maybe even more so. Dumbfounded, she decided to ask, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Could you--” her voice cracked, prompting her to clear her throat-- “could you…tell me what he was like?”

“Huh?" Ene was a little taken aback.

“What was my brother like? I figured, since you spent more time with him than anyone else did, I might’ve…” she paused, her head turned back to face the bookcase, “gotten to learn about him.”

So that was it. The siblings’ relationship was complicated on both sides, that much she understood, but was it really that strained? Sure, they argued and fought with each other like most siblings did but was that all they did? If so, then it was no wonder why Momo was asking this of her. In her eyes, a virtual stranger like Ene had seen more of her brother in a year than his own sister had throughout their whole lives together. It was enough for Ene to pity her.

If telling her about him was what she wished, then Ene would oblige. “Master was…a stubborn man. It was always his way or the highway on most things and it’d take forever for him to see things from my perspective. He also never listened to me, it was in one ear and out the other. Whenever I’d ask him to clean up around here or eat something that wasn’t junk food, he’d either brush it off or get mad at me! Me, someone who was just looking out for him when he couldn’t do it himself!”

That earned a snort from Momo. “That sounds about right. If even you couldn’t get through to him, no one could.”

“I felt more like his mother than his servant at times.” She let out a heavy sigh, despite the smile growing across her face. “I know waking him up wasn’t what I signed up for but him sleeping in till noon was unacceptable! That’s why I’d turn the volume up and scare the crap out of him on some mornings!”

“That’s what that noise was?!” There was more emotion to her voice now. “I just thought he forgot he wasn’t the only one living here…”

“Yeah, it was so funny watching him jump out of the bed and beg me to turn it off,” she answered through fits of giggles. “And he was never grateful for it! Trying to get a thank you from him was like pulling teeth!”

Momo burst into laughter after that. It felt good to see her smile again, especially since she looked like a zombie when she crossed through the door. Ene was happy she was able to bring some comfort to her. Sharing the memories she had of him lessened the weight on her shoulders and kept the pain of missing him at bay. It was a nice respite from the heavy toll the past few weeks took on her.

Then Momo fell quiet. Maybe she thought it was inappropriate to be even a little joyful so soon after his death, or her grief became too much for her to hold back any longer. Whatever the case may be, her shoulders drooped as she went to pick out another book. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke, breaking the lull in their conversation.

“Ene-chan…do you know why my brother became a shut-in two years ago?”

The question blindsided her. Of course she knew why he spent every waking hour in this tiny room. His guilt in how he treated Ayano before her suicide was the main contributing factor, though Ene supposed her and Haruka’s deaths didn’t help matters either. It was through her showing up when she did that delayed what might’ve been his inevitable end. There were too many things she couldn’t tell Momo about, if only because there was no easy way of explaining it.

Their story was too interconnected. It was too full of pain, sorrow, and regret and Ene had no desire to talk about it. She could lie to her but Momo deserved to know the truth. Or something resembling it at least. She settled on the omission of certain facts, ambiguities that would serve their purpose well enough.

“Master was very…troubled.” She clasped her hands. “A lot went on in his head, things I can’t say I was ever privy to. There were times he’d say or do something that set alarm bells off in me but I’d just brush it aside and try to help him in the best way I knew how.” Yet it wasn’t enough. “I can’t speak as to why he shut himself up in here but I’m sure he must’ve had a good reason to not tell you why.”

Momo’s body stiffened as she whispered, “I see.”

Ene could tell she was gutted by her answer. The past two years had to be both hard and frustrating for her as his sister. There was no doubt she loved her brother but his general apathy and their similar personalities had made communication between each other difficult. Momo must’ve been so desperate to help him out in any way she could, she just didn’t know how. Why did he have to leave her alone to clean up his mess? Ene thought bitterly.

“It’s just like him,” Momo muttered derisively. It was a tone Ene heard him use against her all the time but never from Momo. It was at that point she turned around to face her, holding a thick, heavy-looking book in her hands. She began walking towards her, saying, “It’s just like my brother to not tell me anything. After all, it’s not like he ever cared about me.” Momo’s eyes had tears threatening to spill over at any moment. “He probably thought I would just make things worse.”

“That’s not it, he---”

“So then why?!” She suddenly threw the book across the other side of the room. It hit the wall and landed on the floor. “Why did he have to go and do this?! Did-did he ever stop and think about what would happen if he did this?! What about me, what about mom?! It was bad enough losing dad and now he’s gone too? Didn’t he know that…” Her voice cracked as tears rolled down her cheeks. “-that I would’ve helped him? He may have been weird and creepy and gross but…he was still my brother, so I…” Sobs wracked Momo’s body as she hugged herself tight.

“I can’t claim to know what went through Master’s head when he…” Ene paused. A small flash of sorrow pierced her heart. She swallowed it with a heavy breath. “But what I can tell you is that he may not have wanted to burden you with his problems.”

Sniffling, Momo wiped away her tears as she asked, “B-burden me?”

“You already had school and idol work to deal with y'know? So he probably didn’t want you stressing yourself out even more by worrying about him.” Another sadder possibility crossed her mind. “Maybe…maybe he thought you’d be better off without him.”

“I…” She sniffled again, taking a step forward. “I don’t know what to believe. He just never showed any sign of caring about me and---”

“He did, I can attest to that.” Ene flitted over to a folder in the upper left-hand corner and peeked into it. “Here, I’ll show you.”

She threw several files out across the screen, some of which were images and videos he downloaded off the Internet while others were of MP3s he had bought. Whether it was promotional material, clips of her concerts, or songs she released on streaming platforms, he archived everything he could of Momo. This was the one folder Ene had never touched because she knew how important it was to him. She was an only child in her past life, so she was almost envious of the other girl for having an older brother who was so supportive of her.

Approaching the desk, Momo’s eyes flickered over all the windows popping up and asked, “Are these…of me?”

“He may not have expressed it but Master loved you very much,” Ene replied, tucking herself into the corner so as to not block anything. “He listened to and shared your music whenever a new song would come out, read every article you were in, and watched clips of your concerts from fans who’d record your performances and post them up on social media.”

“Why…didn’t he ever mention this?” She pulled the chair away from his desk and sat down in it. “Why did he keep this secret?”

“I don’t know. But he never stopped supporting you, even when things got…too difficult for him.” She floated as close to the screen as possible, keeping her face hidden from view. “Don’t ever doubt how much he cared about you. Please, for his sake.”

Rolling up to the desk, Momo took hold of the mouse. She clicked on one of the many windows displayed; a picture of her striking a pose she had done on the cover of a magazine. She closed it and clicked on another; a clip of a recent concert she had done. The corners of her mouth curved up slightly as she watched herself trip and face-plant in front of hundreds of people live on stage. Ene observed this all in rapt silence.

Fresh tears slid down her face as a pained smile stretched across her face, saying, “God, it’s just like him to keep track of me like a weirdo…”

This was only a glimpse into what their dynamic was like during the rare times they interacted with each other and she was sure Momo missed those days. She must’ve wanted that sense of normalcy back so she wouldn’t face the reality of his death. Ene knew what that was like all too well.

“Is it weird to miss him if I didn’t know him that well?” Momo asked as she wiped away her tears with her arm. “Sometimes I wonder…if I just reached out to him, if I said something to him, would he still be here?”

“You couldn’t have known.” Ene wished she could pass through the screen at that moment. “It’s no use thinking about what you could’ve done differently.”

“But if I had just tried harder, if I had just pushed him to tell me…” She hung her head as she stifled a sob. “What kind of sister am I?! He supported me all this time and yet I couldn’t do the same for him! It’s my fault, it’s---”

“Momo!” She hadn’t meant to shout but it was the first thing that leapt into her head. The other girl snapped to attention. “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine because I’m the one he talked the most with, he spent time with. If I hadn’t pulled that stupid prank, if I had just come back sooner, he’d…”

It was then she noticed it. It started off with one or two droplets before the dam burst and she was suddenly crying. She dropped to her knees, covering her face with her hands as her chest constricted in agonizing pain. He wasn’t coming back, she knew that. But did she really? No longer would he be upset at her for playing her practical jokes on him, pleading with her to not post his embarrassing pictures online. He was gone and it was all her fault.

She couldn’t save anyone. Not Haruka, not Shintaro, not even her own damn self when it mattered the most. They were all dead and nothing was ever going to change that fact. What was she to do now? The only person left that seemed to care for her was gone because she wasn’t able to get through to him. The sin of his death weighed down on her like a rock as she sank further and further into---

“Ene-chan!” Momo’s voice broke her out of her downward spiral. Ene looked up to see her face super close to the screen. “It wasn’t your fault! It’s like you said, we couldn’t have known so please…” She lowered her head, tears falling onto the desk. “Please don’t blame yourself for what happened. I…I forgive you!”

Momo, someone who had all the right in the world to blame her for her brother’s suicide, forgave her? She wasn’t one to say things without meaning them so she had to be for real…right?

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve such a thing but…thank you.” Then she smiled as the realization hit her. “I bet Master would’ve loved having two girls cry over him like the creep he was.”

“Oh god…” There was some semblance of a laugh in her voice at the joke. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

They spent the next few minutes in near silence. Ene gave Momo some privacy to recompose herself but couldn’t help glancing her way every so often. She had a feeling she’d be okay after this. Even if it took time still, there would come a day where the guilt of living would subside and she’d be happy again. Ene believed that was what Shintaro would’ve wanted for her to.

“Hey, Ene-chan?” Momo called out. “What are you planning to do now that my brother’s gone?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? She didn’t dare tell Momo about what she thought of doing before she had entered the room. It wouldn’t be right worrying her over such depressing things. She did, however, know she did NOT want to go back to cyberspace again. She already spent one year in that goddamn lonely place.

“I don’t know,” Ene replied, looking down at her hands to avoid Momo’s gaze. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Maybe…” A pause, then an exhale. “Maybe this is the chance for you to live your own life from now on.” This made Ene lift her head. “I mean, you spent a lot of time with my brother, right? So I was thinking this might be a good opportunity for you to do that since you don’t have anyone to look out for anymore.”

She had a point. It wasn’t like her days with Shintaro weren’t some of the most fun and happiest she had since becoming Ene. Many of the skills she learned were for the purposes of fucking with him so she didn’t know how useful they’d be outside that periphery. Not to mention the lack of a physical body limited her options as well.

“I was also thinking…” Momo’s voice broke through her reverie. “Well, I know it’s selfish of me to ask this but…would you be okay with staying here for a little while longer? With me, maybe?” Ene was taken aback by her proposition. Then the other girl grew flustered, clarifying, “Only if you want to, though! I didn’t wanna make it seem like I was kicking you out or anything, that’s why I was asking and it’s fine if you don’t, I just---”

“Yes! I’ll--” she cut in before Momo lost her mind-- “I’ll stay.”

A moment passed for her answer to sink in and she said with a smile, “Thank you, Ene-chan. I think if we stick together, we can help each other out so…let’s become good friends, okay?”

For the first time since that day, she felt hopeful for the future.

After traversing through what seemed like rows upon rows of graves, they finally arrived at their destination. It had taken them a while to figure out where it could have been, not helped by Momo’s terrible sense of direction. It was when they were deep inside the cemetery Ene was able to read the familiar characters inscribed on the stone monument to realize they had found it. So there, standing just before them, laid the final resting place of Shintaro Kisaragi.

Months had passed since his death and the two girls were still adjusting to a life without him in it. However, the burden that had been weighing heavily on them since then had lessened somewhat. The pain was easier to manage now. Ene was taking steps to venture outside of his PC with every new day while Momo had gone back to work better than ever before. Most of all, their relationship had blossomed beautifully to the point where they considered each other to be best friends.

Today was special. They both felt emotionally secure enough to come here, which was saying a lot after those initial few weeks. They wanted to let him know, wherever he was, how they were doing and what their plans for the future were. The most important thing they wished to convey, though, was that he needn’t worry over them. They had each other to lean on now so they were going to be okay. They were going to live out their lives and meet him again when it was their time to go, he just had to be patient until then.

Momo placed her phone, which held Ene, down beside the grave. Then she set the two incense sticks in the holder, lit them up, and clapped her hands together. Ene did the same, closing her eyes as they paid their respects. Luckily, they brought enough supplies with them for the next two graves they were planning to visit after they finished their business at Shintaro’s. It was only fair for Momo to meet Haruka and Ayano as well.

She told her about them a month or so ago. There were some details she left out, mainly regarding her actual connection to Shintaro and his ties with their former friend group, but everything else was the complete and utter truth. There may come a day where she’d reveal everything, but this was fine for now.

Once they were done, Momo proceeded to tell him about everything she had been up to lately. The staff assigned to her had been understanding of the way her loss affected her and her fans sent lots of love to her during her hiatus. It’s because of their kindness that it made her want to try even harder to repay all of them for all the support they’d given her throughout her absence. She was still having a hard time in school but she was proud to admit her test scores had improved somewhat, going from single digits to doubles. Of course there was also mention of her and Ene having grown closer, which she imagined Shintaro was despairing over.

“I also wanted to say that--” Momo’s expression turned serious-- “even though we never really talked, we just argued all the time…I never hated you. I know I said I did a lot but I never meant it.” She took a deep breath in, then out as she calmed herself. “At the end of the day, you’re still my brother and…I love you.”

Then it was Ene’s turn. She followed the same routine as Momo’s, albeit with some careful wording so as to not throw suspicion onto herself. She still messed with his files here and there and she kept the cheek he got aggravated with on a daily basis. Nothing between them had to change that much after his death. However, there was one thing she wanted to say, without any jokes or backhanded remarks.

“In all seriousness, I know I teased you a lot back then but I hope you know that that was my way of showing how I cared about you.” Her eyes wandered down to the bottom of the grave. “The year I spent with you was some of the most fun I ever had. It had its ups and downs but I don’t regret meeting you, not one bit.” Then she looked up with a firm resolve and hoped that what she said next would reach him. “Thank you for being my best friend.”

With that, they bid farewell to him. It was never easy moving on but Ene already did it once, and she’d do it again. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Momo. What she did know was that they would face it together, with their heads held high and his memory in their hearts.

#airi's writing #Ene #Kisaragi Momo #Fanfiction #Kagerou Project #suicide mention

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rogersevans · 3 years

Text

Quarantine Wedding

Pairings: Chris Evans x Y/n Downey - Chris Evans x Y/n Evans

Warnings: just fluff, wedding (if they make you emotional), implied smut towards the end

Summary: Y/n never planned her dream wedding, but in their back garden, surrounded by their families, during a global pandemic seems pretty perfect to her. apart of the evans’ series.

Sunday mornings were Y/n’s and Chris’s favourite day of the week, the only time they got to stay in bed, tangled in the sheets and each other, going undisturbed from the outside world. Chris currently had Y/n lying between his legs, her back against his bare chest as he rested against the head of the bed.

Y/n was absentmindedly playing with the engagement ring on her finger, something she had started to do since he put it on, twiddling it with her thumb.

Dodger was at their feet, on his back with his legs spread, snoring away.

“We should get married.” Y/n mumbled like she was thinking something through in her mind, thumb still playing with the ring.

“We are...” Chris reminded her, placing a small kiss to her temple. “That’s what this is for.” Taking her small hand in his, holding it up to show off the ring as it glistened in the Sunday morning sun.

“No,” she protested with a giggle, getting up onto her knees and wrapping the sheet around her naked body, turning to face her fiancé. “I mean sooner, like tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Or Thursday if you’re too busy.” Rolling her eyes playfully she scooted closer to him, now in his lap, the sheet now being held up by their bodies, closing the gap. Her hands finding his hair, raking her fingers through it and massaging his scalp. “I want to be Mrs Evans, I want to get married in our back garden, with our families... No one else.” Chris hummed in agreement, letting his hands fall to her hips.

“You don’t want a big wedding?” Licking his lips, his eyes now open and focused on every detail of her, the small freckle that sat just above the curve of her right breast, the thin chain that sat around her neck with a small diamond C resting in the centre he’d bought her on their second anniversary, the butt dimpled in her chin, something she hated but another thing he adored.

Truthfully, she didn’t, she never envisioned herself surrounded by 300 people as she said ‘I do’, she just wanted a small, intimate wedding, less than 30 people.

The pair had been engaged for five months and the pandemic had haltered all of their plans to celebrate, they had various zoom celebrations with their families and friends and when they were allowed to travel back home their hallway was filled with presents and balloons.

They had managed to keep the news out of the press, wanting to bask in the newness of their engagement privately, it had been blissful but Y/n was becoming impatient.

Silently shaking her head, she dipped her head her lips just a whisper away from Chris’s, “I just want you, as my husband.” She whispered making Chris’s entire body shiver, and in one swift movement Y/n is on her back with Chris lying on his side next to her, propped up on his elbow and tracing shapes on her are stomach.

She doesn’t stop herself from reaching up and cupping his cheek, booping his nose with her thumb, making them both giggle and then running her fingers over his beard, one her favourite features of her fiancé the way it feels against her skin makes her feel alive.

“Tomorrow.” Was all he replied with, letting his lips fall down to her nose.

After another hour of being tangled up in one another, the room filled with her soft moans and Chris made love to her, turned on at the thought of her becoming his wife tomorrow. They started organising everything, never leaving the bed unless it was for Dodger, food or toilet breaks.

They had delivered the news to their families and the cheers or screams (Carly and Shanna) we’re piercing, even though the speaker of their phones.

Chris booked flights for his family to be able to attend, they were getting in at around 10pm that night. Y/n demanded that everyone be tested before they stepped foot in their home, so she arranged for someone to come out and test everyone. Y/n’s family were due to arrive tomorrow morning, the nerves bubbled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of her mom and dad being in the same room again, something she hadn’t experienced in years.

“Baby, it’ll be fine.” Giving a chaste kiss to her knuckles, “we’re getting married tomorrow.” He mumbled against them, his voice raspy and tired after a long day of planning, all doubt or anxiety about her parents leaving her body just from his touch, his words settled her completely.

“I can’t wait to be your wife.” Standing to her tiptoes she nudged her nose with his, their gaze still looked before her eyes fluttered shut, breathing him in and relishing in the moment before his lips found hers.

“What are you going to do about a dress?” Scott asked in a hushed tone, not wanting Chris to hear their conversation, closing the door to their bedroom behind him.

The house was extremely busy downstairs with everyone completing last minute preparations so Scott and Y/n had snuck away for a quiet moment to get ready, knowing Y/n didn’t function when stressed. He could tell she wanted nothing more than to have Chris at her side, one didn’t move without the other.

But Scott demanded, as the self appointed best man/man of honour, that they be apart for the night before and the day of, still up-keeping some form of tradition.

Unknowingly to Scott, Chris had snuck back into their bedroom last night when everyone was asleep, not wanting to be away from one another with the excitement of the next day bubbling.

Like children on Christmas Eve.

The busyness of the day had helped keep them both distracted, not giving them much time to sneak off for a moment of privacy.

“I bought something a few months ago, thinking ahead.” Y/n rummaged through her and Chris’s shared walk-in closet, plucking a black garment bag which was hidden at the very back.

Unzipping the bag, Y/n revealed the white, embroidered, floor length cami wedding dress. Scott couldn’t contain his gasp as he softly took the dress in his hands, admiring it silently.

“Where did you find this?” His eyes not leaving the dress, his fingers running over the patterns.

“ASOS,” she started. “I saw it on there and had to have it, I’m going to wear it with these...” Trailing off as she bent down to pick up her pair of all white, high-topped converses, now beaming from ear to ear.

“You’re joking right?”

“Heels aren’t me,” shrugging her shoulders she took the dress from Scott and disappeared into the en-suite to get ready.

“What about rings?” Scott asked on the other side of the door, he was sitting on the edge of the bed go through the checklist he had created in his mind.

“I think Chris has that sorted.” Was all she replied too focused on not damaging the dress as she slipped it on carefully, not hearing when Scott said something about checking on the decorations and leaving.

After ten minutes Y/n stepped out of the bathroom to show Scott, her hair now falling freely over her shoulders and the slightest bit of make-up, the dress hugged her figure perfectly as the flowed around her.

“Wow.” Chris’s voice sounded, making her jump back behind the bathroom door, shutting it, hoping he didn’t see too much. “Baby, what’re you doing?” Walking over to the bathroom door, trying to push it open.

“I thought you were Scott. You’re not supposed to see me!” Y/n cried from behind the door.

“I don’t care, we’re getting married during a pandemic, in our back garden with less than twenty people... So, I think the traditions are out the window.” His hand still on the door knob, letting a breathy chuckle out. “C’mon gorgeous, I wanna see you.” He attempted to persuade her.

Slowly the door started to open to reveal Y/n stood there, holding either side of her dress as she twirled for Chris, giggling as she did.

Well fuck, the sight made Chris’s heart swell, his palms became sweaty as his eyes trailed over her, drinking in her appearance, his smile never leaving his lips.

Y/n took the opportunity to take in her fiancé's appearance, he was currently in black dress pants, a white shirt tucked into his pants with the top few buttons undone, and a tie hanging around his neck, untied. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight, butterflies erupting in her stomach.

“Was gonna ask you to do my tie...” He choked out, his eyes now meeting hers.

Without word she took a step forward and began fastening the last few buttons before making work of his tie, his hands found her hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs as he watched her intently.

“You look...” He started, but was cut off by Y/n.

“Handsome, you look insanely handsome. I’m lucky you’re about to become my husband.” Her eyes still fixated on the tie, her tongue dragging across her bottom lip as she concentrated. Once satisfied her fingers smoothed out his collar and tie. “Now go, before Scott sees you in here. Anyone would think he’s the one getting married.” Both chuckling softly.

With her command Chris didn’t move away, just one step closer to her, closing the gap between them, his hands now cupping her cheeks, both looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds before he dipped his head down to kiss her.

This kiss wasn’t like all the others he had sneaked in the past twenty four hours, it was different.

Y/n’s mind casting back to the night Chris told her he loved her for the first time, the kiss matching that. It was filled with adoration, passion and love, making her stomach do flips and her heart hammer against her chest.

“Go,” Y/n mumbled against his lips after a few seconds, pushing his abdomen. “I’ll see you down there handsome.” Giving her one last kiss before walking away, leaving her now by herself as she jumped up and down in their bathroom, the tiniest squeal leaving her lips.

The next half an hour rushed by so quickly, now the pair were stood at the bottom of their garden in front of their families, their garden littered with fairy lights hung above them, their families stood watching proudly.

It was simple and perfect, no fuss.

Scott was ordaining the ceremony something Chris and Y/n weren’t aware he could do until last night. Too scared to know the reason why he decided to become an ordained minister, “you never know when you might need it” was all he said.

“Y/n,” Chris started, his hands shaking a little. “I can’t imagine my life without you, since you came barging into it 22 years ago. From the very first day of filming back in 2011, I knew you were it for me, even if I didn’t know it.” That caused everyone to laugh, “I love how you’re always there by my side, how you always tie my tie... Even if I know how to do it myself.” Y/n gasped shocked at his admission, laughing along with everyone. “At first it was a tactic to be near you, but the look of concentration you have every time, drives me crazy.” He laughed as she shook her head, beaming from ear to ear. “You make me the happiest man alive every day, even when you’re beating my ass at guitar hero. I love how passionate and impatient you are... Today being an example of that.” Everyone laughed again, he reached for her cheek and wiped the tears away with his thumb. “I can’t believe I get to call you my wife... I love you.”

Y/n was speechless, wiping away the tears that continued to fall, it was like he’d winded her with his words, her body tingled with excitement and love as the feeling of becoming Mrs Evans drew closer.

“Chris,” she started. “You are one of the most amazing, crazy talented, men I’ve ever known, I’m in constant awe of what you’re capable of... Seriously, it's annoying... I will make it my life mission to find something you’re not good at.” Chris’s loud laughter now echoed over your families laughs, his hand falling to his chest. “Your laugh, is my favourite sound of yours and if I could play it on repeat I would, but I’ll just settle for making you laugh with my terribly bad dad jokes-”

“Oh no!” Chris groaned at her statement, making everyone laugh again.

“Our love consumes me, I knew from the moment Lizzie told me you liked me that I had to have you, no matter what. Everyone constantly tells me how intense our love is, but it wasn’t until someone described it perfectly to me that I understood,” Y/n took the opportunity to side eye Scott, recalling the night they had a very drunken conversation about her relationship with Chris, making Scott laugh. “We’re so in sync with one another, you move, I move, we could be in a room filled with people, on opposite ends and we would still find each other without looking. Being with you,” she had to stop to compose herself, not wanting to cry during her vows. “Is like living a dream come true, especially during the simple times, no plans, no noise, just us doing nothing.”

Chris didn’t hide his tears as they freely fell, the sniffles from everyone, including Robert could be heard now.

After a few more words from Scott, once he calmed down, the cheers erupted as their lips connected, their first kiss as husband and wife. Chris pulling her flush against him, deepening the kiss. “I got you, Mrs Evans.” He whispered against her lips, making her giggle.

The rest of the night was spent with their families, basking in the events of the day as they ended the night with the fire pit lit, gathered around it. Y/n was still in her dress and converse clad feet, her hair now tied up as she sat on the floor in between her husband's legs.

She was currently admiring her wedding band, it was rose gold, slim and had diamonds wrapped around it, fitting perfectly against her engagement ring. reaching for the hand that rested on her shoulder, now playing with his wedding band, his band was thick, black and had a thin, rose gold strip around the centre.

Chris had purchased them the day he bought the engagement ring and had hidden them in his sock drawer in his bedside, his hiding spots were getting better.

“I’m so happy for you guys.” Robert softly whispered, puling his daughter into his arms holding her tightly against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re married!”

“I know... I have to live with a boy!” She quipped back and Robert’s body started to vibrate with laughter, her cheek resting on his should as they continued to hug, not wanting to let go.

“My baby...” Now cupping her cheeks, giving his daughter one last look of pride before letting go. “You’ve always been my favourite child.” He whispered, Y/n knew he was joking but she laughed in agreement anyway. Out of her other three siblings they both shared a close relationship, Y/n was his saving grace when he was younger, having her at a young age bonded them.

“Chris, I can’t believe you’re my son now... How weird.” Chris smiles broadly at the term son, instead of son-in-law, he knew Robert classed him as part of the family and not because he had to. "Welcome to the family, legally.. Let’s face it you’ve always been apart of this family.” Sharing a quick embrace before slipping past the newlyweds to speak to Lisa.

“Do you want to dance?” Chris bent down to whisper in his wife's ear, his hands finding her hips and back pressed against his chest, only to have her hum in response.

Guiding her to an open spot in the garden, taking his hand in hers and spinning her so she was now facing him. His large hands resting on her hips whilst her hands snaked around his waist, the music that played from the speakers in the house guiding them. “You’re my wife,” stating softly, his lips finding her forehead.

“That’s right Evans,” the nickname now sounding futile with both being Evans’. “You’re stuck with me, no getting out this.” Her index finger was pointing between them before wrapping back around his neck.

“Never.”

It was nearing 2am when Chris and Y/n climbed the stairs to their bedroom, once the click of their door shutting was heard she reached behind trying to unzip her dress but struggled due to her tired state, contemplating just sleeping her dress.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her husband as he guided the zip down slowly, leaving slow, wet kisses on shoulder, using his callous fingers to brush the straps of her dress off her shoulders, the dress pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her panties.

“My wife, you’re stunning.” He said lowly, the only light in the room was the light of the moon streaming through the windows. Y/n turned to face him, starting to unbutton his shirt which was now untucked, tie long gone and the top two buttons already undone, his collar bones and tattoos poking out through his shirt.

Pushing the shirt off of him, she traced his tattoos with her fingers, a hiss of pleasure escaping from his throat, making him tighten the grip on her hips she didn’t know he had.

The C necklace glistening in the moonlight.

That’s how they stood for a few minutes, their eyes never breaking from one another, her arms wrapped around his neck, his hands on her hips.

Y/n guided her new husband to their bed, the back of his legs hitting the edge and he sat down closely followed by her straddling him. “Mr Evans,” her voice laced with arousal. “I do believe, you’re wearing one too many items of clothing.” She tsked, her finger trailing down his abdomen, his muscles twitching when she did, effortlessly flicking the button of his pants open.

“That can be fixed... Mrs Evans.” He purred in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

#chris evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x downey!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #cevans #cevansedit #evansedit #the evans'

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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Good Enough

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you can’t get past a loss, Dean helps you through it.

Requested by Anonymous: “Hi! I was just wanting to request and dean winchester x reader where the reader is struggling to deal with a hunt that didn’t go right and the person they were trying to save didn’t make it and dean helps the reader?”

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, guilt, injury, blood, comfort, fluff

If there’s anyone that knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Dean Winchester. He knows you like the back of his hand and it’s been like that for as long as he can remember. That being said, it takes a lot to get anything past him. It takes a whole lot to fool the green eyed hunter, no matter how good you are at telling him you’re fine. He knows the signs, he knows what to look for.

He knows.

This time was no different than before. He knew it the moment it happened, saw the look on your face, that frown you got that you don’t even realize you have. He knew it because it wasn’t like most other times when you lose someone on a hunt. Each time it happens it’s never easy, it’s never ideal when you lose people to some nasty monster that does nothing but prey upon people. They were monsters, that’s what they do.

It was never easy but he knows the difference between you brushing it off and accepting it, stuffing it down and moving on with the next hunt, and you brushing it off when it really digs down and bothers you. He knows that difference and he knows that lie.

You’re a strong hunter, the strongest one he knows and you certainly handle things in the department of working through your emotions a whole lot better than he can. So much better but even then you still have your moments, still have times where a hunt will bother you far too much for you to deal with that all on your own. He knows the signs, he knows exactly what to look out for.

The moment you lost her you shut down. Your gaze lingered and you did that thing you always do—you swallow real hard and you tense your jaw and he knows you’re trying to reign it in because if you don’t you’ll cry right then and there no matter how hard you deny it. You get real quiet, really dismissive and that’s the most telling thing about you. Your silence.

You’re quiet as you sit in the Impala, gaze fixed out of the window as you bite consistently on the inside of your cheek. You say nothing as you sit there and think of everything you did wrong as a hunter that night, everything you should’ve and could’ve done better, the things that wouldn’t have happened had you just done your job. They ran through your mind in a loop of torment and self doubt, every inadequacy you felt you had rising to the surface and boiling over.

The more you thought about just all the ways you possibly could have messed up the time, what the end result was, it made it all the more difficult to keep that tremble from your bottom lip. It made your stomach twist in knots and it made your head ache from suppressing those tears that just wouldn’t go away. It was hard, it was harder than ever to sit there and reign it in.

Dean only found a motel to stay at all of half an hour ago. That demon drug the two of you miles away and a few towns over. Sam wasn’t along, hung back at Jody’s with a broken arm and a busted ankle. There was only one room left at that motel and it just barely worked out that way for the two of you because there wouldn’t have been a bed for Sam. It took about two minutes for Dean to make that decision to skip out on the motel, to drive the extra miles just to get back to Jody’s that night. There’d be left overs of a home cooked meal for you to have, there’d be a much nicer bed for the two of you to share.

It’d be better on you than some tacky, old motel room for a change.

He glanced over at you, that’s what he did the entire drive was steal glances at you. Each and every time he was met with that same look, that same sorrowful look that screamed regret and guilt and he hated that the feeling even crossed your mind. He knew that’s what it was and he didn’t need to ask, it was clear as day what it was.

There wasn’t that much longer of a drive left, he knows that, but he finally felt it was a good time to slip his hand in yours. He knew it was because even though you were stubborn as hell when you were like this, he felt the way you scooted a little closer to him, he felt the way you toyed with the ring on his finger. Your gaze was still focused out the window.

He noticed the little things and it made all the difference in the world.

When you did finally get there, you were ever so quick to snag your duffel bag and go, to slip through the door with hopes of sneaking past any company. You weren’t in any shape to be around anyone, you looked worse for wear in far more ways than one. That quiver in your lip worsened and the clench in your jaw tightened.

Dean knew you’d disappear and he let you, he let you go off and have your space for a little while but he stayed close behind because he knew. He knows that no matter how hard you might try and look tough, no matter how hard you try and prove that you want to be by yourself, it isn’t true. You’ll never admit it but you don’t need to, he knows you don’t really want to be alone, and if there’s one person you really truly need, it’s Dean.

But he lets you have your space for a little while.

So, he checked on Sam, checked on Jody a while. He made conversation with them on how the hunt, didn’t give specifics but they knew it didn’t go so well. They knew because you were there to give them that hug you always do. He made conversation but you were on the very forefront of his mind, and he lingered, he did that until he couldn’t anymore.

You’d splashed water over your face a million times over, more and more until you felt even just a fraction better. You had your own bumps and bruises from the hunt but that was the least of your concerns. A few scrapes, a few bruises here and there was nothing compared to what happened that day.

You didn’t worry about yourself, didn’t want to, it wasn’t a big deal and it felt selfish to worry about what little damage you walked away from that hunt with. It could’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t, it should’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t. That very idea played through your mind over and over without pause. You had to expect this kind of thing on a hunt, that’s what happens as a hunter, but it hurts every single time.

Usually you can brush these things off. Usually you can push it to the very corners of your mind and move onto the next hunt with just as much optimism as before, with just as much courage as before. You could take things as they come and you could accept the downfalls of being a hunter for what it was because at the end of the day these things were monsters.

When you thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It made it feel like you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, they were supernatural monsters that most people don’t even believe in till they see it for themselves. You knew it was bound to happen, you knew the job wasn’t ever going to be perfect. You knew it but you couldn’t believe it this time.

You rifled through your bag where you’d tossed it on the bed, looking for something you didn’t quite remember. Something, anything to busy your mind and the building pressure behind your eyes. You were frazzled, bursting at the seams and you knew it.

The knock at the door made you jump a little, but you didn’t look up, you knew who it was. You tried to ignore the burning ache running along the heel of your hand, the jagged scratch along your skin more and more painful as it sits under the scrap of bandana tied over it. You tried to hide it so Dean wouldn’t fuss over you, so he didn’t worry because he’d been through enough that day.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently as he walked in the room with the kindest smile.

“Hey,” you say, all the more softer as you dig around some more, letting out a frustrated huff as you lose your train of thought.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your own mind, in your own looping guilt that ate away at you. Too caught up in trying your hardest not to give it up and cry in front of him because that’s the last thing you wanted to do. But it was becoming increasingly obvious as you all but dumped the contents of your duffel bag on the bed, only to realize it was Dean’s.

You let out a frustrated groan as you pick up his clothes you’d tousled around, putting them back in their rightful bag before going for your own. You weren’t yourself and that much was clear, each second that passed you were handling things worse and worse and he saw the way your frown tugged ever so softly at the corners of your mouth. He saw the way you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n.”

You look up at him, gaze meeting his for the first time since that hunt a couple hours back. Your eyes are quick to move, though, fixating on the cut above his eyebrow, the crimson slowly but steadily beginning to trickle down his temple once more. Then they bounce to the cut across the bridge of his freckled nose, swollen and pale purple around it. They went from his nose to the one on his cheek, to the blood staining in his hair. Then you circle back to his gaze, the mere sight of the concern pooling in his eyes having your own begin to gloss over.

All that, all of that was from saving you as you tried to save her back there. Those cuts and bruises he’s got on his face, any bit of pain he was in had guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach, twisting in knots because you felt you were solely to blame for it.

You swallowed thickly and he saw that too, that thing you always did, and you cleared your throat quickly. You snagged your first aid kit from your bag once you realized that’s what you were looking for.

“Let me patch you up,” you say, and he can hear every ounce of your emotions in your words. He could hear it in your tone and he could see it in that look you’ve got on your face.

His shoulders slump a little and his brows furrow, lips pursing softly as he looks at you with that realization. He can see it in the way your gaze lingers on those cuts in his face a little too long for it not to be so.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you think this is your fault,” Dean says, soft and hopeful that you don’t.

You swallow thickly, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him with that crease between your brows. That tremble in your lip is back, that stupid thing that gives away just how bad you’re really hurting.

“I know it is, Dean,” you say quietly, toying with the kit in your hand as you narrow your gaze up at him.

You watch as his lips purse a little more, as that furrow in his brows becomes all the more apparent.

“Y/n, it wasn’t—”

“Let me patch you up, Dean,” you said once more, a little louder than the last.

He looks at you, at that look you’ve got, one look and he caves. One looks and he’s sighing, following you to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’s blaming you for getting a little roughed up back there, he never would. He made that choice to step in and snag you before that demon could get you too while you tried to save that girl. He made that choice and if he came out of it a little bloody then so be it. He’ll take it over losing you any day.

He takes a seat on the toilet lid, patient as ever as he gazes up at you with all the softness in the world. It nearly makes you fall apart right then and there, but you don’t.

You take a breath and you dampen a cotton pad with an antiseptic, your good hand settling on his cheek. You feel the soft scratch of his stubble under your palm, you can feel the little bit of tension in his jaw but the looks he’s giving you isn’t indicative of any malice, isn’t indicative of any anger you felt you should have gotten.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek softly before you wipe away the blood that started to run down his temple. He closed his eyes briefly at the sting it evoked, you could feel a little more tension in his jaw but he didn’t say anything. You wanted to say you were sorry, you wanted to say it a million times.

He could see the way your hands trembled as you worked, and he could see it when you dropped some of the first aid supplies. You were crumbling more and more under the weight of this hunt and it was becoming increasingly more obvious the more time that ticks by. The more thought you put into the events that transpired that day.

He nudged you with his knee as you stood between his thighs, pulling your attention once more and you saw the smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“‘Member that one hunt at the circus, that spirit masking as that goofy lookin’ clown?” He asks.

You nod softly, and he sees the corner of your mouth quirks up as soft as ever, nearly unnoticeable.

“Sam was so focused on avoiding that damn thing, so on edge that he thought I was that clown. Hit me square across the head and ran like a bat outta hell.” He chuckled softly at the memory as you cleaned him up, your smile widening just a fraction. “Knocked me flat on my ass and had my head spinnin’ for a good while. But you know who was right there with me, kept that spirit away from me while I was down?”

You tilt your head, sighing at his words. “Dean.”

“You did, Y/n/n. I was toast if you wouldn’t have been there and you know it.”

He watched that frown come along again, saw that furrow in your brows and he knows you’re still blaming yourself for what happened earlier. He knows it and it tears him up.

You put a couple butterfly closure strips across the cut above his eyebrow, and one across the bridge of his nose. You clean him up and clean that blood that’s worked it’s way in his hair along the edges. That apology is still sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken a thousand times over to a man who won’t accept a single one unbeknownst to you. He won’t accept it because there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing away at it the way you do when you’re trying your very hardest not to cry. You don’t want to do that, not even a little bit, but the threat of you crumbling to pieces in front of him is becoming a little more real with each passing moment.

He looks a little better now that he’s cleaned up, now that he’s got those bandages on and that sweet smile that you know you don’t deserve. He looks better but he’s still hurt and that’s what’s nagging at you, that’s what’s wearing away at you. Two people got hurt today because of you, two people got hurt and one of them didn’t make it out alive. All because of you.

Your lip wobbles and you’re so close to losing it, so close to losing that stubbornness you’ve built up all for the sake of looking tough. That dam was about to break and you didn’t want it to.

“How ‘bout I take care of you now, sweetheart? I know your hand’s bust up pretty good,” he says, trying his best to take the heat off of you because he knows how much you don’t want to cry.

“‘M fine, Dean,” you say, stubborn as ever but he doesn’t care.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up. He’s careful as he unties the knot in that bandana, unraveling it and pulling the bloodied fabric away. His eyes bounce to the jagged cut running along the heel of your hand, stretching all the way across to your palm. It was angry and red, and it wasn’t quite done bleeding.

You weren’t fine, you were hurt and he wouldn’t believe you for a second if you told him again that you were fine.

“Demon got you good, didn’t he?” He said he stood up, urging you to sit down in his place.

“Could have been worse. Should have been,” you say softly, and you see the faint purse of his lips and that crease between his brows.

You’re not done beating yourself up about this one and he knows it, he knows how fragile you feel and he hates that he can do better for you. He hates that he can make you see it the way he does. Because it’s not your fault. It’s that simple, it’s not your fault.

He takes your hand in his once more, palm up as he looks it over. It’s not deep enough for any stitches, but it’s nasty enough to hurt a good one for a while. It’s bad enough to know that you’re not fine. He can see it in the way you try and tug your hand away when that dreaded peroxide comes in contact with it.

You wince as it bubbles and stings, searing across your palm as his grip remains around your wrist, his palm against the back of your hand. His thumb runs back and forth against your skin as he looks at it and at you. He wipes away the excess and the blood, wipes everything carefully to keep from upsetting the wound further and to keep from hurting you in the process any more than he has to to clean it up.

That wobble in your lip is worse than ever with round two, that pent up guilt overflowing and cracking at the walls you tried so hard to keep intact. They cracked and they cracked as he patched you up, wiping your hand clean as he grabbed a cotton pad and a roll of gauze.

It hurt, it hurt way more than you let on and it was quickly becoming too much to handle as he started wrapping your hand much more securely than before. He was gentle, but the built up emotion, that pressure behind your eyes, the weight of it all was too much to bear for a moment longer and the second he looked at you, that first tear rolled down over heated cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, kneeling down in front of you, “don’t go cryin’ on me now, sweetheart.”

His words were soft as his hand settled on your cheek, thumbing away the tear that fell and the few others that followed it. “Talk to me.”

You look at him, at those bandages he’s got, you look at the way his flannel is torn and the blood you missed in his hair. You look at him, you think about that hunt. You think about what went wrong that day, what went so horribly wrong and the way everything happened. You thought about it and you thought about the nagging and numbing pain in your hand and that’s when it tumbled out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as he knelt there in front of you. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, pulling you up as he stands. Your arms drop to wrap and his waist then, his grip on you tighter now as he tucks you under his chin. “Please don’t say that.”

He wasn’t going to let you blame yourself and that much was clear. He wasn’t going to let you even when you tried your hardest to make him believe it. That frustration came bubbling back in the midst of your tears, that stubbornness came back as you broke away from his embrace.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Dean. You don’t have to try and make things better just to spare my feelings.”

You turned away from him and wiped your tears, but you felt that gentle grip on your elbow, you felt him turn you back around and tug you in close again. You wanted that, you needed that real bad and you weren’t about to push it away a second time.

You hugged around his waist once more, face hidden against heaps of flannel and his t-shirt as he held you, steady and warm. His chin rested atop your head first before he moved to press his cheek atop it, breaking every now and then to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs after a little while, your crying having died down to stray tears that came and went. “It ain’t even close. You know why?”

You shook your head against him, whispering a soft response.

“We did the best we could today. You did the best you could. I know it sucks and I know it hurts, damn does it hurt sometimes, but sometimes we lose that fight,” he says against the top of your head before kissing your head, pressing his cheek there once more. “But we get back up and we try again the next day. Hunting ain’t easy, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t cope very well. You know that, sweetheart.”

He pulls back to look at you when you tip your head back, looking at you with a heavy gaze as he thumbs away those tears. You’ve got that unintentional pout as you reach up, you reach up and brush your thumb over that cut on his forehead.

“You’re hurt because of me, Dean.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he chuckles softly, bittersweet and he sees the way your gaze narrows.

“If takin’ a couple blows from a black eyed douchebag means I still get to have you here, I’ll take it,” he says, and it doesn’t help your frown.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” you grumble, exhaling a soft huff.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, shrugging lightly and you roll your eyes, your lip still wobbling. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before looking at you once more. “We can’t save everybody, sweetheart. It hurts, I know it does, I’m the freakin’ poster child for stuffin’ things down because I don’t wanna deal with it. I’m the worst at dealing with things. But bein’ a hunter ain’t easy. We try our best, every day we try our best. So don’t think for a second that I’m gonna blame you for this. For any of it.”

You’ve still got that narrowed stare but it softens a little, and you’ve still got that quiver in your lip but his words ease the weight in your shoulders a little bit more. Every time the thought of that hunt crosses your mind, it sends a jolt through you, makes you want to cry all over it again. It hurts and it will for a little while.

But he’s got you.

“I love you,” you whisper softly, nodding as you lean up on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek, and one to his lips. You sink back on your feet and rest your head over his heart as he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the crown of your head.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, softer than soft as his brows furrow at your sniffle, at that last bit of tears you’ve got left to get out.

It was hard, it was beyond hard to lose someone in a hunt. But it’s moments like these that make it better. He’s got you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho @lyarr24 @malindacath @happyt0exist @awkward-and-indecisive @ajreturnstocringeyaccount

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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yunopouts · 3 years

Text

touch - l. jeno

hi. i re-wrote it so it's not a virgin!reader anymore. now it's reader finding out jeno is secretly kinky... anyways, sorry about the original, it was dumb of me to even have virgin!reader and breeding kink in the same work :// okay anyways i hope everyone can enjoy this one :)

request:

I just want to preface that none of the gifs i use are mine unless i clearly state so!!

→ pairing: dom!jeno x girlfriend!reader

→ genre: smut

→ warnings: unprotected sex (wrap before you tap children!!), fingering, dirty talk, mirror sex (kinda), rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, corruption kink (kinda,,,)

→ word count: 2.6k

RUN THROUGH: I went through and checked everything from top to bottom. The first part was changed in the conversation, the middle was mostly kept the same, with the exception of some edits here and there. the end was also kept the same, again only a few changes were made.

You walked into your dining room, looking to ask your boyfriend a question. Poking your head out from behind the entry way, you smiled when you saw the blue haired boy sitting at the table staring at his computer. You watched him as he huffed a tired sigh, pushing up the round glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose. Silently giggling, you straightened yourself out and made your way to the table, sitting in front of him.

“Hi baby.” He grinned at you, his eyes sparkling when they met yours. A shy smile crept on to your lips as you responded with a small 'hi'.

Minutes passed as you watched in silence while the boy switched in between typing on his computer and scribbling into his notebook. His feet tangled with yours when he stretched out his legs, the two of you starting a game of footsies, your giggling voices filling the air around you. Your feet stayed tangled, and your boyfriend started to work again, when your question from earlier popped in your head again. You looked up eagerly, watching him lift his mug to his mouth.

“Hey Jeno,”

“Yes baby?” he replied, not looking up from his work.

“You know we don’t have to be vanilla all the time, right?” you quirked a brow.

The boy choked on his coffee, frantically looking for something to wipe the dripping drink. You handed him a napkin, which he snatched out of your grip and patted his mouth dry, coughing into it. “W-what?” He took his time to slowly recover from the sudden attack. “What are you talking about? I love being v-vanilla.” The way he said it was not convincing at all, so you just blinked at him and bit back a laugh.

“Well, I the other day I was cleaning up the room and when I was organizing the desk the Swiffer hit the mouse and woke up the monitor.” You explained, looking him straight in the eye. “You left that tab open.” You emphasized the word ‘that’ and noticed how the boys body tensed at the word.

A nervous chuckle left his lips, shutting his laptop and dodged your eyes every time you tried to look at him. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It was just porn.” You shrugged.

“Y-yeah but it was…” Jeno trailed off, trying to make ends meet. “You know.” Silence settles around you, Jeno’s aura seeming to affect it and make the situation awkward.

“Well, I’m saying that we can do what you want, all you have to do is just ask.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Wait, really?” you thought the hope in his voice made him even cuter than his already nervous self.

“Yes, of course.” You nodded with a slight smile. The boys body noticeably released the tension in his muscles, but he still seemed anxious.

With a huff, Jeno looked back into your eyes, irises darker than usual. “Um, a-alright.” He started, placing his notebook on top of his computer, moving it to the side. “Well, go… do whatever it is you need to do to prepare. Meet me in the room in five minutes.” You nodded, getting out of your chair, and headed to the bathroom. Fixing yourself up, you reassured yourself that your shower from two hours ago still had its effect, and that you were still clean. After that you brushed your teeth, flashing yourself a bright smile in the mirror once you had finished.

In the bedroom, Jeno was sitting on his side of the bed, body as still as a rock. He didn’t notice your entrance, so you waved in front of his face, which got his attention. The boy patted his lap lightly, signaling for you to sit. Complying, you didn’t want to put all your weight when you went down, but his hands shoved you on to him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The boy glanced up at you with hesitant eyes. Sighing heavily and rolling your eyes, you took the hands that were resting lightly on your back and moved them to your ass. You scoot in closer, his eyes growing wide.

“Jeno, didn’t we just talk about this?” the question was rhetorical, but a blush creeped on to his cheeks, taking a break from your eyes. It took him a few seconds to respond, like he actually had to think about the answer.

“Understood.” His calm voice was different from what his expression said, but your upcoming commentary was forgotten when Jeno placed a hand on your neck, pulling you into a gentle kiss. His pillowy lips moved softly against your own, in a passionate manner, like they’ve done hundreds of times. Hands sliding from your neck to your jaw, his thumbs rubbing on the bone as he deepened the kiss by adding his tongue. Jeno’s touch becomes hot against your skin and your lower half starts to move back and forth on his lap, to which Jeno let out a loud groan. His actions soon become rougher, teeth now clashing together as the session grew longer and messier, and you pushed Jeno back so that he was flat against the mattress.

Your boyfriend flipped your current position, so that he was hovering atop of you, pinning your wrists above your head. With a smirk gracing your now swollen lips, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him down to meet your core, just like he did you twenty minutes earlier. He ground himself into you while nipping at your earlobe. Moaning his name as he peppered kisses from your jaw all the way down to your exposed collar bones.

“Shirt…” you muttered. He loosened his grip on your wrists and your hands flew to the hem of his sweater, pulling up over his head and arms, throwing it somewhere in your bedroom. Jeno did the same to you, pulling off your t-shirt, exposing your guarded chest. Your hands travel up and down his chiseled stomach, muscles tightening under your touch while the boy was attacking your still covered chest, leaving markings everywhere.

Moving away from your body, he stared down at you with hard eyes. As he towered over you, thinking of how to go about this, you noticed how his expression changed from earlier; his nervous and innocent look had morphed into a dark almost threatening one. “Face the mirror for me, baby.” His voice was low.

“T-the mirror?” you stuttered, now feeling anxious. The boy nodded, jutting his head towards the full-length mirror that was your closet door. With hesitance, you shifted your body and faced your reflection. You watched Jeno through the mirror, his smirk growing as he fixated himself behind you, his bare chest pressed against your back. The boy brought his hands to the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with the help of you lifting slightly. Just like you did with his sweater, he flung your clothes across the room.

“Would you look at that.” He chuckled as he took your hand in his. Jeno lead them south, hovering them above your core. He dragged your nimble fingers along your slit, making you feel the wetness your body created. “How fast do you get wet?” he questioned, followed by a scoff. The deepness of his tone sent shivers down your spine and the feel of his skin against yours created little tingles that flowed through your body. “Someone must be excited.”

With your head against his shoulder, Jeno first stuck two in, to which you moaned loudly, closing your eyes. “Watch my fingers.” Instantly, your eyes shot open and were back on your reflection. Jeno’s mouth was right at your ear, so you could hear and feel the hot and heavy breaths that left him. In your ear the boy whispered things that made you feel dirty, in a good way. This was far from what you and he have ever done. When it came to sex, you always thought the two of you were on the same page: simple sex, nothing like what you were doing now. But that didn’t mean you weren’t open to it, obviously you were because here you are, watching yourself get finger fucked through your reflection.

“God, look at how you’re squirming.” He chuckled darkly. “I haven’t even fucked you yet, but you still look like my cockslut.”

You liked this new side of Jeno; well, it probably wasn’t new, but since he always been soft with you, it was indeed "new" in a sense. You loved the way he spoke to you, the grittiness in his voice, the way he was roughly moving his fingers inside of you. “I can’t wait to fuck you raw.” He practically growled into your ear.

“Jeno…” your breath hitched at the familiar knot of tension that had start to loosen.

“That’s it,” he eased. “cum for me.” Squeezing your eyes shut as you came on your boyfriends’ fingers. He let you grind on his hand, riding out your orgasm. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.” He ordered, taking his other hand and bringing it to your clit to rub it. When you whined, Jeno let out a laugh and curled the fingers inside you up.

“Jeno, fuck, that feels so good.” Your back arches off his chest, but he just follows your movements. His fingers move harder against your g-spot, sending shocks through your body. “Oh my god.” You repeated and repeated, on the verge of cumming again, after it barely being five minutes later. “Fuck, Jen- shit.”

Suddenly, he pulled away from you and left from behind you.

Whining in annoyance, you brought your own hand and got off without him. It felt good, but not as good as when he did it. You had come down from your second high, but you were still trying to calm your breathing. You couldn’t see Jeno’s expression when he found you whining and writhing on the bed, but boy was it hot. “I can’t believe my eyes.” He laughed. “Never thought I’d see my innocent little Y/N fuck her own cunt.” Your eyes now wide open, you found the boy standing at the edge of the bed, still half clothed.

“What do you think I do when you’re at work and I’m horny.” You rolled your eyes as Jeno let out a loud laugh. “Jeno.” He brought his now dark eyes to your own, showing him on your needy expression. “Please…” you averted your gaze to the massive strain in his pants, which made Jeno scoff. He shook his head with a devilish smirk. You scrambled on your knees and undid his pants, yanking them down, along with his stained boxers.

“You wanna suck my dick?” he raised a brow when you grabbed his fully hard length. You don’t really like giving him head, since you’re not the best of it, but today was different, something sparked in you.

Cracking your mouth open, you stuck your tongue out and let his cock slide to the back of your throat. Jeno let out a low moan, slowly thrusting into your mouth, pushing your hair away from your face you wouldn’t eat it too. (DAISY INTERRUPTS: BYE WHY DID I WRITE THAT) “Fuck baby, look at you deepthroating me like the angel you are.” He jerked his hips slightly harder than before. “You look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock.”

You coughed and choked a few times, making Jeno pull out to make sure you were okay, since he knew you weren’t used to it. “That’s enough.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wanting him back in your mouth. “Don’t worry, there are other ways of filling you with my cum.” He winked before easily shoving you further back on the bed. Just that statement had your pussy overflowing with arousal.

Jeno split your legs apart he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. He drew his cock up and down you slit, mixing his arousal, your arousal and saliva. He teased you by bringing his cockhead to your entrance, pushing in slightly and pulling out right after. Each time Jeno did this you hummed in anticipation before you whined in annoyance, his smirk growing wider and wider by the second.

“Jesus Christ, Jeno, just fuck me already.” You glared up at him. To your request, Jeno did just that and plunged right into you. His pace wasn’t too fast but still not too slow, but he pounded into you hard. His heavy thrusts made you reach for his back, clawing at the bare skin. Jeno let out a gruff moan, reveling in the feeling of your tight walls and the stinging on his back. “Faster.” Jeno’s eyes widened, and his hips slowly gained speed, soon starting to drill into you. You moaned loudly, begging him for things that you could never say in public.

“Oh, look at my little angel, so fucking tight for me.” He clenched his teeth. “Look at what a slut you’ve turned into, begging me to fill you up with my cum. God, what have I done.” His voice grew louder as he slammed his hips against yours. He looked down at your chest, eyes landing on the jackpot, which was conveniently placed in the front. Reaching his free hand forward, he unclasped your bra, revealing your tits. Jeno’s dark eyes glowed as he watched them move with his thrusts. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. I love your pretty little pussy and how it clenches around me. God, I just want to fuck it until I get a baby in you.” You whimpered at the thought of his cum filling you.

“Do it.” You hissed. “Please Jeno, harder.” You begged for the umpteenth time that night. He pressed a kiss into your calf, plunging his cock into you at an impeccable pace.

“There’s not much more room left.” He warned. “But, fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

“Just use it all. Good god, Jeno, just please, please, please,fuck me.” You sobbed out of pleasure. Jeno growled at the request, pressing your hips down into the mattress. With his cock practically hitting the entrance of your cervix each time he moved, you felt your climax beging building up, the tension starting to feel like the type you get when going up a roller coaster, but more… pleasurable. “Soon… close… cumming.” You muttered.

“Me too, angel.” He slid his hand up your stomach, touching your soft skin. “Shit, I’m so ready to fill you up. Do you want it? Want me to fill you up nice so that you’ll be full for days? That your pussy is stuffed with my cum and can’t hold anything else?”

“Fuck yes.” Your voice was breathy. “I want it so bad. Breed me.” Jeno almost screamed at your words, his cock twitching with anticipation.

“You’re gonna look so fucking hot when you’re pregnant.” His fingers got a hold of your nipple and started to pinch it, still continuing to relentlessly ram his cock into your hole. “I’ll fuck you and fill you everyday if I have to.”

“Fuck! Jeno, Jeno, cumming.” You screamed, your back arching, that roller coaster feeling finally crashing down into your third orgasm of the night. Jeno’s hips jerked back and forth to reach his own high, not pulling a single inch of many out when he did.

Slowing his hips down, he hunched over into your nape, muttering how “fucking good” he feels and more sweet nothings into your glistening skin. Your boyfriend stayed this way, finally growing soft inside of you minutes later.

Lazily knocking your head against his, you kissed into his hair "Not so bad was it?"

A dry chuckle came from his mouth. "Let's do it again."

#lee jeno #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct smut #i fixed it so now i hope everyone likes it

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smileyoongle · 3 years

Text

Falling for a lounge singer (Yandere!Mafia! BTS)// Kim Taehyung

Requested anonymously.

Summary: Working as a part time singer, you never thought you'd find yourself becoming the centre of attention of a man's life, especially one who you can't run from.

Word Count: 2.5K

The city was laid out brightly before you, cool wind making your hair stick to your glossy lips as you rested your elbows on the railing of the rooftop. Working for hours amidst people who were rich and liked to show off was stressful, especially when you knew you didn't fit in between them. If it wasn't for your voice, no one would even give you a second glance but there you were, attracting loud applauds every time you held the mic. It made you feel almost cocky but your conscience didn't allow it, reminding you of your place in this world time and time again.

With a soft sigh, you stared at the pretty sky, the stars scattered across it twinkling to grab your attention yet failing to do so. Because even though you loved the peace and quiet, your mind was restlessly loud tonight. Loud with thoughts about a man you had seen too many times, but never had the pleasure of meeting. A man who had sent you a single white freesia every night before disappearing without a word.

But tonight was different. Because he wasn't here. In fact, he hadn't been here for the last three days and if you were being honest, you missed him.

You missed his dark eyes that gazed at you with so much fervour that it made you dizzy. You missed how his attention made you feel like it was just the two of you in the room. You missed how he was so mysterious that you had convinced yourself to approach him. Yet, he managed to really slip away this time.

Glancing at the dried freesia in your hand, you traced it's dead petals, barely hanging on as the rest of it began to fall apart. This was the last one you had found near your vanity, not having seen another since he disappeared.

"Where did you go?" You mumbled, twirling the stem between your fingers, being as gentle as you could. There was no way for you to know if you'd ever see him again because every time you asked the staff about him, they just brushed you off by saying how some things were better left unknown. It made you wonder what was so bad about him that no one was willing to say a word.

"I'm right here, petal."

A deep voice stated from behind you, your heels quickly making you turn around to see who it was but the darkness and the distance between you two made it hard for you to tell. You frowned, watching the man's silhouette move closer to you, your fingers tightly holding onto your flower. And as soon as your eyes took in his face, your lips fell apart in a silent gasp.

There he was, looking at you with the same passion that his eyes held every time you saw him. You could feel your heart lose its rhythm, pounding erratically in your chest making you almost breathless. He was a lot more beautiful up close, your mind not having prepared you for seeing him here at all. Upon seeing you so speechless, he let out a low chuckle, one of his hands curled behind his back as his fitted black shirt hugged his biceps perfectly.

"Is this my punishment for having left you alone? You refuse to talk to me?" He asked, tilting his head to study your expression better. You remained silent, still processing the fact that the man you were so desperately looking for, was now standing so close to you. A part of you wanted to tell him that you could never be mad at him when he looked like an angel but your tongue stayed tied.

He hummed at your silence, taking another step towards, his eyes glancing at the dead flower that stayed intact between your fingers. Slowly, you felt his hand hold your wrist, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. Bringing it up, he took away the flower, throwing it somewhere to the side only to present another freesia before you, this one a striking red that made your heart skip a beat. You held onto its stalk as your mystery man placed it between your fingers, your cheeks growing warm at the way his eyes stayed fixated on your face.

“Red?” You asked, returning his gaze with an equally feverish one, his lips morphing into a smile upon hearing your voice.

“And she speaks.” He laughed lowly, his deep melody echoing in the silence of the night. Taking yet another step towards you, he placed his hands on the railing behind you, trapping you in close proximity. Your back rested firmly against the bars, your chest almost touching his.

“Yes, petal. Red. Do you know what it means?” He murmured, only loud enough for you to hear. Lost in his eyes, you didn’t notice the hand that was now tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips being the sole focus of the man’s attention. Resting his palm against your cheek, you found yourself leaning into his warmth, sighing at the butterflies you felt in your stomach.

“No,” you answered, closing your eyes when you saw him lean down until his lips grazed the shell of your ear. His long fingers brushed your hair away from your neck, your own hand clutching the flower tightly to calm your heart that was about to jump out of your chest.

“It symbolizes passion,” he whispered, his hands moving down to hold your waist and pull you flush against him. Speechless, you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip as your forehead fell against his shoulder.

“Who are you?” You inquired, finally asking the question that had been gnawing at you ever since you saw him. A dead silence fell over the both of you all of a sudden, a frown etching onto your forehead as you were made to pull away from him a little. You found yourself missing his embrace, feeling as though you had known him for a long long time.

“You don’t know me,” he said, more like telling himself again rather than asking you. Gently shaking your head, you placed your gaze on his chest, a peek of white bandages catching your eye from beneath the few buttons that were left open at the top of his shirt. Without a thought, you moved it a little to the side, your eyes widening at the small red patch that stained the centre of the dressing, your lips parting in shock at the realisation that it was, indeed, blood.

“What happened?” You asked, worry and concern lacing your voice. He pursed his lips, his jaw clenching ever so lightly along with his hold on your waist which grew tighter. Wincing in pain, you looked at him in confusion, wondering if you had said something to upset him. And before you could ask him, he said something that perished all the warm feelings that had been brewing in your chest lately.

“My name is Kim Taehyung, Y/N. And I’ll be really mad if you decide to run away now.”

With eyes as wide as they could be, you stood frozen in his arms, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Fear consumed your entire being, your throat running dry at the very thought of being here with Kim Taehyung, the man who was responsible for the rise of one of the biggest cartels in the world. His hands were stained with the blood of god knows how many people, the wound on his chest suddenly making a lot of sense. Losing your grip on his shirt, you let your arms fall to your sides, unmoving and unable to process the situation anymore.

Suddenly, you were aware of his burning touch all over you, your mind screaming at you to get away from him. Yet you didn’t make a move, because you knew very well that you were almost nothing in front of a trained killer who could snap your neck in the blink of an eye. Parting your lips, you willed yourself to scream as loud as you could, failing yet again with his icy glare staring you down.

Gone were all the emotions you had witnessed in his eyes a few minutes ago, making you feel as if this was a whole new man that you had never met before. A tear ran down your cheek, your brain slowly hitting you with the mixed amount of emotions that were driving you insane. You were hurt, scared, disappointed in yourself and a lot more you couldn’t yet place a finger on.

“Y/N,” his voice brought you back to him, wary of the hand that was now wiping away your tears. Eyeing him cautiously, you tried to think fast, escaping him being the only agenda on your mind right now.

Taehyung knew what you were thinking, it didn't take a genius to know that all you wanted was to run away from him before things became a mess. But it was too late now, your innocence having left Taehyung mesmerized a long time ago. And now that you were so close to him, he was ready to do anything to make you stay.

"I don't wanna die," you said, your voice wavering with the dying confidence that burnt in you like a flickering flame. Being in his arms felt good, but knowing that those hands could also push you off the roof without anyone finding out was a thought that overcame everything else.

"And you won't, petal. Just because I'm a dangerous man, doesn't mean I would lay a finger on you," he answered, quickly catching onto the fact that you thought of him as a killer. It hurt him to know that you so easily forgot every other feeling you had been sheltering all this time, his identity crumbling down to nothing in your mind. But he would fix it.

He would fix you.

His words were enough to let you know that he wasn't planning on letting you leave, convincing you seemingly the only thing on his mind. At this point, violence seemed your only answer, your eyes once more taking in the sight of the bandaging on his chest.

"I'm sorry," you apologized beforehand, inhaling nervously at his confused expression before digging your nails into his chest. A growl left his mouth immediately, his hands letting go of your waist as you pushed him to the side with all your strength and bolted towards the door.

Taehyung fell to the floor behind you, his hand covering his shirt right where the wound was, the wetness of the blood seeping through his bandages. He hissed in pain, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the wall. The sound of your cries felt like music to his ears, your small fists banging on the door which had been locked the second Taehyung stepped onto the rooftop. It was funny of you to think that you could overpower Kim Taehyung so easily, your obliviousness once again showing through your stupid attempt to escape him.

Tears ran down your cheeks upon the realisation that you were stuck here with him, your heart pounding in your chest just like your hands against the door. You were a fool to think Taehyung wasn't fully prepared. Of course he had expected this from you. Of course he was one step ahead of you.

"Please, someone open the door!" You begged, sobbing with your forehead against the cold metal, slowly sinking to your knees. Just then, you heard his laugh, deeply resonating around you as you frowned in silence. It was endless, not the kind of laughter you'd hear after a joke but the kind you'd hear only with the intention of being mocked. He was laughing at you and your silly attempt of running away from him, knowing very well that Kim Taehyung did not let go of things that he so desperately craved. You being one of them.

"Did you think it was that easy, Y/N?" He asked, his voice dripping with amusement. Turning around to face him, you stared at him with teary eyes, watching his painful state with a heart full of regret. You weren't one to hurt people at all, let alone intentionally and yet you had taken such a drastic leap tonight. To save yourself. That was truly justified, wasn't it?

"Petal, even if you had managed to leave this place, I'll have you know that I'll always find you." He grinned maliciously, making you truly scared of him. Gritting his teeth, he stood up, your back pressing against the door as he slowly proceeded to stalk towards you, his gaze pinning you down and rendering you unable to move. You felt like a prey before him, his angry eyes telling you just how much you had pissed him off.

"I just wanna go home," you stated, frowning at him with wet cheeks and quivering lips. Halting right before you, Taehyung kneeled down, his hand coming to rest against your cheek.

"And we'll go, Y/N. We'll go to our home," he mumbled almost lovingly, his eyes glistening with so much affection that if you didn't know any better, you'd think he loved you. The truth of the situation though, was that Kim Taehyung was obsessed with you and there was no way you were going to let him take you.

"N-no, I wanna go to my home," you dared, Taehyung's jaw clenching upon hearing your words. Within a second, his fingers dug into both your cheeks, your lips pouting at the force with which he was holding your jaw in place. Leaning closer to you, Taehyung's nose brushed against yours, your own hand taking hold of his wrist to make him let go.

"What a shame it'd be to know that your little sister had to die because you couldn't make the right decisions."

Eyes widening, you let out a whimper at his threat, your breath having been knocked out for a second. It was as if the world had stopped around you, your heart wishing that this was all just a bad dream. The thought of anything happening to your sister was enough to break your will, especially since you were the only one she had. If she were to get hurt because of the one person who was supposed to protect her, then you couldn't even begin to imagine how meaningless your own life would become.

Taehyung loosened his grip on your jaw, watching you cry harder because of what he had said. It hurt him to know that you were crying because of him but he had to say it. Sure, you were hurt right now, maybe you even hated him but he knew that once you became his, you'd never have to see a bad day in your life. He would love you so hard that you'd never think about anyone else ever again. It was going to be just you and him. Forever.

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her." You cried, sealing your fate with the devil with no chance of going back. Smiling fondly at you, Taehyung wiped your tears, the stench of blood hitting your nose only for you to see his crimson tainted hand grazing your cheek.

"I'll take very good care of you, petal. Don't you worry your little head," he cooed, your eyes staring at him with horror. You could feel the blood now staining your cheek, Taehyung's eyes adoring it with a hint of madness. His blood on your skin was like his name on a trophy, a sign of who it belonged to. And it gave Taehyung an immense amount of pleasure to see your innocence tainted with his filthy gore. The colour red was yours and Taehyung couldn't wait to paint you in it.

"We'll be drowning in love soon, just wait and watch."

A/N: Hiiii, see I am back again! I don't have much to say today cause I am really sad for some reason. You know, the kind of sad that makes you wanna just sit and cry all night? Yeah, it's THAT!

Anywayyyy! I'll probably be posting each member in a break of 4-5 days because I want each member to get their fill. Soooo, the next one comes in a while! Till then, have fun, guys. Ily<3

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #smileyoongle #mafia bts imagines #bts yandere #yandere bts imagines #bts taehyung #yandere taehyung #mafia taehyung #mafia boss taehyung #yandere mafia taehyung #mafia taehyung reaction #mafia bts reactions #yandere bts reactions

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

Daddy Issues

Nobody does it like you do. I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got daddy issues

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fingering (female receiving), oral (male receiving), Daddy Kink, passionate sex

Word Count: 2361

Author’s Notes: My GRAYstans unite! I have unlocked a new passion for Daddy!Grayson. Also, my headers either feature the reader image as Malia Tate from Teen Wolf or Jane Villanueva from Jane the Virgin.

“Are you SURE you want to make Sledge’s doghouse from scratch?” You asked, following your boyfriend, THE Grayson Dolan, into the backyard. Grayson and you had just adopted a puppy that he was FINALLY not allergic to, and he had become quite obsessed with wanting the absolute best for your new pup

“Babe, do you REALLY want our son to have some basic and boring dog house for the backyard, or wouldn’t it be more fitting for him to have a MANSION like the king he is?” Grayson suggests, wagging his thick eyebrows at you.

You gently shove his side, rolling your eyes at his response. “Fine, Sledge and I will just MONITOR your progress by the pool.” You call back to the pup, watching him gallop towards you both, wagging his tail. Grayson moves towards the garage to bring all of the wood and materials needed for the project onto the grassy area next to the pool, arranging the pieces by length.

Sledge lays down in the grass next to your lounge chair as you sit down, tightening your lavender string bikini bottoms on your hips. Today was GORGEOUS, the sun shining and the heat not sweltering, allowing for the perfect day to tan while you watched Grayson work.

You decided to start by tanning your back, lying with your face propped on a towel in the foldout chair. Your hands hold your phone out, scrolling through Instagram as you soaked in the summer rays.

Grayson started his plans by sawing the boards to the perfect length, pulling a pair of safety goggles over the top of his tousled long locks. You eye him carefully from where you lay, watching as he handled the saw with ease, cutting the board to its perfect size before continuing on to the next piece. Your eyes linger on the curve of his back muscles squeezing through the black tank top that clung to his figure.

Sledge barked, pulling you from your daze, demanding attention beside you. You place the phone by your side, smiling down as you sit up slightly to provide your furbaby with the attention he craved. “Are you watching Daddy work? Well, so is MOMMY.” You coo, running your fingers through his soft fur.

A half hour goes by, Grayson diligently putting together the pieces of wood, sweat dripping from his hair down through his beard. You decide it’s a good time for a hydration break, Sledge following you back inside the kitchen where you grab two bottles of water along with a dish to pour some out for your pooch.

“Gray, how about you take a quick break?” You chirped, approaching him as he leaned over and inspected his work. You hand him one of the water bottles, opening the other and pouring half into the dog dish you set beside your feet, Sledge lapping happily at the bowl.

“How’s it looking so far, boss?” Grayson teased, standing back to let you inspect his work. You tilt your head from side to side, putting your fingers out as a ‘frame’, closing one eye and then the other. Grayson let out a laugh as he watched you pretend to inspect like a ‘real’ boss, a huge grin spreading on his face.

“I’d say it looks sturdy so far, keep up the good work, EMPLOYEE.” You place a kiss to his cheek, sauntering back over to your lounge chair, sitting down to let the rays tan the front of your body.

After a few minutes of lapping at the water bowl Sledge moves back over to you, rolling happily in the grass. Grayson feels sweat drenching his black tank top, a mixture of the heat of the sun and the work he was putting into his project. He grabs the hemline and tugs it off, tossing the sweaty material in the grass next to him.

You can’t help but stop and OGLE at him when he removes it, a sinful image playing out in your mind. Your eyes roam over his sculpted chest, remembering how it felt when you ran your hands up and down his abdomen. Your eyes move up to look at his hair, long locks sticking to his forehead as he continues his work on the dog house. Lastly, your eyes fixated on his hands, watching the veins protruding as he hammered nails into the wood, forming the outside walls of what would be Sledge’s humble abode. Grayson looked DELICIOUS, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach flip-flopped at the sight, his cerulean swim trunks clinging to his hips.

“Hey G-Gray, I’m gonna go inside, watch Sledge for me, please?” He nodded, eyes fixated on the task at hand. You took one last glance in his direction, taking a mental picture before pulling open the screen door and heading directly towards your shared bedroom.

You needed relief after watching him work, he wasn’t even TRYING to seduce you and yet you still felt dampness between your thighs. You opened the bedroom door and shut it behind you. Your body stumbled forward, flopping back against the bed, shimmying out of your bikini bottoms, tossing them to the floor.

Your eyes fluttered closed, REWINDING the image of Grayson working outside in your head, the back of your lids acting as a screen for the projected image. Your delicate fingers slid down your chest to your core, circling around your bundle of nerves and letting out a soft moan. You pictured the way he tossed his shirt off, how the sweat GLISTENED on his skin, that perfect beard you refused to let him shave.

Fingers move lower, parting your folds and moving in and out of your core, arching your back against the bed. You continued pumping your fingers in and out, feeling that familiar buildup in your chest when you heard the bedroom door open, Grayson taking in the sight of you.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He asked, arms crossing against his bare chest. Your eyes snap open, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket over you. As if he HADN’T seen what you were doing just moments ago.

“N-Nothing, I think I am just exhausted from the sun. I figured I needed to lay down and rest a bit.” You stuttered, a hand moving from below the blanket to scratch nervously through your locks.

Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he approached you on the bed, standing just at the edge of it and holding your gaze. “Babygirl, don’t LIE to me, you know I don’t like it when you lie.” He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you, eyes still locked on yours. “Were you TOUCHING yourself?” He asked.

Your cheeks start to feel hot, a rosy blush spreading across them. “Y-Yes, I was. You just looked so good outside and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working so I came in here and-” Grayson holds out his hand, silencing you before you can finish your sentence.

“You’re forgetting the rules, babygirl, REMIND me what they are.” He questioned, his voice lowering an octave. Your bottom lip quivers, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. “N-No touching myself, only DADDY gets to touch me.” You whispered, your gaze darting to the bed to avoid his stare.

“Look at ME.” He demanded, his tone making your eyes snap up immediately. “Yes, only daddy gets to touch you, and what happens when we disobey, babygirl?” You swallow the lump in your throat, eyes going wide.

“Y-You, you get PUNISHED.”

“Exactly.” He responds, two fingers beckoning you towards the edge of the bed. “Turn around, ass up.” You follow his instructions, crawling to the edge of the bed and turning around. Grayson’s fingers grab your neck, pushing your head down against the mattress. “You’re going to count to ten for me, if you stop counting we’ll start all OVER.”

The first smack across your ass made your pussy tighten, wincing slightly at the burn of his thick hand against your skin. “O-One.” You sputtered.

“Good girl, keep counting.” He commands, sending another smack to your flesh.

“T-Two...three...four...five.” Tears are welling up in your eyes, a mix of both pleasure and pain through each strike to your tanned skin. You don’t want to falter though, you know it’ll be MUCH worse if you add more slaps to the count.

“S-six...seven...eight...nine...ten.” Tears are now flowing down your face, staining your cheeks in the light coat of mascara you had applied that morning. Grayson moves the pressure off your neck, letting out a deep breath.

“What a good GIRL, see, I knew you could be good for me.” He flexes his hand in a fist and then stretches it out over and over, relaxing the muscles as the sting starts to dissipate. “I think it’s time that I get a THANK YOU.” You know EXACTLY what he’s asking, turning around to face him, eyes level with the thick bulge in his shorts.

“Yes daddy.” Your fingers tug down the shorts, his thick cock springing free against his chest. You lick your lips before reaching up, taking his cock into your hand and SLOWLY stroking it. Your mouth parts, lips curling around the tip, sucking and licking before moving them lower and lower down the base.

His fingers move to grip your hair, a groan of delight leaving his lips. “That’s it baby, open your mouth, let me fuck that perfect mouth of yours.” You do as you’re told, relaxing your jaw and letting him slide further. Not only was he thick, but LONG, tears welling up as he pushed all the way in, your nose touching the skin right below his belly button. He uses your hair as his reins, bucking his hips in and out, a mixture of your spit DRIPPING from the sides of your lips down your chin and neck. Grayson keeps his eyes on you, watching you sputter around him, his teeth grinding together.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He pulls out abruptly, a string of saliva linking your mouth to his cock, and you feel utterly EMPTY. Grayson tilts your head up with his hand, ushering you to get up. “That’s enough, don’t want to cum in your mouth today, want to cum inside you.”

His hands push you back against the bed, untying the bikini top you still wore, revealing your bare breasts to him. His hand moves to grip his cock, rubbing the red and swollen tip against your folds, a dark smile on his face. “You are already SO wet, babygirl. Do you want me to fuck you?” You nod up at him but you know that’s not what he wants, he wants you to use your WORDS.

“Yes, Gray...I mean, daddy. Please fuck me, want to feel you cum inside me.” The words are satisfaction, the code that unlocks his motions as he pushes inside of you, working in slowly as your walls INSTINCTIVELY tighten around him, pulling him deeper. After a moment he bottoms out, holding himself there, looking down at you.

“So fucking tight, babygirl. Your cunt was MADE for me.” He moves his hips, pulling out almost completely before slamming himself back in, eliciting a whine from your throat. He continues at the same pace, pulling almost completely out and pushing back in fast, your voice becoming louder which each thrust.

“Gotta keep it down, you know Ethan is still sleeping. Wouldn’t want to wake him up. Or maybe you do, huh?” He asked, two of his fingers snaking between your breasts down to your clit, circling it. “Want Ethan to know that you’re a SLUT for my cock? How your daddy is the only one that can please you?”

You moan loudly, your voice hoarse from the way he fucked your throat earlier. “Yes daddy, I want EVERYONE to know I’m yours.” His hips slap into you over and over, fingers circling your clit with more pressure now. He can tell you’re close to coming, your walls clenching and unclenching him, your thighs shaking as his own hold you apart.

“Uh-uh, gotta ASK if you can cum babygirl, you know better.” Grayson’s free hand moves to your neck, wrapping around it JUST enough that your breathing gets harder, but not enough that you might pass out.

“Fuck, PLEASE daddy, want to cum on your cock, want to show you how good I can be.” You choked out, picturing the way his hands had moved around the wood and saw earlier that were now around your throat.

Grayson is pleased by your words, eyes focusing on your face and his fingers rubbing against you faster. “Yes, babygirl, CUM on my cock.” He can barely finish his sentence before your orgasm hits you, crying out loudly, tears flowing from your eyes with pleasure. He continues his movements, feeling your walls tightening around him and knowing he can’t hold on anymore. “Gonna cum, baby, gonna coat your walls with me, want you LEAKING my cum.” A groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, his cock pressed deep inside you as he spurts thick ropes of cum into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, closing them as you continue coming down from your high, his hand moving off of your neck so you can fully breathe. His hips stutter briefly, letting you milk his cock before he pulls out, noticing your dazed state.

“Hey...come back to me baby.” He whispered, moving to lay down next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face. Your eyes FINALLY flutter open, a lazy smile on your lips. “Sorry about that, you really did just look so good I couldn’t help myself.” Grayson let out a deep chuckle, tugging you into his side, his fingers roaming up and down your back.

“Don’t apologize baby, next time just tell me and I’ll stop to USE you how you need to be used.” He glances at the door, hearing a whine from Sledge, pulling him back to reality. “Our SON wants you.”

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nope, YOU can deal with him now, you fucked all of the energy out of me.”

Tagging my GRAYstans: @midnightf | @certainaesthetic

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan x reader smut #fanfiction #doubleleoenergyworks

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

Speak Now | Quackity

Requested? Never

Warnings? None?

Summary: You have to watch your best friend and secret crush get married. (Based off Speak Now by Taylor Swift!)

Word Count: 1,581

Alex holds the velvet box out to you, flipping it open to show an elegant wedding ring. Your eyes flip back and forth from the ring to Alex, a nervous smile spread across his lips.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you liked the ring, didn’t know if you could tell Alex through tight lips and locked jaw that his girlfriend would love it. You didn’t know if you could lie straight through your teeth.

Instead, you wanted to tell him that the ring was perfect but he was giving it to the wrong girl. That he should be showing you the ring while asking the question you had dreamed of for so long.

But unfortunately, that’s not how things work.

You had been in love with your best friend for years now and while you never took Alex for someone who was clueless, he certainly challenged that when it came to your feelings. It was like he became blind to your compliments, your loyalty, your selflessness, your attention, your physical touch, everything. You swore he just thought of it as being “good friends”.

So, the minute he pulled out a diamond ring for his girlfriend, your heart couldn’t help but shatter the little bit left holding out for Alex.

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him and relief visibly floods through him.

“I’m so excited,” he says, leaning forward and wrapping you up in a hug.

“Me too,” you say quietly into his shoulder, holding back tears.

In the days following, you watched as Alex announced his engagement to you, your friends, and all of his fans. When the notification graced your phone, you couldn’t help but cry. You had become used to Alex not returning your feelings but this? This was permanent and real, and a reminder that Alex didn’t love you the way you loved him.

However, as all best friends do, you put on a smile. You accepted when he asked you to be a part of his wedding party and excitedly planned along with him, taking a piece of your heart out and giving it to Alex every chance and him walking over it unknowingly.

The months leading up to the wedding were excruciating. And you were shocked when they only got worse.

“(y/n)?” Alex asks one day.

You look up at him, nerves coursing through you as he looks at you with worried eyes. Your heart falls, somehow knowing and having no clue what the next words out of his mouth would be.

He sits next to you, his focus on the carpet before him, toeing at the fabric with his foot nervously. He glances at you for a moment as his hands come together in front of him. Everything about him screams anxiety, and you want to rub his back and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

“You,” he hesitates and for a moment you think he’s crying, but convince yourself it’s the terrible lighting in your apartment.

“You can’t come to the wedding,” he finally chokes out.

Your head tilts, and for a moment it feels like someone wrapped a hand around your heart and squeezed.

“Wha-“ you start but Alex talks over you, word vomiting like no tomorrow.

“Claire said she would feel uncomfortable with you there and wants me to take a step back from our friendship.”

Alex’s eyes flicker from the ground he’s so fixated on, to your blank expression. You felt like this was one big prank. That it had to be a joke being uninvited to your best friend’s wedding. While you knew your heart would be cracking and falling to pieces at the altar in front of you when you saw Alex get married, you still didn’t want to miss your best friend’s big life event.

You’re utterly speechless, as Alex apologizes once more, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leaving. You sit in the same position, rethinking the conversation for what feels like hours.

Alex felt like he left his heart in that apartment with you. He felt like he had severed a limb, and it was missing after telling you the news about his wedding. Truly, you meant everything to him. You were the girl who had captured his heart and would entrust you with it forever, knowing you’d never do anything to hurt him.

And yet that’s all he was doing to you and himself. He wished all of those years ago he had said something, done something, manned up, and just admitted it to you. But here he was, feeling like he needed to go through with this to hold a semblance of happiness in the future.

You had finally snapped yourself out of the shock, your body moving without really thinking about the motions. You find yourself calling Karl, your best friend who knew everything about the situation between you and Alex. He was even the one to introduce the two of you.

You explain what happened in quiet sentences, Karl insisting he’ll be over in a flash. It’s true, it feels like you’re up and answering the door in the next few minutes to a pity-stricken Karl.

“Honey,” he frowns, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I don’t want to see him get married but I don’t want to miss it,” you whine and Karl’s frown deepens.

“They gave me a plus one, just come with me,” he decides and you look up at him, hope in your eyes.

“I’m sure as hell not going alone and definitely not going without you there,” you giggle lightly and lean up to press a kiss to Karl’s cheek.

As the day of the wedding approaches, you and Alex talk less and less. He had distanced himself ever since breaking the news to you and you had half hated it and half appreciated it. You were able to nurse your heartbreak and prepare yourself for one of the hardest days.

On the day of the wedding, you get ready with a hint of nerves. Your hands shake putting your earrings in, and it’s practically impossible to fasten your heels. Just as you’re attempting to put on a necklace, the doorbell rings. You sigh, heading over and swinging it open to see Karl standing before you.

You take in his appearance, a soft smile crossing your lips as you hold out the necklace in front of you.

“Can you help?”

Karl doesn’t respond at first, scanning your body up and down in awe. You had picked out a pale pink dress, white heels, and scarce jewelry but you look stunning nonetheless.

“Holy smokes,” he breathes out.

“Oh shut up,” you joke but smile wide at your friend regardless.

Karl finally takes the necklace from your hands, pulling it around your neck and fastening it till it sits just right. His hands trail over your shoulders, squeezing them lightly before dropping his hands.

“Ready?”

“As I ever will be.”

The venue is gorgeous, nothing less for the bride. You and Karl make your way in, your eyes wandering about the room and taking in the details. You find her family sitting in the front row, annoyed looks matching their obnoxious outfits. You try not to frown as you see people greeting each other fondly, speaking fond words about the future husband and wife.

You find seats together and Karl watches you as your face falls, hearing the sound of the wedding march. The music is grating on your ears, another reminder that you never wanted to be here in the first place.

Everyone begins to stand, and you turn to look at the girl who had stolen your best friend’s heart. She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen, her dress flowing behind her. You risk a glance at Alex and find he’s already staring at you.

Alex was shocked when he saw you sitting with his best friend at his wedding. His heart seized at the sight of you in a beautiful dress, and his mind wanders to how you would look in a wedding dress, walking towards him now.

It feels like the wedding goes by in a blur, your heart shattering slowly, piece by piece as vows are exchanged.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,”

It’s dead silent as the preacher looks over the crowd, and without a second thought, you stand. From next to you Karl’s eyes widen and you feel your hands shake as you look at Alex. The rest of the crowd stares up at you with horrified looks, and you half expect someone to yell at you to sit back down.

“I am not the kind of girl who should be doing this,” you start your eyes never leaving Alex’s.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,” you finish.

The entire crowd is in an uproar, the only person on your side being Karl who cheers loudly at your proclamation. Alex steps towards you and you make your way out of the aisle. He approaches you, uncertainty is in his eyes.

“Don’t say yes, run away with me, make the right choice,” you whisper, and his look of uncertainty falls into one of careful consideration.

“Okay,” he says and a smile widens onto your lips.

“Let’s go.”

#quackity imagine #quackity x reader #quackity fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt fic #quackity x y/n

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sekceesimps · 3 years

Text

Dying Light (a yandere Zhongli x reader oneshot)

summary: Zhongli comes to claim his darling after she fails to fulfill her end of the contract

a/n I wish I could say this was requested but I love this man too much. Writing this one had me feeling some kind of way… Hope you all enjoy and leave some requests (pls do yandere Genshin 🤧 smh)!

Sincerely Coffee

His dark hair shines vividly in the solemn moonlight. Amber eyes radiant, like the purest of diamonds, and fixated right on you. You stand before him and try to subtly shrink away under his piercing gaze. The candles in the room flicker from some gusts of wind coming in. Zhongli seems stiff and at attention, but at the same time far away, lost in thought. Your light and unconscious movement backwards out of fear, unnoticed by you, immediately snapped the archon’s thoughts back to you.

A ghost of a smile begins to dance its way onto his handsome face, a stark difference to the dangerous threats he had whispered into your ear just moments ago. The light gave him an eerie appearance.

“Darling Y/N, I’m afraid that you didn’t uphold your end of the bargain,” he frowned and cocked his head mockingly. You step backwards some more until your back hits the wall of the funeral parlor. He has a predatory gaze now as he steps forward and pins a hand on the surface next to your head. He leans forward to further take in your panic. It brought him distress to see that you weren’t comfortable around him.

“I’m sure you were a good girl and read the fine print. Surely you must be aware that at the end of our contract, if it was that you couldn’t fulfill your end of the deal, then you must join the greatest contract of all time with me?” he continues and runs another hand hand teasingly down your jaw.

“Perhaps you could entertain me and tell me what that greatest contract is?” you ask hesitantly. Beginning to feel the gravity of the situation as you notice the way the archon caresses you and looks at you with eyes filled with a dangerous sort of adoration.

“Oh Y/N, you’ve been bad, I thought you understood everything when you signed. I mean marriage of course,” he answered gleefully, eyes sparkling with affection and excitement at your shocked expression.

Yes, just when did this feeling for you begin, he had pondered to himself. There was no mistaking that these emotions he felt for you were love. He was sure that you also loved him, so why did you look so afraid? He would show you again how perfect the two of you are.

- - -

Zhongli is not one to break his word. He is the archon of contracts after all. When you had approached him, as Rex Lapis, a few months ago he had decided to learn much more about you.

You were an interesting mortal and had almost immediately caught the God’s attention. The geo archon had taken to shying away from the affairs of humans over the last hundred years or two. However he tended to make exceptions for interesting people with even more interesting requests.

“I’d like to ask for some help,” your melodic voice said, breaking the silence in Rex Lapis’s abode. “If that means signing into a contract with you, then I accept,”

He appeared near you in an instant, “Even if that means not getting the best deal?” he asks, startling you slightly.

“Yes,” you breathe out lightly.

“Hmm, you’ve caught my interest,” he responds, putting a hand to his chin, as if he was thinking long and hard about a potential deal with you, “do go on with what you need my help for” he finishes. Of course, he already knew what you needed. He had been watching you for quite a while, but he loved hearing your voice and being near you for once.

“I need to find someone and I can’t do it by myself. Could you please lend me your strength and assistance as I look for this person” you practically begged him. Oh how he wanted to hear your begging in a different context. It was taking everything within him to not tug you by your hair and bring you to his side forever by force. He knew that you probably wouldn’t appreciate that and he still had to do his job and draft a contract. That is when the idea had struck him to skillfully find a way to keep you with him forever.

“Very well, let us start writing up a contract then,” he pronounces with a tone of disinterest, secretly preening with joy on the inside. You perk up and smile largely at him, it brought him satisfaction knowing that he made you feel like that.

“Alright that should be everything,” he finishes and removes his quill from the scroll. “I will come to you whenever you need help, all you must do is call out my name. As for my benefit, all you need to do is find this person you hold dear and that will be enough for me. You have the next 70 days to complete this, of course there will be a punishment if you can’t fulfill your end. However I have the most faith in your skills.” you nod at him in confirmation as you take the pen from him and leave a scrawling signature on the paper. A glowing binding tying you to the archon, prompting you to blush at how close the two of you were now. “Don’t disappoint me, Y/N'' he whispered and let you leave his abode with a smile. The first step in his plan to make you his was finished. Time to wait for your inevitable failure.

Now he wasn’t going to actively make you fail, he still was true to his job and bound himself to you so that you could call him for help. He would still assist you as well. However, he agreed to what you wanted because he knew the task itself was impossible. This brother you were looking for was long gone for sure, he made sure of that before he signed on to your contract. He couldn’t wait for when the two of you would finally be spending the next few weeks together.

Zhongli was smart about the way he conducted himself around you. He was careful not to give you any hints of his true intentions. Sometimes though there would be foolish people who pushed him. Whenever he saw you talking with, brushing arms with, or giving attention to others, the archon would be fuming. Of course, he would let it simmer, playing for the long game instead. It never failed to make him angry and anxious that these insignificant mortals thought they had a change with his future wife, it caused him to let out a tsch in annoyance.

The two of you had wonderful moments in your quest. Your ability to work well together in battle allowed for quick defeats of random hilichurls on the journey. Truly your skills were something he admired and loved about you.

The first night you left a parting goodnight kiss on his cheek was what made him truly believe in life again. Your warm lips against his skin ignited a flame within him that he didn’t know he yearned to have lit. It began to become a sort of tradition between you two for the next months.

His favorite moment with you by far was when the two of you had been drinking and you allowed him to come into your bed. Now, not in THAT way. You didn’t like how he had been sleeping on the ground whenever you spent the night in a tavern so you told him to just sleep in the bed with you. It had been an awkward fit at first due to his taller frame. His long limbs were cramped painfully so you let him wrap his arms carefully around your body. Both of you take in and are intoxicated by the other’s warmth. He could get used to the way you faced him and nuzzled your face into his neck. He had fallen asleep and had the most wonderful rest for the first time in a while.

After the two of you woke up and cuddled in the morning, “Should the day ever come where we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories” he had smiled and gently taken your hand into his own as he brushed his lips softly against your knuckles. His words and soft actions prompting a light blush across your face.

He didn’t know how much longer he could wait for you. Every moment he was with you, but not truly in the way he desired wound him up more and more. He knew he would snap very soon.

- - -

You tremble against the cold breeze and his warm touch as he leans closer to you and captures your warm lips with his own in a passionate kiss. His hands traveling down further onto your flushed skin.

Now that you were his in an unbreakable bond, he finally felt at ease. With you, Zhongli felt at home for the first time in thousands of years. He would protect you from any and all threats. If it meant keeping you safe with him, then he would tear apart all of Teyvat. After all, you belonged to this archon now.

As the sun begins to rise, you notice the dying light within the parlor, fading candles leaving behind a darker atmosphere. A perfect metaphor you think, if he kept touching you like this then you knew that your own resolve would also die out, completely accepting the ownership that he had over you.

Zhongli notices your wandering gaze before he takes your face between his slender fingers and forces you to look up at him. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how much you mean to me. Let me remind you,” he announces as he lifts you up and brings you towards his room. Indeed, he would be spending the next few hours reminding you of his love, before you embark on the next chapter of your lives together, courtesy of his subclause turning you into an adeptus in addition to being his wife forever more. He had all the time in the world to get you to comply and love him as dearly as he loves you.

a/n why am I so in love with this man 🧎‍♀️

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #morax #morax x reader #sfw #yandere #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader

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atzsslut · 3 years

Text

requested by @let-this-be-a-lesson from this, and this list.

chosen prompt(s) :

#1 - “Is that my sweater?”

#11 - “If you were my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

pairing : bang chan x fem ! reader

genre : fluff

warnings : long time best friends, very obvious crushing, kind of more than friends (unidentified relationship) to lovers, implied slow burn

word count : 2.4k words

You promised to meet Chan almost an hour ago.

The adrenaline coursed through your body as you ran out of the bathroom after a shower, which was relatively dangerous but you didn’t care, sprinting back to your room to get into some decent clothing.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost punched it from the frustration. But you didn’t, of course, as if you didn’t have enough bad luck already.

Are you that stupid to have fallen asleep on the couch? You thought to yourself. You were much too thankful that you already washed your hair in the morning, so it looked good enough now.

As you dropped your towel, you swore that you’ve never grabbed such a mismatched set of underwear and bra before, but it didn’t matter. You’d opt yourself to become quicksilver if it was for Chan.

Your hands let themselves skim through until your phone lit up on top of your cupboard and showed three notifications from the man himself. You froze in your spot reading the following messages.

chan: okay :( if u insist [5:02 PM]

chan: but since u seem tired [5:03 PM]

chan: i’ll pick u up since i’m only 10 mins away [5:03 PM]

Your mind went back to when you had woken up to three missed calls from Chan, various texts asking if you were alright since you never missed a ‘hangout’. At least, that’s what you two always called your frequent meets.

Your first instinct was to call him back, your voice rather nasally from the blocked nose you always got after sleeping. His kind voice kept replaying in your head;

“Chan, I’m so so sorry-”

“Oh, did you just wake up?”

“I.. yes. Yes I did. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep because I ran a million errands up until 3pm.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you want to move our hangout to some other day? I think I’m quite free this week.”

“No, no. I need to see you, honestly. My stress has piled up and it’ll be great to see you. You always cheer me up.”

“I try my best, Y/N. I’ll wait for you as long as you’d like. Go get ready!”

“Will do, Mr. Bang. Thank you so so much!”

The last thing you heard after the call ended was his farewell that was mixed in with his infectious laugh, and that was when you ran towards the shower to get the thin layer of sweat that always came after a nap in the living room.

Your fingers quickly typed away a ‘did god send u down to me as my angel or smthn THANK U BANG CHAN’ before going back to rushing to pick out a nicer outfit.

Because of him willing to pick you up, you had an extra ten minutes to get ready but your mind was still blank from the adrenaline rush. You had picked yourself out a cream-coloured pleated skirt, but you had no idea what to pair it with until you saw a familiar black sweater pushed to the back of the drawer.

You weren’t too sure why it was familiar to you, but it was nice enough for you to use with the skirt. For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, it hugged your body well enough, but the area where you could see the stitch of the shoulders were clearly too broad for you, falling around the middle of your upper arms.

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember buying this but it’s so comfortable.

And just like he said, Chan was there in ten minutes, voice heard through your apartment intercom, asking you to come downstairs. Although you tried to ignore it, you were excited just from hearing his voice through that old system speaker.

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, you smiled seeing the boy standing around, clearly waiting for you to come down, as he kept shifting his feet.

It was music to his ears as well when he heard you call out his name. Although he would never admit it, or so he thinks, he swore that he heard a hymn whenever ‘Chan’ spilled from your lips. But he shook that away when he reached in for a side hug.

“Hey you.” he said, “You look awfully fresh for someone who just woke up.”

“I work my magic.” you boasted, not wanting to admit the fuss you made for him. Since Chan was a bit taller than you, not by too much (which you teased him about, but he only let it be because it was you), you held onto him as well by slinging your arm around his waist.

And as you both walked to the parking lot at the front, stuck together like two pieces of paper with a hefty amount of glue in the middle, that was when Chan stopped right in front of his car.

You looked at him with concern, thinking that he’d probably left something inside, “Did you forget something?”

He paused, looking at you with the face he’d make whenever Felix did something strange. That wasn’t new, but you felt flustered when he let you go and stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes checking out your whole body.

You looked at him strange, not understanding what he was doing. Your hand only clutched your bag strap harder, not understanding the situation. But before you could say anything, he cut you off.

“Is that my sweater?”

And the realization hit you.

A few months ago, Chan had gone to your place to spend some time with you after not getting to meet you for three weeks. But of course, the two of you did not look at the weather forecast when a rainstorm dawned over the whole of Seoul.

You insisted that Chan should not be driving in this weather in fear of a accident, but he did have to get his car to the indoor parking lot incase it began to hail. However, once he had gotten back, the umbrella you had given him was soaked and so was he, the two of you getting into a hysterical laughing fit at the state he was in.

In all seriousness, you did quickly get him out of the clothes he was wearing and washed them, shyly looking away when he directly began to take his shirt off in the living room until you yelled “Chan! I have a bathroom!”

However, as the night passed, after he slept in the same bed as you, finding his arm around your waist in the morning to which he quickly pulled away in surprise— he left with only his jeans and socks that had been dry cleaned.

“Oh shit, this is your sweater!” you swore, the event having replayed itself in your forgetful mind, “I’ll clean it after this and give it back to you.”

“Oh, no. You look better in it than I do.” he complimented.

In between your reminiscing, he had clicked the car key, making the vehicle make the familiar unlocking sound and flashing lights. Running over to your side, he opened the door for you.

“M’lady.” he offered,

“M’Chan.” you joked, only to laugh for a bit then go in with a murmured, “Sorry that was cheesy.”

“It was!” he admitted, yelling so you could hear him through the car glass since you closed the door already. He did his little jog over to the drivers seat and went it rather smoothly, not that you were impressed by that.

“So, arcade?” he asked, smiling when you nodded and tapped excitedly on his dashboard.

Once again, in ten minutes, the two of you had reached the destination, quickly running out as if the both of you were six, and not in your early 20s.

As you ran into building, fluorescent hitting your eyes with a familiar nostalgia coming alongside them, much too familiar from the high school days of you and Chan going to another arcade that was already closed down now.

“So, what do you want to do first?” you asked, as if you didn’t guess the answer already.

Chan looked forward, scanning the place more and finally seeing a row of big, bulky, metal boxes that couldn’t be missed. He pointed at them, rather cutely to add, smiling down at you.

You gave him an excited grin back, happy that you guessed right in your head. You walked ahead, pleased to hear him tread behind you at a faster pace to catch up with you.

Drawing back the curtain, the two of you went inside and swiped the arcade card that you had because of several trips that were forced by your auntie with your little cousins. Luckily, there was still money inside.

The recognizable ‘twinkling’ sound of the photo booth rang in both your ears, opting you to choose the frame decor, etc.

And as the screen showed both your faces, a robotic voice was heard through the same speakers at the sides of the booth, stating ‘please move more towards the centre, thank you’

But if anyone were to look inside, you and Chan were already considerably close, especially since the bench space wasn’t wide at all. But you side-eyed the boy, scooting closer to him as he did the same to you.

You felt his arm squish against yours, feeling flustered at the sudden contact.

“Can..uh..” he trailed, “Can I put my arm around you? I.. I think it’ll make the pictures look less awkward, don’t you think?”

“Y-yeah!” you responded a bit too enthusiastically. Clearing your throat, you gave him the gentle smile that he could never hate, “Yeah. Go ahead, Chan.”

He did as he asked. Unlike the playful hug that you two had shared in your apartment lobby, this one felt more intimate, especially when you saw the screen reflecting the two of you.

You could feel his rings dig against his cotton sweater on your body, assuming now that it was yours, comfortable enough for you to feel secure— at home. Nevertheless, you always felt that Chan was your home.

Your eyes fixated on the screen as you moved forward to press the red button that would soon make you both take simultaneous pictures together.

We look good together, you thought to yourself, Wait what? Shut up.

But why did this feel different? You two had taken hundreds of photos together, varied with ridiculous, attractive, and unnecessary ones. But you swallowed that wondering lump in your throat, quickly dismissing it as you posed with Chan for each one, your vision rather blurry for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint.

And as the twelve clicks ended, Chan stood up first. You were quite upset about the absence of his embrace, but didn’t mind it when he smiled at you like he always did,

“Let’s see the pictures.” he held his hand out for you to take, which you graciously did, feeling the pit of your stomach drop as you, as per usual, questioned what your relationship with him was at this point.

The two pairs of feet, albeit the both of you were wearing matching shoes on accident, met their way towards the printing area. Looking at the screen which read 99% complete, Chan heard the sound of the photo paper hit the stopper that avoided the prints from falling on the ground.

He bent down and took it, showing it to you. Naturally, your arms went around his left bicep, hugging it to look closer. Chan sucked in his breath, knowing that if he was in a cartoon right now, his brown head of hair would be sticking up in all places as a silhouette of his heart pumped dramatically out of his chest.

It was ironic, as most of your friends would say; it was ironic how you two hugged often but got shy whenever your hands would simpy graze, it was ironic how you two were so affectionate yet were so resistant, and it was very ironic that your ‘hangouts’ weren’t dates at this point.

He watched as you pointed at his face from top to bottom, questioning,

“You’re not even facing the camera in most of these! Stop looking at me and look at the lens next time. Do you want to retake these?”

Your question wasn’t too hard, but you didn’t understand why Chan looked at you with such solemn eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was frustrated. But the look was soon replaced with one that held adoration, but that only increased your confusion.

“I mean.. we don’t have to retake these, Chan. What do you want to do?”

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. Not a bone in his body was willing to let that out but his mind decided to play a little game of “thinking out loud”. The impulsivity of the statement made the two of your freeze in front of the photo booth.

But there was something that the both of you knew, something that neither of you wanted to admit. You had been friends for too long, had been too close for too long, but what was different now?

Why, after more than ten years of being best friends, was now the best time for you two to be together?

But something resided within you, and in Chan as well. This was to atone for all the pain you two had experienced without one another. You and Chan always wondered why you’ve always loved, but never been in love truly. All this time, the person that was it from the start was right in front of your faces, but pent up denial never allowed it to happen.

Until now.

Somewhere, somehow, this was the universe’s way of telling you that today was that day. You woke up late, wore his sweater, and Chan had slipped up with his thoughts aloud. It made sense.

So, you took a small step forward.

It felt as if the gravity between your feet and floor was much heavier than before, especially watching Chan’s jaw clench out of nervousness, but you knew it was just you mustering up a ton of courage to finally ask,

“Who’s stopping you from asking?”

#stray kids #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #bang chan #bang chan fluff #christopher bang #bang chan x reader #bang chan x fem reader #bang chan x reader fluff #chan x reader fluff #chan x reader #chris bang fluff

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

Text

(Clone Wars) Echo x Reader: Gone Part 2

(Author’s Note: This second part was also scrapped, but here we are. This one made me tear up. Come share in my pain.

-You and Echo are reunited after he is recovered from the Separatists-

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death. Kissy kissy

Word Count: 1,058).

Link to Part 1

“I love you.”

Something shifted as you locked eyes with him. The man who had stood before you so damaged and uncertain moments ago was suddenly gazing at you with a familiar glint. It was a spark you’d seen many times before a long while ago. He wasn’t staring past you as if you were invisible, he was looking at you as if you were the only thing he could see in that moment.

And just like that, your bodies found each other. Your arms went around his torso, crushing yourself against him like there was no tomorrow. He responded instantly and clasped his hand over your back to hold you. You didn’t pay any mind to the robotic arm that wound around your form or how your fingers were met with smooth skin instead when they automatically sought to tangle themselves in his hair. All you could feel was your Echo holding you again- something you’d longed for but could only dream about. Something you thought you’d never get to experience again.

When your mouths collided in a passionate kiss, your legs nearly gave out. He felt you stumble a bit, and gently steered the two of you so that your back was against the wall. You drank him in; his scent, his fingertips as they brushed over the skin of your arm and caused goosebumps to bloom, and the way his lips met yours over and over.

“I missed you,” he whispered, inhaling your scent at the base of your neck. You pulled away to gaze at him with watery eyes.

“I missed you too, Echo.”

“I’m sorry I kept my distance before. I wasn’t sure if...if you still wanted this. Me.” You lifted a hand to cup his cheek, brushing your palm along the stubble of his jaw as he continued. “I know I’m different now. I was worried you found my appearance...unsettling. I’m still worried, really,” he confessed, the confidence in his demeanor faltering as his eyes fell from yours.

“Let me put your worries to rest,” you murmured, guiding his face back up to yours. You didn’t break eye contact as you took his hand in yours and raised it to your lips. You kissed his knuckles tenderly before leaning up to pressing an equally-gentle kiss to his cheek, and then his jaw. His chest swelled as he got lost in the moment, and his confidence resurfaced. Before long, he was already peppering your face with kisses in return.

You smiled as his hand reached up to brush along your cheek. Both of you got comfortable on his bunk, with him laying flat on his back and you curled up against his side, resting your head on his shoulder as the minutes turned into hours. Echo traced patterns on the skin of your arm that your short sleeves left exposed. Despite the soothing action, you felt a pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Something dawned on you in that quiet time with him, and the thought of telling him and running the risk of ruining the moment distressed you. On the other hand, the thought of not telling him and letting the guilt grow made you feel physically ill.

Hot tears began to spill down your cheeks, and Echo noticed your sniffle.

“__________?” he asked quietly, his hand stopping the idle tracing to rest near your elbow. “Are you alright?”

The utter softness and concern in his voice was what sent you over the edge. A sob choked its way out, and you quickly buried your face in your hands as the guilt clawed at you.

“__________, what’s wrong?” His tone was more urgent that time.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you blubbered. “But I’m afraid. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t keep it a secret.”

He took hold of your hand and pulled it from your face carefully to look you in the eye. “You can tell me anything.” The sincerity of his statement weighed down on you even more, but you swallowed another sob and did your best to reply calmly.

“Many months after the Citadel, after they told me you were gone,” you sniffled. “Fives and I….”

Echo’s expression shifted in understanding, eyes softening. You thought you saw hurt in them, and it brought on more tears.

“I’m sorry.” You wiped some away before they reached the shoulder of his blacks. Echo stared at the ceiling for a few, brows furrowing. He didn’t say a word, and you decided it was best to let him speak when he was ready- even though the silence was killing you.

“Did you love him?”

The question was firm, though not demanding or angry in any way. It took you a moment to process what he was asking. Finally, you breathed out an inaudible sigh.

“Yes.”

Echo still didn’t look at you, though he seemed satisfied with the answer. “And did he look after you?”

Precious memories flooded you. Memories of you and Fives holding each other, offering comfort in light of your missing friend- who at the time everyone thought was gone for good. You recalled the kisses, the promises, the laughs. Your eyes squeezed shut at the ache.

“Until the very end.”

That’s when Echo finally looked at you again.

“And you lost us both.” His arm slid out from under your cheek as he propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you. Pain and sympathy swirled around in those brown eyes. He leaned in to rest his forehead against yours, breath fanning your face. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”

The tears kept falling. You couldn’t find the will to stop them. Old wounds had been reopened by bittersweet reflection. Another whimper escaped your lips, and you reached up to drape your arm over the back of his neck, drawing him in. Echo leaned the rest of the way to capture you in a kiss. With hearts heavy, your lips met again and again, kisses becoming needier as both of you sought to drown everything else out. It wasn’t long before you were fixated on the moment. All you could think about was how your heart thrummed in anticipation of each time his lips found yours.

He paused to whisper against your cheek. “It’s okay, _________. I’m here.”

#clone wars #clone wars echo #clone wars echo x reader #mentions of fives x reader #clone wars x reader #clone wars imagine #clone wars reader insert #echo reader insert #echo x reader #bad batch echo x reader #echo

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

if we had 5 more minutes — f. w.

Summary: You thought you could save Fred from the rumbles of falling stones; you did your best, only to be in the rumbles with him instead.

Words: 2,160 words

Warnings ⚠ : ANGST, TW: Death, TW: Battle of Hogwarts, TW: war, TW: injuries, Fred died, you died, big Pain™, I strongly suggest tissues and a dozen of comfort chocolates, I cried so you will too, Basically An Emotional Rollercoaster, Read At Your Own Risk

Disclaimer: inspired by Billie Eilish's cover of The End of The World, so... ya'll know this is going to be a painful ride. Buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated! <3 p/s: reading this with the song at the background really helps with the tear pouring effect ;)

Disclaimer 2.0: i know what yall are thinking... what tf is syaf doing, posting a fic when she’s in a hiatus she just posted yesterday? Also where is mad hatter chap 5 and epilogue? well, my brain likes to conjure up ideas at very inappropriate times (like rn) so bare with me and uh i’ve been really physically and mentally exhausted from work (retail is bathshit crazy) to write the mad hatter series so idk when will i update the two chapters but i’m working on it! thank you for being patient, and im sorry for causing you guys to wait for so long, ilysm don’t kill me <3

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The end of the world.

The Battle of Hogwarts looked like the end of the world. Curses and spells thrown left to right, different kinds of bodies found at each corner and crook, walls here and there crumbling as down as hope for freedom. And blood.

At that point of time, the pools of blood on the floor look the same; pureblood or not. Because they bleed the same anguish red.

You didn't need to see the apocalypse of the world anymore. Screw the end of Mother Earth; this battle in front of your eyes was more than enough — sadly — to be your end of the world.

“Hey,” You called, causing Fred to turn his head around to your direction, his lips etched up a smile before replying with another hey. You sat next to him, the place where George had sat before he got up and left to speak with Professor Lupin.

Evil is winning, and good is losing. But then again, what difference would it make; if good kills as many as evil? At the end of the world, there is no good and evil alone. There are desperation, madness, and hunger for power, lust for victory brought along with them.

So, at the end of the world, you chose to be side by side with your lover, Fred Weasley. The red-headed dork you’ve taught yourself to pour your love into had become the very source of your life. He is your elixir, he is your soul, heart, and happiness.

It was silent for a while, none of you had anything to say. Yet the silence was comforting, with only the presence of each other as calming as it is. “Y/N,” Fred suddenly turned his head to you, biting his lower lip in contemplation. “Hm?” “Can you just stay at the Burrow?”

You blinked, “What?” Fred sighed, “Can you just stay at the Burrow right now and not join the war? I- I don’t want you to join in-” “Fred-” “I-It’s dangerous and it’s literally a war a-and I don’t want you to get hurt I would- I would rather die than have you hurt-”

“Fred!” You raised your voice, your hand clasping onto his securely, an effort to calm his frenzied thoughts. He stopped rambling and stared at you with those doe eyes you adored so much, “You know I can’t do that.”

“We need everyone on board for this war. I am no exception- bloody hell, even your parents are joining in, Freddie!” You tried to explain slowly, and Fred closed his eyes in denial of defeat.

“I love you,” he suddenly blurted out. He noticed the slight fluster you had, your eyebrows were raised for a millisecond before they furrowed upon a realization, “Wait, why are you saying this now? I-“ “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated himself and you shook your head, realizing what he was doing, “Wait, hold on a minute, no-“

He was saying it in case anything happens.

“Y/N, I love you-” “Don’t you dare say it one more time like you’re not gonna make it, Fred Weasley, I swear to Merlin,” You cut him off, your jaw clenching at his absurdness. “… Aren’t you gonna say it back?” Fred asked, his voice was small.

“I-” You sighed, “No, I won’t because I don’t want to say it right now, given the circumstances,” You paused, your voice quieting down, “It felt like a goodbye when you say it like that.” “Then when will you say it? We’ve been dating for almost a year and you'd never say it before,” He said.

“Really? This is the time to argue about this?” You gave him a pointed look, but your expression softened as you understood the meaning behind his actions. “Look, Freddie, I- You know how I feel about us,” You sighed, looking down at your hands on your lap, “You know I’m not that expressive with my words but- but I’m trying and- okay, let’s make a deal,” Fred’s ears perked up the mention of a deal. "I'm listening," he drawled.

“I’ll say the words when the war is over,” Fred gave you a sour look that clearly said ‘really?’ and it caused you to huff a smile, “Once everything is over, and everything is okay again, I’ll say them as many times as you want me to, okay?” Fred leaned into your touch as you cupped his cheek with your hand, kissing his forehead.

“Even if I made you say it a thousand times?” He asked and you chuckled, your heart warming at his childlike question, “I’ll say it for an hour if you asked me to.”

It happened so fast.

One second you were fighting off the Death Eaters with Percy and Fred, and then the other, you find your body aching at the major pressure from the rocks and debris that used to be Hogwarts’ protective wall from the outside world.

It was dark, and it was dusty, but you were too unconscious to notice. That was until you felt your cheek being patted a few times. As you gained consciousness with a cough or two, you also gained the pending pain spreading all across your whole body. You couldn’t feel your legs, or safe to say your whole lower body part.

Memories of you a few moments ago trying to push Fred away from the rumbles but ended up facing the falling stones head-on with him instead began to flow back into your mind. How foolish could you be to act like a hero, as if you could sacrifice yourself for him to live.

“… Y-Y/N…”

You turned your head with a silent grunt, and your eyes fixate at the body beside you, a few feet away, Fred.

He had blood leaking from his nose and ears, probably from the impact, and his face was dusty with debris from the stones. As he looked at you, he threw you a smile; a weak, hiding the fact that he’s in immense pain kind of smile.

“F-fancy seeing you here,” he grunted with a wince, a smile nevertheless rested on his lips. “Fred…” you could only mutter his name, closing your eyes for a brief second at the growing pain on your thighs. The pressure from the rumbles had slowly increased, and you felt yourself losing consciousness again. Only to be brought back to open your eyes as Fred poked your cheeks a few more times, “Hey, hey, s-stay with me, love.”

“We’ll… We’ll be okay.”

You winced at the trickling sensation on your skin as you tried to move your fingers towards him, “It’s… It’s impossible, Fred…” You voiced out, your voice cracking up. You saw Fred’s lips quivered before he threw you another comforting smile, “Don’t… Don’t say that. We’ll make it… I-I know we will.”

“We… We will?”

Groaning from the injuries on his body as he tried to move closer to you, he nodded, “We will.”

You felt his fingers trying to reach for yours, and you handed him assistance as you hooked your fingers with his. His hand was cold, trembling. But it was Fred’s. And Fred’s hand is always warm.

“It’s… It’s so heavy,” You whimpered in pain, looking at Fred for comfort. All Fred wished to do at the moment was to be strong enough. Strong enough to push off these rumbles pressing onto his body. Strong enough to pull you out from the pain. All he wished for was for you to not be in pain anymore. But he knew he couldn’t do anything. The rumbles were too big, too heavy, and it would take a while for anyone to find them at the bottom of everything.

Fred breathed out heavily through his mouth, slowly finding it difficult to breathe through his nose anymore, trying his best to look strong for you, “Stay with me, love. S-stay with me. Five more minutes. F-five more minutes and they’ll- they’ll save us…”

“Fred…”

“Five more minutes, I promise…”

You saw the desperation in his eyes, trying his best to somehow keep you afloat until you two are saved. You heard muffles from the other side, Percy screaming for Fred and you. His screams were sad and painful to hear; you would’ve cried for him if it wasn’t for the constant high-pitched ringing in your ears.

“Fred, h-hold my hand. P-please,” You whispered, finding no more strength to say anything louder than a whisper. He instantly intertwined your fingers with his, stretching as far as he could to reach you; no matter how screeching the pain in his lower body was.

“Fred,” You called him again. He chuckled a bit, “You’re… you’re saying my name a lot of times right now, darling.” You huffed a smile, the corner of your lips twitched, “… I want to ask you something.”

“… Anything.”

Your eyes met his, even in the darkness, his eyes still managed to look so beautiful. So earthly beautiful. “… Are you happy, Freddie?”

There was something about the way you say it, Fred couldn’t get a touch of what it was but… it felt like a goodbye. As much as Fred hated to admit, he wasn’t holding on much longer either. He was bleeding heavily from everywhere, his wand was out of his reach, and his body was starting to numb. His vision began to blur by itself, hence he blinked his eyes repeatedly. Trying his best to see your features clearly, one last time, if the worst happens.

This is it, he thought. This is the end of my line.

Finding an urge to cry, but didn’t have enough strength to sob, Fred let out a tear or two onto the dusty surface he laid his head on, his eyes closing after the content stare of your beautiful— though bloody and dusty— face. How ironic, he’s slipping away first even though he was the one who said five more minutes.

If only you had five more minutes.

“W-with… With you? Heh, always… “ The whisper coming out from his mouth caused you to narrow your eyes at him. It felt strange, it felt wrong. Was he saying goodbye? Watching Fred close his eyes was alarming, so you gained all your strength to pat his hand a few times, “H-hey, Freddie… Five more minutes. Hang… Hang on for five more minutes, please.”

You squeezed his hand, and he naturally squeezed back, only this time it was weaker than usual. His grip on your hand started to soften, but you tightened yours desperately. The pain all over your body was partially forgotten, your only focus was on keeping Fred breathing and alive, as well as yourself.

“I’m… I’m trying, my love… but I’m sleepy… and tired…” he mumbled, his words became slurred by time. He was on the edge, you realized that. Upon the sad realization, you bit your tongue, trying your best to prepare for the worst. “L-look at me, darling,” Your voice quivered, feeling the sandy surface on your temple as you tried to force your eyes open, to properly look at him, “Look at me.”

You knew it. He was slipping away from your fingers, and you were slipping too. It didn’t matter anymore even if Percy bulldozed his way to you now, it was too late. Simply too late. And that’s none of his faults. It’s none of his and none of yours.

Some things are just meant to be.

You took your other hand and placed it onto his cold, dirty cheek. Caressing his cheekbone gently, you gave him a comforting smile, “Fred.”

He looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. He’s at the end, you acknowledged. You widen your smile to assure him, although the tears escaping your eyes say otherwise, “… You make me happy. You make me so so happy. And I… I love you.”

“I love you, Freddie.”

With a big smile, Fred widened his eyes weakly, letting out a sigh of content as he looked at you with gentle eyes,“… Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?“

Gentle eyes that soon hollowed empty.

“Yeah,” the dam of your tears broke down, “Took me a long time...” You squeezed his now lifeless hand, trying to find comfort and warmth from him for the last time. You smiled at Fred, whilst tears rolling down your temple slowly as if mourning the passing of your lover for you. You inched closer to him, careful not to graze your injuries, and met your nose with his.

You caressed his cheek, finally feeling yourself lose consciousness. This is it, you thought, I won’t wake up ever again. “You said we’ll be okay,” You whispered weakly, huffing a content smile on your lips. Staring into his eyes that had held so much love and pure unadulterated affection for you all these years, now empty with no trace of life, had sent you into pain more powerful than the injuries present on and in your body.

“I guess we will be, after this.”

“… You spent your last five minutes with me, huh?” You felt yourself going in and out of consciousness, and your vision blurring continuously, “Aren’t you a sappy git,” the mere whisper escaped your mouth with a sigh. The warm smile never left your lips, and the only thing in your mind was how peaceful he looked as of that moment, and you wondered if you’ll ever be in that state of peace, with him.

“No- no- no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! no!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them with his hand on Y/N’s head, and the pair of lovers stared at each other without seeing, the ghost of their last smile still etched upon their faces.

On our last few drags of air, we agree

I was, and you were

Happy

TAGLIST:

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasley #frederick gideon weasley

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gojo-x-reader · 3 years

Text

Confessions in a Drunken Night

Relationship(s): Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of sex (not related to drinking), getting drunk, job stress

Tags: communication is key

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~2k

Request: “ Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I have read your scenarios and I fell in love with them They are so cute and adorable . If you take a request would you mind taking mine. About a f/reader who is depressed about her job pressure and Gojo not being home lately so she would be drinking at home not knowing that Gojo had arrived and was sleeping and he would wake up because of sound and he would find her saoul , and he would try to make up with her , with a lot of fluff please , thank you .”

You heard the door hurriedly slam from the other room and sighed. This was the third time just this week alone that date night was interrupted with you and your boyfriend, Satoru. Every time, he promised that nothing would come up, but every time something did. You didn’t understand why exactly his job was so important for him to just leave like that. He was just a high school teacher.

You sighed again, then picked up the uneaten dinner you cooked for the both of you. You placed the food in containers for later, if there was a later with him. You might end up eating both portions by yourself. You finished up cleaning up the romantic date you had prepared, now incredibly sad and frustrated.

You started pouring yourself a glass of whiskey. You weren’t a fan of the stuff straight, but tonight seemed like the night to drink. How many hours of overtime did you put in this week just to try to have an evening off to spend with your boyfriend? How much sleep did you lose just to stay ahead? How many times did your boss scoff because you asked off not one night, but three nights this week? You’d be lucky if you could get another night off in a month after this week.

You sipped on the whiskey, cherishing the warmth it brought to your core. You grabbed the bottle and glass and took them the to couch. The whiskey bottle was less than halfway finished; might as well finish it tonight. You lounged on the couch as you brought the glass to your lips and reminisced about your relationship with Satoru.

You had been together for over a year now, but it didn’t feel like it. You were practically in a long-distance relationship, despite only living twenty minutes from each other with how scarce you got to see him. He was always busy on “business trips” or whatever for his job. The thought that he was cheating on you crossed your mind a time or two, but Satoru didn’t seem like the type.

The two of you met in your favorite bakery just down the street. You had fought over the last piece of tiramisu, which he eventually gave you in exchange for your number. He was incredibly easy to talk to and within a few weeks, the two of you were going on your first date. He was suave, but you soon learned that was just a front he put up. The true Gojo Satoru was a dork with an almost insufferable personality that somehow you were able to stand.

You were sure that in the year you had been dating, you had only gone on three successful dates with Satoru and well over fifteen attempted dates. The three successful dates all had a special place in your heart.

The first successful date was your first date. It was a cozy café date followed by a nice walk through the nooks and crannies of Tokyo you never saw on your work commute. You remembered how you gained the confidence to hold Satoru’s hand on the first date, only feeling like there was a literal wall between you two for a few seconds. It was strange, but it was the only incident, so you never brought it up to him.

The second successful date was a few months later with another failed attempt in between the first and second. This one was a trip to a fancy restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. This was the date you learned that your boyfriend was loaded. Not just well off, but rich enough he could spend a couple hundred thousand Yen and it was just pocket change to him. Somehow, the reveal left more questions than answered them; namely, how did he become so rich with a teacher’s salary? Was he part of some kind of Old Money or something?

He never told you where you were dining, so of course, you dressed like it was a casual outing. Before heading to the restaurant, he bought you a dress that was worth more than two years of your yearly salary (against your protests). It was a gorgeous dress, in your favorite color. It still hung in your closet; while you wanted to sell it for some extra money, you didn’t want to upset Satoru.

The third and final successful date was your first anniversary. Neither of you wanted to go out, so you both stayed in. The two of you cooked dinner together; you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Satoru had a talent for cooking and wanted to taste more of his cooking. He insisted you were a much better cook than him, but you disagreed.

After dinner, one thing led to another until you were swept off your feet literally to the bedroom.

You smiled fondly at the memories of your first time together. It was only two months ago, but nothing had happened since then even though you desperately wanted a repeat of your anniversary tonight. Ah, you remembered why you were drinking. You swallowed the rest of the whiskey in your glass, grimacing as it burned in your throat.

You were already tipsy after one glass. You were a lightweight; you were sure you would be shit-faced before the end of this bottle. Satoru never drank, yet he always had the audacity to make fun of how much of a lightweight you were.

Who knows how long passed before you finally swallowed the last drop of whiskey. At that point, you were fighting your eyelids that were trying to close. Without Satoru there to entertain you as you were tipsy, you became a tired drunk. You just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to leave the couch. If you got up, you’d probably stumble and fall back anyway. So, you grabbed the blanket draped across the couch and wrapped yourself around it.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over you right as you closed your eyes. You missed Satoru, desperately. It felt physically painful being away from him at the moment. You brought a hand up to your eyes and wiped them, rolling over and finally going to sleep for good.

You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your form. You groaned. Your head was pounding from dehydration, you were still sleepy from the alcohol; who dared interrupt your sleep?

You blinked a few times to find Satoru and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. He appeared slightly worried, but also tired.

“Time?” you asked, not even forming coherent sentences yet.

“Almost 3am,” Satoru answered.

You groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“How much did you drink?”

“Does it matter?” you snapped back. You then realized how hostile you sounded, then started crying. “Please don’t be mad at me,” you said between hiccups.

Satoru took you into his arms, soothingly rubbing your back to calm you down. You suddenly felt worse because you were a mess, just because he left for an emergency with work? Pathetic.

Your sweet, incredible boyfriend helped you slowly sit up, then obtained a glass of water for you to drink. You chugged it, not even realizing how thirsty you were. Satoru refilled it for you, urging you to instead sip the water.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asked as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“...Nothing,” you answered.

“Nothing? I come home to find my girlfriend passed out on the couch drunk off her ass and sad. You’re upset, and I want us to work through this. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” you admitted.

“Obviously.”

“I don’t feel like you--” hic “--love me as much anymore. You keep leaving during our dates, you don’t spend much time with me anymore, and my job is just so stressful because I keep having to work overtime to get days off and I doubt I can get another day off for a month now. That just makes me so fucking sad because I wanna see you every day but I can’t--”

Satoru gently placed a hand on your cheek. His gaze was filled with so much love it rendered you speechless. “That all?” he asked. You nodded.

Satoru tenderly placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” he admitted. Suddenly, your brain raced through all of the possibilities, fixating on the idea he was cheating on you. Oh, no, here it comes…

“I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

“Excuse me?”

That was not at all what you were expecting. What did that even mean?

Satoru backed away. “Here, try to grab my hand.”

You reached out to him, feeling the familiar wall like you did on your first date. “Oh!”

“This is Infinity,” he explained. “As you get closer to me, you slow down, unable to reach me. It’s a jujutsu passed down through my family.”

“I think I’ve felt it before. On our first date.”

Satoru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I always keep my Infinity going at all times, 24/7, even when I’m asleep. I only let down my guard around you because I trust you with my life.”

“So. What does this all mean? What else are you keeping a secret? Your job too?”

“No, I really am a high school teacher. For the first years, to be exact. The bunch this year are… interesting to say the least. So I’ve been having to stay late to train them, and I actually do go on business trips. A lot of them are overseas.”

“What are they for?” You were now very invested in your boyfriend’s secret life he had been hiding from you all this time.

“We exorcise curses.”

“Curses?”

“The evil beings of the jujutsu world. I have to go on more missions than the average person because I’m one of the very few Special Grade jujutsu sorcerers in the world. It’s the highest rank a jujutsu sorcerer can reach. And your boyfriend is the strongest in the world.”

“Are you really, or are you self-proclaimed?” you asked, knowing his personality. Satoru pouted. You pinched one of his cheeks gently, then dragged his face to your lips, pressing them against his cheek. “I’m just kidding.”

“I really am the strongest, though,” Satoru continued to pout. “Anyway! I think it’s time for us to sleep. Tomorrow, I can take you to see my school and you can meet my students!”

“Really?” you asked, excited. Finally, your boyfriend was allowing you into the part of his world you were always curious about.

“Really,” he promised.

You yawned. The sun was just starting to peek through your windows. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to your room. You weren’t quite sober and made sure to warn Satoru about that, lest he moved you too fast and caused you to throw up on the two of you.

(“It wouldn’t get on me, though,” Satoru argued. “I can just activate my Infinity and I’ll stay clean.”)

Satoru tucked you into your bed, then made his way to your side. You were actually kind of glad you decided to get drunk tonight, as the liquid courage gave you the confidence to speak your mind to your boyfriend instead of keeping your feelings inside like usual. Tonight, you learned a side of your boyfriend you never thought existed. It brought you relief and curiosity to learn more about him and his life.

But for now, you needed sleep. Meeting part of Satoru’s world could wait until tomorrow.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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elias-code · 3 years

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Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice II

Choose your own adventure ~ “What’s Better than Breakfast in Bed?“

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza

Summary: You've asked Techno whether he wants to sleep with you or not, and he makes up some excuse to join you. He cuddles with you into the night, but you're greeted with a nightmare, Dream's voice warns you of something to come, but refuses to specify what. Techno pulls you out of the dream and you sleep undisturbed until he greets you with breakfast in the morning.

Warnings: Cussing, Nightmares

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO

— The Bird —

"Techno-" I said, kneeling to his level, "What do you want? I mean, you can sleep with me if you want to."

He paused, expecting a quip, but instead, I'd forced him to choose for himself.

"Seeing as you’re already cold, even with the fire..." He clicked his tongue, testing his words, "I want to keep you warm."

Holy shit that's adorable, I thought. Techno never let emotions shine through his words. When I talked to him, I had to constantly read between the lines. His monotone speech was, I supposed, a product of his repressed emotions. Ever since meeting him, I felt like it was my responsibility to dismantle the fortress he’d put around his heart.

"Excuses, excuses," I teased, “but you’re right, I’m gonna freeze without you.” I smiled at him. He let out a small huff, but his expression was unreadable.

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason," he said, turning to me, "They're desperate for me to be at the banquet, but they won't let me go alone, alright? If I let you freeze to death, it wouldn't make for great PR."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, standing up. I offered a hand to him, to help him stand, "Thank you for not killing me so you don't have to go," I whispered.

"No problem, heh," he took my hand and stood, "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just downstairs, get ready for bed," He said, dodging the question. He let go of my hand and awkwardly pat me on the head, leaving the room.

I didn't know how the ball was going to work out. On the one hand, Techno would go to the banquet and it'd be as awkward as it's always been between us. On the other, I'd manage to tear down his walls and reveal his emotions, changing our relationship forever.

Techno presented himself as untouchable, calling himself 'the blood god,' but I saw him hold back tears when Tommy betrayed him. I saw the destruction his wrath brought upon L'Manburg. He has compassion, but if he bottled them up any longer, there's no telling who he'd become. He couldn't keep letting everything out as anger, or we'd all pay the price.

I dressed for the night, setting his cape on the back of his chair. I chose a simple shirt and pants, the thickest ones I'd brought with me. I was still cold, but I took the opportunity to inspect his room.

He lives in the attic, a small loft with sparse decoration. What little furniture he did have was extravagant and of the highest quality. His desk chair was made of dark oak wood, the velvet red cushion was well worn. The table matched, a knife was stuck in it, too hard for me to pull out. It was dull, probably used to open letters.

His bed was made, probably just before I got there since it was only roughly put together. Next to it, there was a giant bookshelf pushed against the wall. Most of the books were unmarked and dusty, but a few of them were clean, recently put back. The Art of War, Odyssey, and the Iliad were among them. Their spines were worn and multiple bookmarks were sticking out of the top of each.

"Do you read much?" Techno asked, startling me.

"Um, oh," I stuttered, "I don't know where to get books from, so..."

"No?" He reached over and pulled The Art of War out of the bookshelf.

"I live out in the middle of nowhere," I shrugged, "The only thing I read is my mail."

"That's pretty sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I have plenty of things to occupy my time with, Technoblade," I crossed my arms.

"Mhm," he handed me the book. Its cover was more worn than its spine, the old leather was cracking at the corners. "Take that home with you, I've read it a thousand times. Might come in handy."

"I suppose I can use it to knock intruders out," I flipped it over. It was like a brick in my hand, heavy and hard enough to break a window. "Thanks."

I yawned, realising how late it's gotten. I left my house almost a full twenty-four hours ago and I rode endlessly until I got here. I was exhausted.

I walked over to my pile of stuff and carefully placed the book in my bag. I then took a bit of a running start and jumped onto the bed, landing in a pile of furs and knitted blankets. "Don't wake me up in the morning," I muttered.

Techno came over and sat on the bed next to me. "I'll try not to," He said.

I shuffled under the blankets and shivered. The furs were enough to keep my body heat in, but I wouldn't tell Techno that. I heard him pick the covers up to join me. Soon, I felt his arms wrap around me, his chest to my back.

My cheeks flushed bright pink and I stifled a giggle. The blood god is snuggling with me... This is not what I thought was going to happen when I joined the server. I smiled and put my hand on his, wrapped around my waist. No one was going to believe this ever happened.

--- The Bird's Dream ---

He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way, I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him, as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.

“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”

“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”

“If only they knew. Tsk.”

Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.

“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” Dream's voice boomed, echoing in my mind.

"Who are you?" I tried to yell, but only air came out.

"I'm the one who whitelisted you, the one who trusted you."

"What does that mean?" I was desperate to stop, to wake up, but I was falling infinitely.

"That's not for you to know, Puppet. You're here because I have a job for you, nothing more. You're the only one that can get through to him."

"What- What's my job? Why am I here?"

"You'll know soon enough-"

--- Technoblade ---

I slept soundly until I felt them stir under me. It sounded like they were having a nightmare, they muttered my name. What the hell are they dreaming about? I pulled them closer, brushing my hand through their hair. I wanted to wake them softly, so they'd forget about whatever was just racing through their mind.

They took a deep breath, signalling their waking. I continued to stroke their hair, "You ok, Bird?"

They mumbled an 'ok' and turned to face me, burying their face in my neck. I did the same and took deep breaths for them to follow. Within minutes, they were asleep in my arms. It felt right.

I didn't have the heart to admit it. If I did, I'd just have to tear it all away again, I'd be the one thing I truly hated. I'd be a traitor.

Don't get attached, Techno. We get to break hearts now, not just crush them! If you name this one, you'll regret it. Nothing screams ruin more than you do.

I woke up to birds chirping outside my window. The weather had finally let up, now I could finally get real work done. It took me a couple of seconds to remember the person fast asleep in my arms. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it.

Carefully, I picked up the covers and snuck out of bed. I wanted to keep my promise not to wake them up, and so I immediately left the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards as I descended the stairs to the kitchen.

I pulled half a dozen eggs out of their box and cracked and cooked them over the fire, adding the occasional spice so it wasn't too bland. I toasted some bread and stuck it all on separate plates. Four eggs for me, two for them. I was two times their size, after all. The image of them laying on my bed flashed in my mind, making me smile. I shook it off. I couldn't get attached any more than I was now.

I pulled myself together and went back upstairs with the food. I put my plate on my desk, pulling the knife out of it and stashing it in my drawer. I walked over to the bed, placing their food on the nightstand. I reached over and gently pat them on the head, slowly waking them.

"Good morning," I whispered.

They opened their eyes and mumbled "G'morn'n,"

"I made you some eggs," I said, still petting their head, "You should eat them while they're hot,"

"Ok," they sat up and I moved back over to my desk, sitting in my chair.

They yawned and stretched, their shirt raising over their waist, exposing their belly button. I looked away and busied myself with my food.

Oh, look at them, they're so cute... so naive... so vulnerable.

I wanted to scream at the voices to shut up. They had been plaguing me ever since Phil suggested I invite them. For some reason, they had a vendetta against the bird. They wanted to see them suffer to, in turn, make me suffer. The voice's presence itself was enough to turn my hair grey, but this added a whole extra layer to my agony.

"Techno?"

"Hmm?" I didn't look up from my food.

"Did you make me breakfast in bed?"

I looked at them, hiding my embarrassment, "You told me not to wake you, but I was hungry, and I thought you'd like some too."

They blushed and shrugged. "You know me so well," they sighed.

"And I thought you'd appreciate the origin of the eggs," I added.

"Oh, and where are they from?" Their mouth was full, making them mumble a bit. They looked a bit scared.

"Well," I leaned towards them in my chair, "They're from The egg."

"Bullshit," they called, stuffing their face with more eggs. Maybe I should have given them more.

I laughed, genuinely, "They're just chicken eggs, I doubt the egg would taste very good,"

We ate and joked like nothing was wrong in the world. They were so good at making me feel at home, but the voices were eager to remind me of my past. I wouldn't let them spoil this. What we had was new to me, and I wouldn't just lay down and take the voices at their word. Gods know they aren't worth their weight.

— Philza —

“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin.

The bird smiled at me from the breakfast bar, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.

“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was neatly braided and they were both already dressed.

"How was your morning?"

"Techno made me breakfast!" They laughed. That was a surprise, he didn't even cook for me.

"Ooh, nice," I said, "What's better than breakfast in bed, eh?"

"Riches beyond your wildest dreams," Techno chuckled. I guess they were both in a good mood this morning.

“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.

“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.

“What’s the dress code?”

“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”

They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flow-y things were not as easy.

/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION, BRRRRR ///

Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)

Dress

Tux-dress

Tuxedo

#technoblade x reader #techno x reader #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #dreamxd #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader #philza #elias original #two left hooves

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hard-to-be-the-bard · 3 years

Text

Prince Nuada X Autistic Reader

again gonna be based on the AU where he works for the BPRD :) also because obviously autism is a huge scale, i’m just basing it off my own experiences, so sorry if it isn’t what you wanted but let me know if you want me to change it :)

- You were friends with Red, Abe and Liz

- Nuada had seen you with them multiple times

- But whenever you saw him you’d avoid his gaze, muttering to your friends and leaving the room

- He was under the impression you disliked him, but for what reason, he’d never been rude to you?

- So he decided to talk to Red about it

- Who had given him a raised brow and a sigh

- “Look, y/n doesn’t hate you, she has autism” He starts and Nuada frowns

- “Autism? What’s that?” He asks, and Red scratches his forehead

- “Well it’s hard to classify under one vague description, but it’s a sort of communication and social disorder” He starts

- “There are different types, it’s a spectrum so everyone with a diagnosis has different symptoms” He says, and Nuada nods

- “So what makes hers different” He asks, and Red shrugs

- “She doesn’t like meeting new people, puts her on edge, too many social expectations I believe, she doesn’t like handshakes, or people touching her, unless of course she touches you first, then you know it’s ok, what else, oh yea, bright lights, she’s light sensitive” He gestures the brightly lit room. “Which isn’t particularly best being here and all, she also has hyperfixations” He says, and Nuada frowns

- “Hyper fixation? What are those” He asks, and Red explains

- “A special interest, something she’s currently interested, it can change of course, and she can have multiple sometimes, but at the moment it’s mushroom species” He says, and then looks curiously at him

- “But why do you want to know” He asks, and Nuada shrugs

- “I want to get to know her” He says simply, and Red watches him

- “Well, she’ll talk to anybody about her fixations, so why don’t you start a conversation about mushrooms” He suggests, and Nuada nods, thanking him before leaving

- Two days later he’d found you sitting at a desk, book in hand, he noticed the title from afar. Fungi, he smiled. Before walking closer, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you, and your head shot up, looking at the man who was sitting across from you

- He gestures to your book

- “I see you’re interested in mushrooms” He offers, and you nod slowly, not sure why he’s sitting near you. But he keeps on talking

- “Did you know a single Portabella mushroom can contain more potassium than a banana?” He asks, and your interest is peaked, a grin on your face as you nod.

- “Mhm, the French first started to popularise them in the 19th century, but before that the Egyptians and Greeks believed they’d provide energy during battle, and I suppose they were right because they would give them a lot more energy than some things they would of eaten in that era. But the Egyptians labelled them to be the plant of immortality and made it so commoners weren’t allowed to eat them-” You slowed down, looking up at Nuada, to see he was still paying attention and upon seeing he was you kept talking

- The conversation lasted a while, the two of you passing facts back and forth, Nuada even knowing some that you hadn’t

- Nuada on the other hand, was beaming at the conversation, he’d finally talked to you, and you’d enjoyed it, or so he thought, but from the way you smiled at him he had to be doing something right

- It was only now you’d realised you’d been talking for over three hours, and you bluntly pointed this out to him, and he glanced at the clock in the room

- “It appears you’re right” He says, and stands

- “Do you- want to come and get dinner with me?” He offers, you looked at the clock, it was late, meaning the hall wouldn’t be as busy as it usual, but still you looked uncertain, and Nuada noticed this

- “If it’s busy when we arrive we can always turn back” He offers, and you looked up at him, wondering why he offered, and it was at that moment you realised he knew, knew about the autism, and you frowned to yourself for a moment, you didn’t think elves knew about autism. Unless, unless he’d spoken to Red about it. But he’d only do that if he actually wanted to talk to you

- And why would he want to do that? You thought to yourself. And then you realise Nuada was still standing there, waiting for a response, and you nodded your head, following him towards the food hall

- When you got there it was relatively quiet, but he still looked at you for confirmation to go ahead, and when you nodded he smiled

- You were both sitting next to each other on the bench, making some light conversation, as you ate, and you heard the thumpy boots of Red, and you looked up and saw his surprised expression, Liz, Abe and Nuala following behind him, similar surprised expressions on their faces.

- He walked over, taking a seat on the other side of the table, smirking

- “Looks like you made a new friend there short fry” He joked, and you frowned

- “Fuck off” You blurted out before making an oop noise at the back of your throat, apologising and he laughed.

- “Don’t worry about it kiddo, it’s good to see you’re making friends, and you-” He turned to look at Nuada. “You do anything to upset her and I’ll curb stomp you” He says, and you laugh slightly.

- Nuada frowns, assuring him he wouldn’t, and Red nods, before standing back up

- “Well, I’ll leave you two to it” He smiles and you wave goodbye to him

- A few weeks later and you’re at Nuada’s side, the two of you closer now than before, practically never apart, if one of you was somewhere, the other wasn’t far behind.

- Nuada was fiercely protective of you, someone made a joke at your expense, they’d be threatened until they wished they could crawl into a corner and cry.

- You let him touch you now, which was a big step, he would do it firmly, not lightly, knowing it made your skin crawl, but there would be head pats and shoulder pats most days.

- If you were in a crowded area you’d move closer to Nuada, a hand balling in the fabric of his shirt and his arm would be around you quickly, finding the quickest route out of the situation

- The others had watched your relationship progress, they were surprised with how quickly you’d accepted him into your life. You still barely let Red touch you and you had known him for over a year

- But it was quickly becoming less platonic and more romantic. His gestures more softer, sweeter, caring, forehead kisses and hugs before leaving to your respective quarters

- And it was long before the two of you were sharing a quarter. Both of you preferring to start the day together, as well as ending it together

- And he eventually kissed you one day

- Making your relationship official

- Red had still threatened even if he knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Nuala was over the moon, her brother finally accepting humanity, when a few months ago he’d set to destroy them, he was now caring for one

- He was still in tune to your needs, he knew what you liked and disliked, any fabrics that caused you discomfort, smells you were adverse too, food that made your stomach crawl. He always seemed to know when something was wrong.

- He made your life a thousand times earlier, making sure you completed deadlines, handed in reports, took any medicine on time, ate properly

- It was easier to manage with him around

- And he wasn’t going away any time soon

#prince nuada #nuada x reader #nuada x s/o #nuada x you #nuada imagines #prince nuada x reader #prince nuada x you #prince nuada x s/o #prince nuada imagine #autistic reader #x autistic reader #nuada x autistic reader #prince nuada x autistic reader #hellboy x autistic reader #hellboy x reader

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