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creamypudding · 2 years

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Personal ailments

It has not been the best week. Not by a long-shot. And there isn’t a clear ending in sight just yet either. It all started the weekend before the one that just went. I was getting a really bad wax build up in both ears. But during a hair washing session on Sunday my left ear became totally blocked. I started digging at it and figured I could home-remedy this and use an over-the-counter wax dissolver and started using it on Monday. I then went to the drs office on the Thursday before going home, to have the doc inform me it wasn't soft enough to be flushed and I needed to let it sit for an hour minimum and come back next Monday to see him.

That was disappointing.

Thursday evening my partner came home saying he had a scratchy throat. We thought it's probably just him being overworked. I told him not to bother sleeping in the spare bedroom.

That night potato came to visit and I couldn't be bothered putting him back to his own bed, so I brought him into our bedroom.

The next morning, my partner woke up saying he was feeling hot. Sure enough, he had a fever. I moved out of the master bedroom with potato quicksmart, taking all the things I needed and bunkered down in potato's bedroom and put my other stuff in the main bathroom.

We still didn't think too much of my partners ailements, but we were a bit cautious with my partner isolating in the front of the house, between two different rooms, while I was in the back, in my home office that Friday. He started getting a headache and that's when shit became real. The PCR test came back positive Saturday morning.

I was supposed to get my 4th booster shot that Saturday but wasn't sure if I should still bother. Would it help? Make things worse? Did it matter? I went ahead anyway after checking with the pharmacist. I got Moderna. So far I've had three different ones and I gotta say Pfizer gave me the least (also read 'none') side effects. Moderna’s given me inflamed lymph nodes on my neck, but that's ok I guess. It might also have given me a fever and aches but as you will soon see, I cannot pinpoint an exact cause for reasons.

So, from Saturday morning onward I got in a groove of bringing my partner breakfast, lunch, and dinner as he self-isolated in the master bedroom, while I also juggled our small fry's demands and needs for attention. We started building a paper mache dinosaur which is still a work in progress - being up to the painting stage now. On Saturday evening, Potato was walking around the house, looking for me while I was having a shower, and he wandered into the Death Zone (the master bedroom). Then potato started coughing on Sunday. A real tiny dry cough that he's had in the past. I gave him some antihistamines and we went to bed for the night, although my ear was starting to get hellishly tender and painful over that weekend. I had been picking at the wax, which was coming out. I actually got my hearing back and thought I might not need to go back to the dr’s. But then all my work came undone and I couldn't hear anything anymore in my left ear, Sunday evening. I started running a low-grade temperature Sunday evening. I was fatigued and sore. I wasn’t sure if it was the vaccine, the ear, or heck, possibly even COVID. On top of all these things, my period also decided to finally come, so the aches and fatigue could even have been because of that. There were too many options to narrow down.

My ear was the worst thing, though. I was freaking out, wondering if I had overused the spray because the shell of my ear was feeling dry. So I used olive oil to soak my ear instead, after having done research on safe alternative methods to sprays and drops.

Monday morning came. Potato's cough got worse and he ran a fever. He got COVID and needed to definitely stay at home, even though I was feeling horribly sick and wanted nothing more than to send him away to get looked after by someone else. I thought maybe my olive oil thing had fucked me over even more. I couldn’t wait until the afternoon to see the previous weeks doc, so I hurried over there in the morning, before work started. The doc I saw finally flushed out my ear. He got the tiniest kernel of wax out because I did an awesome job of picking the rest out and my hearing came rushing back. I hadn't heard that clearly in... I don't recall. It suddenly became obvious how clogged my right ear was because it sounded dull on that side. The dr said that the wax expanding is probs what made my left ear sore, though it was probbaly all the picking I did at it that irritated the skin and infected it. He told me to come back on Wednesday so he could have a look to see if there was an infection, and flush out the right side if I soak it in the wax removal stuff for the next few days. I was happy. And this was just yesterday. I could hear. Yeah, my ear fucking caned, but I could hear. It was the best thing.

It was short-lived.

By evening my ear became mega painful and my hearing went again after I had washed my hair because it was manky AF. I swear, I avoided getting water in the left ear. Instead, I definitely know I got some in the right ear, which made my hearing worse on that side.

During the night, I start getting another fever and my ear was pulsing and throbbing and fuck me, did it hurt. I still couldn’t rule out COVID, but this seemed more of an ear related issue making me feel just awful. I wanted to get my right ear cleared out but with my left being useless the last thing I wanted was to soften the wax on the right side and have no hearing in both ears. So I didn’t spray my right ear, and I’m still considering not doing it until the left has been resolved.

As you can see, a lot was happening. Potato is sick. My partner is sick, though his COVID has been mild, and he’s basically over the symptoms now but is still testing positive, so he is staying put in the Death Zone until Thursday.

I’ve been having to single parent the shit out of the household while also doing my job, which was thankfully quiet on Monday. And I thought I could handle the team meeting I had coming up the following day, and maybe even see some clients, though I decided to cancel all face to face appointments I had booked in for Wednesday and Thursday, thinking I could pull off half-days working from home, and save some of my sick leave because who knows when COVID will strike me down. But I was so sick last night. Fever, ear ache, jaw pain, fatigue. I’ve been popping pain meds at night to give me enough respite to get me back to sleep. I woke up this morning with the fever gone. But I decided I would call in sick to work for that day. Potato was burning up. I took a home test for COVID, came up negative, and went out to get pain meds for my spud as what we had was expired. He did not like the flavour. -__- I decided I couldn’t live with this ear ache any longer and my right ear was also getting more waxy and hard to hear out of, so I went to the dr’s office again to demand I get some ear drops, while also planning on getting a different flavor of meds for the spud while I was at the other pharmacy.

I was driving, enjoying the peace and sunshine and music when everything really became overwhelming. Being the sole person to look after everything: cooking, cleaning, working, looking after a sick child, and having to tend to my partner, while I have my own pains and sickness going on, is hard. I started to cry. It was too much. Being away from home, away from needing to be ‘on’ gave me the breathing space to feel how ‘too much’ it all was. And the tears made my ears clog even more, which made me cry more.

I pulled myself together for a bit but ended up crying again at the drs as I was telling him I need medicine. It was great how little he knew how to handle someone crying, telling me that ‘life is hard’. Clearly, no training in how to talk to someone in distress. But I appreciated the offered tissues nonetheless.

I got medicine for myself as well as for the spud that he did actually swallow. My ear pain has reduced, even with two doses of the ear drops. And at worst I’m running a really low-grade fever occasionally. My hearing returned for a second a bit earlier today and I can feel stuff shifting in my ear, so there is hope it’s gonna get better and clear up quickly. But I also think my ear hole is closing up with swelling. I can’t even stick my pinky nail in there. But that will hopefully resolve soon. As long as the medication can still get in there it should be okay, right? After my cry, I decided I couldn’t be Super Woman and took the rest of the week off, which is also why I needed to get to the dr, so I could get a certificate.

It's been an absolute misery over here.

And it continues to be because I don't know if I can escape COVID. I feel a bit gross in the back of my throat now. There is a funky taste back there. Like I'm congested. But that could be discharge from my ear as well. I think it’s probably discharge. My eustachian tube is fucked. I’m sure that’s what’s making it feel like I’ve got a marble stuck between my jaw joint. It’s all swollen and feels and sounds crunchy when I chew or press on it. I may need to go back to the dr before the recommended 5 days and ask for oral medication. Or maybe massaging and heat packs will help, since that seems to ease up the tight ball enough for me to consume food. I did also just now find a handy video of massage techniques, which I think I’ll practice three times a day to go along with my medicinal application. I want my partner out of ISO. I want my spud to be well again, and soon. Can I avoid catching COVID? I’m walking around with a mask on, washing my hands after I touch the tray I serve my partner his meals on, or after I touch the spud to check his temperature. It will be a miracle if I manage to not catch it, especially as I have a small child who doesn't wear a mask (and when he does he doesn't put it over his nose) nor does he cover his coughs on any real consistent basis. I don’t want to get COVID, especially not while I’m battling this other shit. I don’t want to get it at all, and it’s the biggest stress because if I get it I can’t get medical attention for this ear issue. It would suck to get through this week, only to have to take next week off because of COVID.

I miss my partner. It breaks my heart to not be able to cuddle my spud when he wants to cuddle. I hate leaving him in front of the TV all day, but I can’t be in the same room as him the entire time. So I’m up and down a lot coz he calls me. Which is another reason I gotta get my ears fixed. I can barely hear shit. It comes in handy, but not when you are the one who has to look after the spud. His dad can come out. If there is an emergency, he would come out, esp as he and potato have COVID. I just gotta vacate the premises, back to my ‘hopefully’ COVID-free spare bedroom. But that’s for emergencies. Which, thankfully, aren’t happening.

I honestly deserve a spa retreat just for myself over a weekend, where it’s just me, a nice bath, and my laptop to write fics on. I may make that happen yet.

#personal

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pocketramblr · 3 years

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how his hair do that, 5 options

the following is a crack fanfic in five parts, each section on the same premise but not same continuity. also, very spoilerish

bnha manga spoilers below! very recent leaks below! very spoilery!

Better than a charcoal milkshake v 1

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When the heroes first attacked, alarms blaring, compound up in chaos, Dabi snuck away. He let the others pour out of the doors and down the stairs, and crept backwards, turning and running once he was certain no one would notice him.

Not that it would matter much if he did, but why waste the energy on killing them too? He’d need all his firepower today.

Dabi tore through the halls to his room, making it there and slapping his card against the scanner. No time to lose, not when he knew he needed to take care of a few more things before locating where Endeavor was in this heroes’ mission.

He kicked open his bathroom door, hands occupied with carefully pulling the black wig off his head- snagging that on his staples was just the worst, and he couldn’t have blood messing this up today.

Not yet, at least.

Under the bathroom cabinet he grabbed the bag of powery charcoal. It was supposed to be used for some beauty purpose or another, something about enriching hair that didn’t even work- but it would work to darken his white locks.

He poured it on, barely bothering to lean over the sink and keep it from going everywhere. As a final test, he once more wet a bit of it, the color seeping from the hair as it dripped.

He already knew it would work, that’s why he had intercepted so much of it before the quirk cultists could offer it to Toga or Hawks or whoever, but his heart was racing with both nerves and pure excitement.

Finally. The day he’d burn it all down, and make them see why.

He left his door open as he ran back out into the hallway, making a beeline for where he left Hawks. First things first, take care of that, then find Endeavor.

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Better than a charcoal milkshake v 2

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“Hey, put me down by that camping supplies store. And Skeptic too.” Dabi ordered, surveying the carnage of Jakku and glancing over at the man hunched over his laptop.

Said man looped up sharply at that, frowning and spitting that he wasn’t going to do that or something.

Dabi didn’t really pay attention to that.

“Where?” Gigantomachia asked, still rumbling forward towards whatever he smelled. Two masters or something.

Compress cleared his throat and translated for the currently blinded giant. “It’s at 4:05 o’clock, I’d say thirty feet forward.” He then looked over at Dabi, mask as unsettling as any of them. “You’ll be carefull too, on your personal mission?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dabi waved him off, snagging Skeptic by the back of his shirt and tugging as Machia scooped them up and placed them on the pavement.

He ran inside the evacuated store, mercifully empty and not decayed, and started looking for the bags of charcoal.

When he found one, he tore it open. Charcoal fell to the floor, and he ground his boot down into it.

“What…” Skeptic seemed without words, for once. Good.

Dabi tore off his black wig, tossing it aside. He wouldn’t need it anymore.

“You wear a wig??”

“Yeah.” He started to scoop up handfuls of the charcoal, rubbing it into his hair. “Hey, go grab me some water, and then go set up the cameras. We got a show to put on.”

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Stinky dumpster boy

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“But my good name?” He sneered the word and all it implied in the world of false heroes, “is Todoroki Touya.”

With that, he dumped the water over his head, and it streamed down over his face, filthy.

The dirty water, practically mud, stung the places on his face where his skin was barely stapled together, and Dabi was reminded of why he didn’t bother with showers anymore- the pain.

But now his true colors- literally- were revealed and it was all worth it. All the truth was out, and the truth had always hurt him.

Shoto, who seemed to be trying to juggle first aid on like, five different people with two random heroes he didn’t know next to him, gaped.

“Come on, I know my face has changed, but my own family should still be able to recognize me, yeah? But you never did. You never did, Todoroki Shoto.”

Dabi suddenly found himself encased in ice.

Ah, this again.

“Yumi’s is colder.”

Shoto’s jaw dropped, then he glared. “Stand back.” He said as he stood up. “He just dunked water on his head, to cool him off I bet. If he is Touya, his body never could handle his own heat. If he’s not… those burns come from somewhere at least.”

Ok, now Dabi was offended.

“What do you mean, ‘if I’m not’?” he demanded. “I just revealed my white hair? I know that’s what the picture on my shrine looks like, you never even looked at that?”

“How do you even know what your shrine looks like?” Shoto sounded dangerously close to judgmental for a little brother who was probably as emo as Dabi had been at his age. “And wait, that cup of water was supposed to wash out your hair? What, do you never bathe or something?”

Ok, now Dabi was really offended.

“Of course I bathe! I just have to sponge bath, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed from having your own scars, but when they take up most of your body and are killing you they end up controlling a lot of your life!”

Ugh, asking him if he didn’t bathe. He’d understand that asked of Shigaraki, sure, but him? Shoto had gotten close enough to smell him, at least.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” the hero in blue, the one that was tending to Eraserhead, raised his hands. “But uh… do you want some help with that?”

“I’m fine, don’t want to cool him off too much so he can fight longer.” Shoto shook his head.

“I was talking to him.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

The hero waved his hand, bubble of water pulling up from the ground. Then he pointed to his own head. “I can take care of that? At the very least it’ll be cleaned out and um, whatever color it should be?”

Dabi stared at him. Shoto stared at him. The other hero in green stared at him, and the one who’d offered help started to sweat noticebly.

“Eh, sure, whatever.”

The hero nodded, and the bubble of water floated over to him, disappearing in his hair.

The bubble floated out a couple of time, murky brown and black with ash, dirt, oil, blood, anything else he’d never thought about too much. It would wring itself thin, much dropping, and return to cleaning.

Finally, his hair was mostly white and thoroughly soaked.

“Thanks.” He called over.

“Yeah.” The hero answered, still frantically trying to help Eraserhead with his free hand, which he’d gone back too as soon as he thought Dabi was distracted. Buying time.

The other hero was on his fourth facepalm.

Shoto just looked contemplative.

Endeavor, one of the ones receiving treatment, sat up but looked like he was going to pass out.

Well all right then. Time to really start- the hair snafu didn’t matter. They were all going to die that day anyway.

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Weirdest commercial I’ve ever been in.

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“We’ll be dancing in hell together, Todoroki Enji.” Dabi finished his speech with a sneer.

The watching heroes were all stunned silent, mouths open, eyes wide. The revelation must be sending them, like it would all who were watching Skeptic’s broadcast. This would burn it all down, perfect.

“I don’t understand…” Enji managed to say, spitting out a bit of blood.

“What, you don’t understand how I survived, or how I hate you so much I’d hurt innocent people over it? Because that second part is exactly what you did, take out all that self-loathing and insecurity, rage at your shortcomings and condemn children not born yet to them. Guess it’s a family trait.”

“No, not that,” He waved a hand. “I mean, I totally get how you’re a wreck, even if all of your other siblings managed to not become mass murders, I mean- I don’t understand, how did that pint of water wash out all of your hair dye? Aren’t you better funded after the Deika merger, can’t you afford proper hair coloring?”

“I was also wondering that.” Shoto admitted.

“Same.” The hero in blue nodded. The hero in green facepalmed.

“Water?” Dabi repeated, then looked at the can he’d tossed aside. “Oh, no. This isn’t water- it’s a momento of the only true hero.” He bent down, picking up the can and studying the image on it.

“Stain was right, you know.” He mused. “About hero society being rotten. So rotton, so full of fakes, that there was only one that deserved the title. He just got the wrong hero, guessing All Might.” Dabi snorted at the very idea. “No, the only real one, the pure one, the one that defines heroism, the only one with a kill count higher than me- for all the dear old man and his biggest fan Hawks tried, of course- is Wash.”

“… Wash?” Shoto cocked his head. “Wait, like, Wash, Wash?”

“The one and only. That’s how this Official Wash’s Hair Washing Serum, the only product that can wash out all dirt, dye, and any other kind of grime, in just one go.” He shook the can around so they could see. “What, you all thought I could just magically lighten my hair from black to white in the space of one fight?”

“No,” Shoto said, like a liar, and then he threw a glacier at Dabi, and the fight was on in earnest.

--------

Old news

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“And now you’ll see who I really am, who you’ve created.” Dabi poured the bleach over his head, giving it a moment to sink into the hair before he shook it out, grinning wide enough to tear his staples.

The heroes on the ground and the few tending to them stared in shock.

Then Shoto gasped.

“Hawks?”

“What? Where?” Dabi whirled around, looked up, because he was really sure he had managed to make sure that pest wouldn’t be flying or fighting again, but well… he’d thought that once before and been wrong then.

“No, you- you’re Hawks, you dye your hair black when its in Dabi mode, and its that beachy yellow blond in Hawks mode.” Shoto nodded to himself.

Blond? Dabi tugged at a lock of hair, and huh. It did seem more yellow than white.

“How could he be Hawks?” The hero in green demanded incredulously, before the hero in blue grabbed his arm and pulled it back to holding down Eraserhead for bandaging.

“The burns and staples are part of the disguise,” Shoto explained. “Fake, and misdirection. You were trained from young childhood to be a hero, sent to join AfO and the league as a spy, where you gained a fire quirk and decided to switch to the villains’ side because you hated the life you were forced into.”

Dabi stared at him.

Shoto stared back.

Enji stared at both of them.

“How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time?” Slipped from chapped, burnt lips.

Shoto looked offended at that.

“I mean, you’re half right, yes that’s what up with Hawks, yes he was sent as a spy, but I knew and I killed him at the compound. And not, like, in a metaphorical way.” He added when he saw something spark in Shoto’s eyes. “Literally. I’m not him. He is completely separate person and body than me and I totally literally killed him.” Or like. Close enough. “And like, thirty other people who were completely innocent.”

Or close enough, he really didn’t bother to keep track, but thirty sounded like a big number. Especially of murders.

“So then who are you?” Shoto asked.

“What, you don’t recognize me, little brother?” He almost growled it, feeling very tired of this all of a sudden.

“Little brother?” Shoto repeated, eyes wide, then narrowing. “Wait, how…”

“Oh not again.” Enji muttered.

“Not again?” Dabi asked. “Wait, you actually managed to drive one of the others to this too? And cover it up? Man, Enji, you’re more rotten than even I knew then!”

“One of the others?” Shoto looked around wildly. “What are you talking about?”

“I was talking about how Shigaraki also randomly showed up and called a first year student “little brother”.” Enji looked back over at Dabi. “What were you talking about?”

“Shigaraki did what?” The pyro looked over his shoulder, finding the villain looking absolutely stoned on the ground, almost as vacant as some of the unconscious heroes, with a curly haired student laying bloodied nearby, staring up at him. “Wait, which student is his little brother?”

“Midoriya, apparently.” Shoto shrugged.

“Midoriya?” Dabi almost choked on the name. “As in, the green bone-breaking kid? Isn’t he like All Might’s lovechild or something?”

“That’s what I said too!”

“I mean, his hair was also lighter when he showed up today.” The hero in blue pointed out to his fellow in a voice that would have been too quiet for Dabi to hear had everyone else not gone silent as well.

“And bleach boy tried to do the same thing with the bleach, yeah. Here, I’ll tie this off, you go take care of Bakugo.”

“I’m Todoroki Touya!” Dabi snapped. “Or I used to be called by that name, anyway, before you nearly killed me, Enji. Let’s just- get back to fighting, yeah, I’m going to kill you.”

#kjhgfghjk #this really is just me making fun of the hair thing #brought on by me and my sister giggling over possibilities #from 'do he wash' to 'wait... hair bleach doesnt work like that it'd be yellowy first'#my fic #my writing #ok i think thats enough tags #bnha manga spoilers #bnha #wish tumblr would give me my line break rights back #crackfic

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hannibals-hoe · 3 years

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Hannibal Commentary

This is a episode by episode rating and discussion of the best show I’ve ever seen.

⚠️Spoilers Ahead⚠️

Season 1

Episode 1, “Apéritif”

Alrighty let’s get into this.

Opening scene- we are confronted with a typical true crime tv series type of landscape- police sirens, officers, dead bodies. The show starts off with a weird sense of familiarity. Then, we are focused on Will. He is immediately thrust in as the main character, despite the show’s title. If you look closely at his expression, you notice how uncomfortable and disturbed he is to be at that crime scene. And as his eyes close, the color gradient shifts as he does- from a casual investigator, into the mind of a killer. As he traces his steps backwards and finally stops outside the home, you can see the look in eyes change. This is vital to the rest of the show so I’m going to call this the “Will Graham Murder Eyes.” He closes his eyes for a moment- but when he opens them again- you can see the lifelessness of a killer’s eyes. The very first words we hear of the show are Will describing the crime itself- a relatively non violent and casual one considering the rest of series. This is why when I recommend Hannibal to someone I always say to get past the first episode because it’s way to basic for the show as a whole.

Anyways, once Will concludes his findings, we cut to his classroom. When Will converses with Jack, we notice his tendency to not make eye contact, as described later on. This is such masterful acting on Hugh Dancy’s part. When Jack asks Will for help, we can see Will’s reluctance. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with his inner and outer thoughts even so early in the show.

The second time we see Will go into his “this is my design” phase, he is clearly more violent as we see him strangle Elise Nichols. The viewer is almost left with a feeling that Will is actually the one responsible, which is what will happen with those around Will later in the season. At least, that’s what I first interpreted during my first watch. You’re like, “wait, Will didn’t actually kill these people right?” But as the show goes on everything makes more sense about Will’s little mind trick.

Next, we see the sweetest part of Will’s character- his love for strays. One cannot help but smile watching Will care for Winston and his other dogs. It is such a stark contrast to what we have seen so far of Will’s character. And then, we watch him struggle to sleep with his nightmares. When he uses a towel as a blanket, we know that this is not new for him- that he has nightmares regularly. The first episode expertly characterizes Will in a way no other show I’ve seen has done before.

Then, in the bathroom scene with Jack, Will is describing the way this killer (Garret Jacob Hobbs) kills- he says, “he kills these girls quickly and-“ he pauses. This pause, I believe, is him stopping himself from straight up saying “with mercy” instead, he adds, “to his thinking, with mercy.” Will, once again, is fearful of his own dark thoughts and how those thoughts will be viewed by others, specifically Jack.

Then, we see Will at the autopsy table, and a beautiful yet disturbing image of Elise being impaled on antlers is seen. The antlers will become a running symbol in the show, later an elk, then the Wendigo. At this point, I do believe the symbol was not planned, but, I could give the creators the credit of intending for them the sign for evil- in this case, the evil of Garret Jacob Hobbs. When Will concludes that this killer is eating his victims, we cut to our first shot of Hannibal.

We don’t need to see explicit human organs being cooked yet- we know it’s cannibalism. The shot of Hannibal himself is quite stunning- barely any light surrounding his features, he appears almost like a skull in the darkness. We visually know he is supposed to be the villain. But as the episode goes on, it’s quite easy to forget that Hannibal really is a serial killer and cannibal.

Next, we are put in Hannibal’s office with Franklyn. When he places his dirty tissue on Hannibal’s table, we can see Hannibal’s visible resentment. He is once again characterized as the villain. Jack then enters the equation, asking about Hannibal’s secretary, who we never see, though I believe it is quite likely Hannibal killed her, as he only describes her having “romantic whims” and “followed her heart to the United Kingdom.” As Jack walks around Hannibal’s office, he looks through some of his drawings. If you look closely, beneath the art Jack is viewing, there is a distinctly visible drawing of “the wound man” I only noticed this after my fourth or fifth rewatch. It made me so angry because if Jack had seen that, we know Hannibal would have killed him right then and there. While Jack is looking, Hannibal does seem to wonder if Jack will notice the sketch. Hannibal picks up the scalpel, ready to defend himself, but when he is confident Jack is not investigating him, he places it on his desk, arranging it “just so.” Mads doing that was such great acting because we immediately know the Hannibal is a perfectionist, which works out to his advantage during his many murders, as he leaves no usable evidence.

And now, we go to Hannibal and Will’s first meeting. Instantly, Hannibal is able to notice Will’s lack of eye contact. As Will describes why he does this, Hannibal’s expression changes, he looks Will up and down, and gives a small smile. Right here- I believe with all of my being that Hannibal started to fall for Will right there. Will’s kind of sad, dark humor instantly is able to draw Hannibal in. However Will is not able to reciprocate these feelings just yet- he feels attacked by Hannibal’s accurate analysis.

Our next crime scene is more graphic than the first two by a good margin. This is the first of Hannibal’s murder scenes. As we cut between the crime scene and Hannibal’s cooking, we are confronted with the very obvious disgust of Hannibal being a cannibal.

One of my favorite shots is the next, with Will in the shower, (hehehe duh) then the stag. This symbol could be interpreted as either Will’s evil growing within him, or Hannibal- lurking in the shadows. In this case, I lean towards the latter, as the next shot is of Hannibal himself, bringing breakfast for Will. (As the show goes on this symbol will vary in meanings but don’t worry I’ll explain it as best I can.) Already, Hannibal has a want to help Will, by making sure he has a good meal. He could have very easily just traveled with Will to the construction site without food, but in a way, he could have wanted to self-congratulate himself by obviously providing Will with the evidence that could convict him. To me- Hannibal’s motive for bringing Will breakfast is a mix of him showing his nature of self-congratulation (described by Bedelia later in season 2) and wanted to provide for Will’s well-being in the only way he knows how. The next few lines are some fabulous foreshadowing. Will’s initial wish is for their relationship to be strictly professional- however we very well know this is going to change. Already, Hannibal objects to this statement, he is hoping they will become at the very least “friendly.” Next, Hannibal establishes the symbolism of the teacup, saying that is how Jack sees him. Will laughs out loud at that, and that is one of the only times we see Will have a strong expression of happiness. Yes, later on Hannibal becomes an object of resentment for Will, but I think this interaction is a strong indication of what life would be like for Will and Hannibal post-fall.

Now we head to the construction site and the discovery of Garret Jacob Hobbs. Hannibal is visibly impressed by Will’s ability to find Hobbs, and his admiration grows.

Hannibal then calls the Hobbs’ residence, warning that “they know.” It’s such a subtle yet powerful move in Hannibal’s part. I think the real reason Hannibal makes that call is to test Will. Hannibal knew Hobbs would react violently, and he wondered if Will would use violence back. He wanted to test Will’s potential and what he perceived Will to be- a troubled FBI teacher who has dark impulses he is deathly afraid of. Arguably, everything Hannibal does for Will from this point forward is to take away his fears. Will fears his own darkness and Hannibal wants him to finally find peace and beauty in that darkness.

Anyways, back to the show. There is a brief shot of Will, covered in blood, with the pendulum of his mind swinging back and forth. This tiny time jump serves the purpose of both suspense shock. We are left to wonder what Will has done- we can assume it was brutal, but was it evil? I’ll get into that later. So, Hannibal and Will arrive at the Hobbs’ home, and Will is confronted with a nightmare. Contradictory is Hannibal’s reaction to the scene. Even when Hobbs’ wife is bleeding out on the front porch, Hannibal is shown with a non caring and relaxed demeanor. Will makes his way inside and begins his journey to a troubling self-discovery. He shoots Hobbs 10 times, his fear for Abigail evident but more powerful is his hatred for Hobbs. When Hobbs’ falls, he utters that famous line, “see?” I think the completion of that sentence would be, “see, it feels good to kill.” Will is going to struggle with this the entire series and only with Hannibal’s help Will he be able to agree with it.

Will struggles to save Abigail, and Hannibal appears, less focused on Abigail and more on Will. Nonetheless, he uses his big, strong hands (sorry) to save Abigail’s life. As he does so he looks up at Will, perhaps thinking, “Ok, he does have that darkness inside him.” Once the scene clears, Will is back outside covered in blood. I will again bring attention to his expression. His “Murder Eyes” are back. He is reveling in the power that killing Hobbs made him feel. I would not say this is dissimilar to how he feels after killing Randal Tier in season 2 and Dolarhyde in season 3. He’s like an addict from then on- he would deny it, but killing Hobbs was a high he would chase for the length of the series.

The last scene of the episode is in Abigail’s hospital room. Will goes in to see Hannibal, sitting next to her bed and gently holding her hand, sleeping. It’s easily the most humanizing shot of Hannibal. Will takes a seat himself, watching Hannibal with what could almost be described as a loving gaze. In that moment, he completely trusts Hannibal with her well being, as Hannibal’s hands saved her life. In a very subtle movement, Will looks down at his own hands, sitting half open in his lap. It’s quite possible he is thinking that his hands had done something quite opposite to what Hannibal’s have- they have killed.

Wow that was a ride if you read all of that thank you so much. I’ll check for typos one of these days. Stay tuned for next episode ok I’m outttt.

#hannibal analysis #hannibal comentary #hannibal symbolism #hannibal cinematography #netflix hannibal #hannibal #hannigram #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #will x hannibal #doctor lecter #dr lecter #hannibal x will #hannibal parallels #hannibal memes #renew hannibal #hannibal season one #apertif

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Simply, yours (8) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: cursing, mature content, angst

A/N: This one was so easy and fun to write frankly! Thank you so much for letting me know your opinions for the last chap, it motivates me like 1000x more! If you could tell me what you thought about this one as well, it would be nice! Thank you 🎉 And sorry I edited this one, but Im sure there will be typos and sentences that made sense in my head while I edited but they actually dont, apologies!

Tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @ shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged let me know! Im always open^^)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8

Once again, you entered your apartment in silence, except the few times Baekhyun let out a tired, exasperated sigh. Your phone was blowing up with messages from your boss; honestly, you didn't understand why was he even trying to contact you after everything that happened. By now you knew you wouldn't be able to save your work spot. Not after what Baekhyun did. And here you were, worrying about not telling your darn boss about your pregnancy.

In the safety of your apartment full of love, you were able to feel. The hotness of emotions was coming back to your bloodstream, the numbness from throwing up and the adrenaline of the fight -it was all palpable in fading touches.

This time, it was you who let out a tired sigh, but you felt the burn behind your eyes yet again as you made your way to the bedroom to collect some clean clothes before making a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Baekhyun's angry expression as you passed by him.

Before you could close the door, he murmured your name in a warning.

“What.”

“You know we need to talk, right?” he snapped, turning to you. He spotted your bloodshot eyes, full of unshed tears and he assumed you weren't seeing him properly. He was right.

You saw him blurry like a modern art painting. Pretty, yet so… unreadable, almost worrying at how you couldn't see to the depths of it. “I know.”

At your terse answer, he clenched his jaw and you blinked, letting the tears roll down your cheeks just to see the tick in his jaw, the set of his chin almost scary. “Go,” he sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “We will talk once you're out of there.”

Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly but to your surprise, he reached for the front door, swinging it open. You closed your eyes just in time for it to slam shut. And he was gone.

Quietly, you took a long shower, thinking he wouldn't be back until… well, until he deemed good to be back. Which could be whenever.

Honestly speaking, you never had such a big, troubling fight before. Never. Yes, you did fight, but he never left you. Not at that hour, anyway. And you were also never pregnant. So this was one of a kind problem you found yourself in, and as you tried not to sob through your entire shower, your mind instead stormed through options you had with what happened.

Except, you had none.

You were out of job.

Your boyfriend, a hapkido master, used violence on your boss.

Your boyfriend could be reported.

You lied to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend… was mad at you. Livid.

Was this the end of your relationship?

No.

He wouldn't let go of you that easily, and the realisation of that made you sob right then and there. The relationship you two shared was stronger than any of your doubts that were scaring you; it was stronger than any bad word, any bad action, because you two were more than that and your connection was stronger than that. As much as it hurt you that he left without telling you, you knew him well enough to know he would be coming back to you. You knew he would forgive you and he wouldn't break up with you. Not when you were carrying his children. Baekhyun was much, much more than an angry emotion and a protective action.

And you were pregnant with him.

Three kids. Three.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you closed your eyes under the hot water, wanting it to drown out all of your intruding thoughts.

If there was an issue you two genuinely had to worry about, it was how you would feed them and yourselves. Would you even survive bearing three children till the end? Would you survive giving birth? You were way past the first trimester which meant you were over the dangerous period, but you knew better than that. Bearing one child was a constant risk. Three? Definitely playing with fire.

Not wanting to create a huge water bill, you reluctantly turned off the shower even though your body screamed for more. Tired and aching, you dried yourself up, not bothering to put on a lotion; smells had been playing with your stomach too much and you literally despised and hated the constant throwing up game.

It was just ten minutes after your shower; you were lying in the bed, tucked in and ready to call it a day, when Baekhyun came back. His timing was perfect and it meant he didn't wander off in the dark streets to let his frustrations out. He probably went for a short walk.

Some shuffling later, he appeared in the doorway, the small lamp next to the mattress you were lying on gently illuminating your tired self. You didn't dare to look at your boyfriend, but you knew you had to do it. He was expecting you to. He was not in the place to beg for forgiveness now. If it was anyone, it was you.

Sighing, you pressed your lips together as you sat up slowly, looking him dead in the eyes; those dark eyes that had still some leftover heavy showers in them.

“Baekhyun,” you started and he kept your gaze daringly, leaning against the doorframe. When he didn't speak, you pursed your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have told you.”

Silence.

“I will need more than that.” Was his cold answer.

“Don't you want to sit down?”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he crossed his arms. You knew better than to test him. When it came to irrational stuff you did, he was using the “I'm older” type of power against you, and you couldn't argue with that. “What did he make you sign?”

Once again, it was quiet. He was burning you with his scorching gaze, and you felt your cheeks heat up in complete embarrassment and self-loathing. But you needed to be honest. “I-I'm not sure if it was in the contract,” you started, trying not to stutter, “but he made me… Ehm, I was not supposed to fall pregnant. In exchange of him promoting me at work.”

As expected, Baekhyun let nothing to be read from his face. “Did you sign the contract and not read what it said?”

Please, make this stop. “Yes. But I really didn't think that-t-that-”

He spoke your name, cold and harsh, obviously upset. “You didn't think what?! Just how irresponsible it is not to read the conditions of a piece of fucking paper that can be used against you, huh?!”

Slowly, you tried to breathe. This was necessary. He had to let it out.

“You could have signed him owning you for all I know! Fucking hell,” he sighed, now running his hand through his hair wildly, turning away from you for a moment before sharply turning back, startling you. “And you just wanted to do it because what- you wanted more money? Is it all about money for you?! Since when did you become so fucking materialistic that you would stand in your own damn dreams!!!”

Tears, tears, tears, and he was completely right. Opening your mouth, he snapped.

“No, don't speak! I don't want to hear it right now! Fuck,” he murmured, and paced in front of you, his jaw set strong. “You weren't even pregnant when it all happened, why would you want to get to more money so badly?!”

“I wanted to provide for us as well!” you shouted back now, but your voice was so shaky you felt like you sounded pathetic. He had to know, though. “We are coming from a low-class background, Baekhyun! Why is it so bad for me to want to do more when I am perfectly able to do so?”

“Because you would have ruined your own dreams while chasing something so artificial!” he shouted back, stepping closer to where you were sitting, but you didn't budge from the sudden movement. “Money was, and money will be! But us creating a family together won't be a forever opportunity! And you were willing to just hang it up for, what, 300.000 won more? Don't be ridiculous! Plus! He is a fucking arsehole! If he isn't touching you up, he is treating you like complete shit; you deserve better than any of this! And if I could have, I would have beaten him up long ago.”

You averted his gaze. His words were driven by his love for you, you knew that much. So as much as you wanted to be offended and hurt, he was hundred percent right. Everything he just threw into your face was correct and you couldn't defend yourself, because he would come at you right away.

“Is this really everything our relationship means to you?” he asked, a bit more quietly, but his tired tone was scarring your heart. You dared to look back at him, to see him staring on the ground, one hand on his hip.

“No,” you said and you cried again, “it isn't and you know it, too.”

“Do you think I am incapable of taking care of us? Of the kids?” he looked at you, huge puppy eyes on full display as he slowly let his guard down. “Because all of this just proves you don't trust me as the breadwinner of this household.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your arguments, but ended up going against it. “Baekhyun, we aren't in a situation where I need to stay home, clean and do nothing while you get to earn money as if it was some easy thing to do. I am, and I will continue to work,” you replied resolutely despised tears rolling down your cheeks, “and it isn't you as a breadwinner, but us.”

The society surely was patriarchal, so if you dared to talk to your father in this manner, he would have slapped you. There was no such thing as a woman who got to go against her husband or brother.

Baekhyun, however, wasn't your father or your brother. He wasn't even your husband, and when you saw his troubled look, he finally let himself sink down on the mattress. He was your kind, loving boyfriend. “I already said this,” he started, “but I am not, and I won't keep you inside the house, locked up, while waiting for me to return to you after work. I won't tell you what to do, you know I never did,” he said in a more friendly manner, but it still beared authority. “I respect you as a woman,” he said, speaking your name softly, “and you are my everything.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek that was still wet from your tears. “I need to see you only smiling, happily, but I cannot accept you lying to me like this again. I thought we had been together long enough for us to earn each other's trust, and you going like that behind my back and signing bullshit was nothing but stupid and irresponsible. Especially because your pregnancy was jeopardized like that. You can't be under stress like that, sweetie.”

Hearing him calling you a pet name, you knew the war was over and he finally was on the positive side. His authoritative voice still kept you on edge, so you didn't throw yourself at him just yet.

“If he kicked you out, which I'm pretty much convinced he did, I wouldn't be against you not working until you give birth.”

“Baekhy-”

“Shh, let me speak, honey,” he said quietly and shuffled himself closer, sitting right opposite you cross-legged as he took your hands in his. “Listen. I know you know it, but having three babies under your heart is a dangerous situation,” he whispered loudly, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips. “It's dangerous especially for you. You are very tired after work, and you come home late and don't get enough rest. Sukyeong even told me you don't always keep up with your meals, and I don't like it one bit.” The way his lips moved against the skin of your hand was soothing you. “Accept that he threw you out, before I file a lawsuit against him for harassing you and making you sign nonsense contracts, and stay home. Find a part-time job instead, but you need to rest, darling.”

“Baekhyun,” you finally spoke and he hummed, as he let your hands fall to his lap. His eyes were now so gentle and full of worry. “I am so sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have done any of that, but please know I did it with good intentions.”

Baekhyun went silent for a bit, analysing your face, your tired features and pale skin, which only reminded him you had been throwing up today and dealing with the situation in the restaurant. Suddenly, he felt so guilty for making you go through all of it in just one evening, (although you were responsible for it, too). Let alone he just shouted at you for good ten minutes. He couldn't even imagine what other things you must have been feeling the past weeks, given how your body was changing day by day. “It's alright, babe, it's alright. I understand. C'mere,” he whispered, opening his arms and you threw yourself at him, making him almost fall back on his back. You snuggled your face into his neck, and he let out a satisfied breath, caressing your back gently. “I'm sorry for shouting at you. But I'm not sorry for punching that idiot. He deserved it.”

You were looking at the skin on his neck and how it disappeared under his shirt that had the first two buttons undone. “Thank you for standing up for me, honey.”

“My baby,” he murmured lovingly into your hair before he gave it a kiss. “My only baby.”

You woke up to slow, gentle caresses on your small belly as your shirt was ridden up just a tiny bit, Baekhyun not wanting to wake you just yet. He was behind you, wanting to spoon you as soon as he washed up and fell in bed next to you last night. It didn't take long for both of you to fall asleep, as surprising as that was. The events tired you out, and he wanted you to sleep as much as you could.

He kissed your clothed shoulder before he nosed your neck and buried his face in your hair, while his caresses didn't stop. Letting his eyes close for a moment, he brought his front just a little closer to you, his leg wrapping around yours that were politely connected. His hand absentmindedly wandered further up before going dangerously low, sending shots of pleasure down your core without even paying attention. You knew he would soon realize his effect on you, because you definitely felt like squirming in his hold.

His hand lazily dragged upwards almost touching the underside of your breast when you couldn't keep it in anymore, breathing in sharply just for his hand to stop right under the-

“Oh, I finally have you awake,” he murmured, his husky voice sending another set of chills down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile, happy you woke up to this. The fluid down there was saying something else, though.

“Slept well?” he murmured into your ear, as he continued dragging his hand up. You groaned softly when he groped your breast as he pushed himself even more into you, and you felt it. He was so ready for you.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, enjoying the massage as he proceeded to nibble on your ear from behind, your eyes closed in pleasure. “You?”

“I realised we didn't keep our promise, babygirl.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when your realised what he was implying.

“So, is my beautiful lady still horny enough to go the remaining two rounds?” His voice was so deep, you felt yourself scrunching your eyes shut, the adrenaline quickly making its way into your bloodstream. “We will take it,” he murmured and this time his hand was going down, down, down, the panties the only barrier from his wandering hand as he lifted the hem of them teasingly, testing just how ready you were for him, “very slowly, my dear.”

His fingers played with you just for few seconds before he pushed his middle finger inside, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you leaned back into him.

“It's so early, but you are already like this,” he continued while your head was swimming, his ministrations nothing short of slow, yet so pleasurable, “all for me.”

Your insides were squeezing painfully, and he wasn't moving faster, nor did he have the intentions. “Baekhyun,” you said, trying not to pant too loudly, “I just want you.”

“Hmm? Speak louder, I'm still sleepy.”

“You're such a tease,” you whispered in disbelief before surprising him by reaching behind you to touch him exactly where he needed you. He hissed, his eyes looking at your profile to see the smirk you had on your face.

“I wanted it to be slow, romantic and all of that,” he mumbled before pushing your hand away while he sat up, causing you to fall on your back. As soon as his hand was out of your panties, you felt a pang of frustration before he covered your body with his, his face close to yours as you tried to calm down from him fingering you so sensually.

“I want none of that,” you replied as you grabbed his face for a heated kiss, “I want you inside me, just about now.”

“Needy, naughty…” he muttered with a flirty smirk as he teased you at your opening, causing both of you to groan. “Are you ready, sweetie?” And he still made sure you were okay with him.

“I'm always ready for you,” you whispered, spreading your legs even more for him, as he pushed himself in, your eyes instantly closing in wonderful pleasure only he was able to give you.

He stayed inside, buried and panting into your hot mouth as he rested his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, open your eyes for me, hm? I love you, you know that?”

“I know that. And I love you, do you know that?” you reciprocated, smiling up at him only to be rewarded with his smiley eyes as he pushed back before diving right in few more times, where he hit your sweet spot. Moaning loudly, he dragged his face to suck on your neck before he took one of your hands, intertwining them with his as he pushed it up above your head.

“I know that. You are my angel,” he said, finishing it with a guttural groan as he felt you pulsing around him, knowing you were about to cross the edge and he was not far behind you. “Come for me. We have another round,” he breathed before kissing you passionately, messily, moanily.

You mentioned you wanted none of slow. And in the second round, he gave you just that. Baekhyun became ruthless, just before whispering: “Are you riding?” And he was fast to change positions. He helped you straddle him although you definitely had the energy to move and climb by yourself, given your crazy hormonal drive.

“That was just a warm-up session.” He warned, not waiting for you. Your screams, his groans, the heat, it was all so fucking amazing you were left in a complete bliss. You were fast to catch up to him, moving your hips while he was watching from beneath you, eyes dark, glazed over and completely smitten by you.

“You're the best,” you breathed out as you dragged your hands to you breasts, but Baekhyun wanted none of that. He swiftly sat up, his chest almost pressed to yours while you continuously rode him, up and down, your hands being pushed aside just to be switched with his as he added his sinful lips to the swell of your breasts.

“You're a goddess, mummy,” he muttered, leaving a wet trail on your chest while his hands squeezed and massaged your mounds.

“Baekhyun!” you scolded, and despite the sweat and the delightful pull in your belly approaching yet again, you blushed; the blush definitely caused by his choice of words.

He looked into your eyes, his ones proud and lustful. “It's true,” he muttered, groaning as you sank down exceptionally hard, almost falling onto his sturdy chest. His hands were now squeezing your sides, helping you out, unable to keep the needy touches to himself when you looked so gorgeous like that. He squeezed your arching body to his sweaty chest.

A quick glance at your swollen belly that he made sure you noticed, his hand came to touch against it and you were gone. He caressed you there gently while swallowing your moans as you grabbed his face, kissing him, your hair falling, creating an intimate curtain just around where your mouths were connected. You still had an unearthly energy to help your boyfriend out to his orgasm, not wanting to be in the ecstasy alone, and as much as Baekhyun needed the release, his hands slid across your sides, holding your hips to stop their movement.

“Enough, baby girl,” he whispered into your mouth, leaning back ever so slightly to see your flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He was still panting and you swore to god he looked so handsome with his hair glued to his forehead, puffy cheeks. You might have gotten horny again.

“Come with me,” you insisted, attempting to to move again but he bit his lip, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he held your back tenderly, moving you to lie on your back, while slipping out of you. Hissing, he stood up quickly.

“I'll be right back.”

Trying to calm your breath, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling in your aching body. A knowing smile played on your lips; Baekhyun would rather get a cold shower then another orgasm from you, just because he was worried about you. If that wasn't some darn good self-control, you didn't know what it could be.

Just as he promised, he was back soon, a towel in his hands to help you clean up. Once done, he lied back down next to you and you immediately curled up by his chest. “That was amazing.”

“Hmm, you are amazing,” he said. After a little pause, he asked: “You feeling alright?”

“Perfect. But I could go again, you know? You don't have to be so careful with me.”

He snorted as he played with the ends of your hair. “Jeez, you already have my baby! Actually three of them! Slow down, woman.”

You both laughed heartily, and he loved the sound.

“But I want to have youuu, my love,” you whined.

“You have me. You always have me. I'm yours. I'm just simply yours.”

A/N: just to clarify, this isnt the end, we still have quite some things to get through actually - more drama ㅠㅠ! Just didnt want to leave you on a cliffhanger. Hope you liked this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any feedback is very much appreciated 🥺 🥺

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop au #my writings

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scullysexual · 4 years

Photo

*Prompt request for AU where Mulder gets Scully pregnant in high school and they are “forced” to marry but fall in love.*

Okay now we’re at the final chapter/part/instalment. Meet my longest fic ever 5k words. I have never written that many words for a one shot before let a alone a chapter but here we are. This is a fic of its own honestly, it’s just attached to this universe. I don’t really have much to say other than I’ve really enjoyed this universe and that I’m still sticking to what I say in the last part- send me prompt in this universe and I will write them, this is probably my favourite universe I’ve ever written in I’m so glad this anon sent me the prompt and I hope I did it justice. A full masterlist of this will be posted tomorrow. @today-in-fic

A Baby Is Forever: Part Six [EPILOGUE]

Part One.

Part Two.

Part Three.

Part Four.

Part Five.

AO3.

- - -

There’s a warm weight trying to squeeze against her, a head that bumps her chin, and cold feet trying to find warmth between her bare legs.

Emily’s climbed out of her crib again.

“Hey Emi,” Scully hears Mulder mumble.

She slipping back into subconsciousness when she feels a pull against her pyjama top.

“No Emily,” she says, taking her daughter’s hands in her own to prevent her from tugging at the top.

“I want milk.”

For the past three weeks Scully had been slowly weaning Emily. It was going a lot soother than she expected, morning is full of distractions, replace breastmilk and snuggles with cow’s milk and cuddles and morning goes by with no hassle. Naps were a bit harder but followed the same pattern, night feeds were still a thing for now.

The system worked nine times out of a ten. The times it didn’t work was when Emily was sleepy but couldn’t fall asleep.

“Do you want Daddy to make you some big girl milk?” Scully asks, opening her eyes just in time to see Emily pout- a trait she got from Mulder- and shake her head.

“That milk’s yucky.” She frees her hands from Scully’s grasp and begins clawing at her t-shirt again.

She’s tired and wants to give in but Emily had been doing so well that to give in now seems like a waste of three weeks.

“Mulder, will you make Emily some milk, please?” she asks.

“No! I want your milk,” Emily whines at the same time Mulder leaves the bed.

“How about we cuddle while we wait for Daddy to bring your big girl milk, yeah?” Scully tries bargaining.

Emily doesn’t look convinced but she moves towards Scully anyway, snuggling against her.

She’s almost drifting off when Emily speaks again.

“Daddy heat milk up?”

“I’m sure he will, baby.”

Mulder comes back five minutes later, bottle of milk in his hand. He climbs back into the bed, handing the bottle to Emily.

“There you go, Em.”

Emily takes it and Scully falls back asleep for another hour.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

She places Emily down on the counter.

“What do you want for breakfast, Emily?”

“Cookies,” the child says.

Scully sighs, the third day in a row Emily has asked for cookies for breakfast.

“You can’t have cookies, baby.” She roots in the fridge, pulling out a pack of eggs. “How about eggs?” she asks holding the pack towards Emily.

Emily shakes her head slowly. “Cookies.”

“You can have cookies when we’re out,” Scully tells her, putting the eggs back in the fridge.

Nearby Mulder’s bagels pop up in the toaster, startling both Scully and Emily. Mulder is over in seconds, taking them out. At least one of them knows what their eating this morning.

Seeing the bagels being placed on Mulder’s plate, Emily points towards it.

“Daddy,” she says.

“You want bagels like Daddy?”

Emily nods and Mulder is already a step ahead of her, pushing the lever of the toaster down.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She showers while Emily eats. A fifteen minute reprieve from her daughter.

She loves Emily more than she thought she could ever love anything but approaching two-years-old, Scully fears her once impeccably behaved baby girl was going to become possessed by the Terrible Twos.

With Mulder gone most days, it was just her and Emily. Occasionally her mom and Melissa would help out but Scully didn’t want to seem like she was depending on them. Since Emily was born, Scully had to need to prove to everyone that she could do it, that she wasn’t just a baby caring for a baby, she was a mother and she could live up to the responsibility of being one.

Even Mulder had proved himself capable. He was afforded more immature moments than her but he never let it impede on his ability to be a father. He helped out when he could and they fell into an easy routine. The dark early days he proved to be enough when Emily refused to suckle, refused to let Scully pick her up, refused to let her bond with her. Their daughter had just wanted Mulder and Scully had given up. She pumped rather than physically breast feed and Mulder had been left to do it all- feed the baby, change her diaper, play with her, Scully was just the sustenance provider.

Now she and Emily get along just fine, once they were over that initial hurdle, and now they were best friends.

Scully exits the shower, immediately grabbing her ring from the counter and putting it back on her finger. It still shined as brightly as it did two years ago and that’s how Scully intended on it staying.

Rumours had sparked all around the school when she returned wearing it not that it bothered Scully, rumours had been circling around the building since her baby bump became visible, questions on who the father was and Did you really expect Dana Scully to be the first one pregnant? No, I didn’t either. They could write SLUT across her locker in red capital letters as much as they liked, Scully was never going to rise to it, she had bigger things on her mind than what immature school kids thought of her.

“Scully,” Mulder calls through the door. “Em’s done with her food. Do you want me to dress her?”

Sometimes he could be amazing.

“Yes, please,” she calls back through the door. “Her clothes are already out on the bed.”

They were out today, buying paint for Emily’s new room.

The decision to give Emily her own room came when Mulder’s parents moved out a year ago, leaving them the house. Initially, they were resigned to the basement and it had worked having Emily, still a newborn at the time, right beside them, not having to go far, everything they needed could fit downstairs with them and rarely did they have to bother anyone upstairs.

But Emily had began to grow, like any child does, and the being confined to the basement just wasn’t good enough for anyone anymore.

They didn’t have many options, too young and broke to even rent a place of their own at seventeen, they intended on just making do with the basement until their options widened.

Until one dinner time when Teena announced that a house just down the street had opened up and they were thinking of moving into that, giving their current house to Mulder.

The deal was they, along with Scully’s parents, would help them out until they were done with school, then it was down to them.

Well, school had ended and it was down to them to support themselves now. Mulder worked, Scully looked after Emily. It was old-fashioned but it worked and Scully saw no issue with it, for now.

College was to be postponed for another year, too. Wait until Emily was old enough to go into pre-school or be able to stay with her grandparents for more than however long the milk lasted. They would stay in Maryland, too, and hopefully figure the rest out at a later date.

Now, though, it was about decorating Emily’s new room.

The child hadn’t been excited about the prospect of her own room no matter how much Mulder and Scully tried to big it up to her, she liked Mommy and Daddy’s room, why couldn’t she stay there?

Scully hoped that by allowing her to pick the room design Emily would grow more keen to the idea.

She exits the bathroom, walking towards her bedroom and upon opening the door, she is greeted by a partially dressed Hurricane Emily.

“Mommy! Me and Daddy saw Cookie Monster when we eat our bagels.”

Sesame Street was currently Emily’s favourite show, her favourite character was the Cookie Monster and he is the reason Emily asks for cookies every morning.

Scully bends to pick Emily up, setting her on her hip and bringing her back over to bed where Mulder sits holding a pair of socks in his hand.

“When you ate your bagels, Emily,” Scully corrects, putting her down standing on the bed. There were no worries about Emily’s speech development, she was actually a very intelligent, having been able to string sentences together for a while now.

It had been something Scully had worried about at the beginning. Emily was a premature baby- a late premature baby, but one all the same- and while the probability of the risks presented to premature babies were low for her they were still risks all the same.

But aside from running out of breath a little quicker when she got excited, Emily was functioning as any other child, developing around the same average time as other children, there were no worries in that department.

She hadn’t quite mastered grammar yet, however.

“What did you see?” Scully asks Emily as she buckles up her dungarees and Mulder puts her socks on.

Emily proceeds to tell her how Elmo stole Cookie Monster’s cookies and Cookie got sad and then Elmo apologised and gave them back to him.

She’ll test her like this sometimes, make sure that she’s paying attention, taking in what she’s seeing on the TV.

“How did you know Cookie was sad?” Scully asks, another test.

“Um…” She watches as Emily tries to find the words for what she knows. “He…he…”

“He sat on his own, didn’t he?” Mulder says, helping her out.

Emily turns towards him at the sound of his voice, nodding her head quickly and turning back to Scully.

“He sat on his own and looked like this…” She does her best impression of a sad face that makes Scully laugh and melt at how adorable she looks.

“It’s not funny, Mommy!” Emily admonishes in a voice that sounds vaguely similar to her own when she tells Emily off for doing something she shouldn’t.

“You’re right,” Scully says, correcting herself. “It’s not funny.” She strokes her hand through Emily’s bed head. She still needs to get dressed and tackle Emily’s unruly hair and they don’t have a lot of time left before they need to leave.

“Why don’t you go back downstairs with Daddy and watch more Cookie Monster and I’ll get dressed, okay?”

Emily nods, climbing down from the bed and grabbing hold of Mulder’s hand.

“Come on, Daddy,” Emily says.

“I’ll need your strong muscles to pull me up, Em,” he says, pretending to struggle to get off the bed. “I’m getting too old.”

Scully rolls her eyes but she’s warmed by it all the same. Emily uses her “muscles” and pulls Mulder up and the two leave the room leaving Scully on her own.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Within the hour they have made it to Home Depot browsing the paint section while Emily happily babbles away Quacky in the cart.

Public outings were always something of a tense situation. When Emily was younger they received a lot of disdainful tuts, shaking heads, and a lot of stares. Scully had tried to ignore it but she never went anywhere with just Emily.

Now it was easier to bare. The stares still came but Scully learned not to care about them. She was happy, her baby was baby and that was all that mattered.

“I think yellow,” Scully says, beelining for the coloured paint.

“Why yellow?” Mulder asks.

She stares at him like he’s stupid. He is stupid.

“It’s her favourite colour,” she answers pointedly.

Mulder chuckles. “It’s your favourite colour, you mean.” He looks down at Emily who is happy in her own make-belief world.

“Emi, what’s your favourite colour?”

“Yellow,” the girl says without missing a beat.

An I told you so look appears across Scully’s face.

“Only because it’s your favourite colour,” Mulder mutters yet loud enough for Scully to hear it.

She’s about to grab the yellow paint before she clocks the white shades above it. She looks towards Mulder who snacks on sunflower seeds, an idea in her mind.

She pushes the tub back onto the shelf and Mulder looks at her questioningly. She ignores him, her attention on Emily.

“Emi,” she calls and Emily looks at her. “What if, instead of painting your room yellow, I painted it white and covered it in sunflowers?”

Emily nods, seemingly excited by that prospect. Sunflowers had become Emily’s favourite flowers ever since she found out Mulder eats the seeds. That had led to some very interesting conversations with Emily believing that if she ate a seed a sunflower would grow inside her. Instead they had planted it outside in the garden and once it was “all big” (as Emily had said) it would be her responsibility to care for it.

“And who’s going to draw these sunflowers?” Mulder asks.

“I will,” Scully says, grabbing two tubs of white paint, two tubs of yellow, a medium-sized tub of brown paint, and finally a smaller tub of green.

They buy fairy lights in another store and with Emily’s toddler bed on the way, she was looking forward to decorating the room.

They had the weekend to do it, with Maggie having Emily over for a sleepover. Scully had been cautious of the idea at first. Emily had only been over at her parents’ for a few hours and never had she stayed there (without Scully also there). This was going to be a first for all of them and Scully hoped Emily was going to be okay with it.

There was another thing that an Emily-free night would open up for Mulder and Scully, and Scully was still unsure whether her thoughts should venture down that path yet.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Bathing with Mommy had become something of a treat. Emily loves water and there had been plans to take her to the swimming baths one day for now, though, Emily is just happy playing in a bubble bath. It’s easier to bathe her like this, rather than Scully kneeling and leaning over the edge. They cuddle after all the cleaning is done until their skin has pruned in the warm water or until that warm water has gone cold.

“You excited to sleep at Grandma’s, baby?” Scully asks.

Emily nods but Scully isn’t convinced. Usually her baby was as happy as a clam in the bath, even happier if Scully was joining her, but tonight she had been quiet and subdued, not playing much with the bath toys and barely laughed when Scully booped her on the nose with shampoo. They were all signs that something wasn’t right.

“Can Quacky come?” Emily asks.

“Of course. You can take whoever you like.”

“Can I take you?”

So this is what’s up with her.

“Oh Emi,” Scully coos bringing her daughter closer to her. “You like Grandma, you’ll be fine without me.”

Still, Emily isn’t convinced.

“Want me to tell you a secret?” Scully says and that gets Emily’s attention.

“Grandma’s taking you to a Jungle Gym tomorrow.”

Emily’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yep. But you gotta act surprise when Grandma tells you that. She can’t know that I told you, okay?”

Emily nods, “I promise, I promise.”

It’s done the trick and Emily seems a lot happier.

Maggie knocks on the door at 7:30. Scully finishes getting the last of the diaper contents together before picking up Emily who’s just spent the last 40 minutes watching Sesame Street and receiving “the best head scratches” from Mulder- Review left by Emily Scully-Mulder.

“Ready to go, baby?” Scully asks, bending to pick her up.

“Bye-bye, Emi,” says Mulder, pressing a kiss to Emily’s head. “See you Sunday.”

Emily sleepily waves back to him as Quacky’s foot finds its way into her mouth.

“She’s had milk,” Scully says upon opening the door and after the greetings. She passes the diaper bag over this. “There’s another bottle in there if she fusses. “She’s been bathed so all you need to do really is put her to bed. She hasn’t napped today so she should be tired.” Maggie nods, holding her arms out and Scully is suddenly hesitant to hand Emily over.

“Um…she has cow’s milk in the morning, it’s called her big girl milk, if you call it anything else she won’t want to drink it.”

Another nod from Maggie.

“If there are any problems, call me, I’ll be over straight away.”

Another nod. “Dana?”

“Yes?”

“Can I take Emily now?”

Right, she was still holding her.

“Bye-bye, Baby. Have fun with Grandma.” Emily’s grip tightens on Scully and Scully whispers into her ear. “Remember the Jungle Gym.” Emily’s grip loosens and Scully is able to hand her over.

She watches them go, waving to Emily before her mom and daughter go out of sight.

She closes the front door praying Emily will be alright tonight.

When she re-enters the living room the channel has been switched to some movie on mute and Mulder is scribbling into a notepad.

She eyes him coolly and walks towards the couch, sitting down upon it cross-legged. She leans into him.

“What you doing?” she asks.

“Brainstorming campaign ideas,” he answers, still engrossed in the notebook and whatever he’s scribbling down. “Thinking of getting the boys down and doing another session.” He looks towards her before turning back to the book. “You’re free to join if you want.”

She nuzzles into his bare arm, smiling. “And what do we do with Emily?”

He shrugs. “She can play, too.”

Scully hums her eyes shutting as she continues to nuzzle finding herself quite content.

“It’s quiet without her, isn’t it?” Mulder almost whispers. His pencil has stopped moving and the room has gone quiet besides the occasional noise of the pipes.

It was quiet in a presence-lacking kind of way. Emily would be in bed by now but her presence would still linger in the room, would still wander the house reminding them that she was still here. Now she was gone for the night, that presence had gone with her.

“I just hope she’s good for my mom,” Scully says remembering how she had clutched onto her.

“She will be.” He closes the book, pushing it to one side and sits back against the couch, bringing his arm around her. Scully adjusts, uncrossing her legs and curling them beneath her to lean against him more comfortably. “She’s a good kid, Scully.”

Yes, she was. A few hiccups on some days but for the most part, Emily was a good, well-behaved kid.

She smiles. “Wonder where she gets that from?”

“I always assume from you.”

Scully snorts. “I doubt it. I was a terror with a speciality in running off.”

Mulder laughs. “Well, when Emily starts I’ll know who to blame.”

Scully giggles before taking a deep breath and sighing.

“So what do we do now?”

All day she had been trying to work out how to ask him. Tell him that she’s okay now, she’s ready, and that it won’t be like the first time they tried.

“Mulder, if you want…” she starts, trying to find the words. “We can try. I…I think I’m ready now.”

She doesn’t look at him so she doesn’t see the realisation of what she’s saying- trying to say- dawn on him. She hears it, though.

Oh.

“Well if you want to, Scully. I don’t want to feel like you’ve been pressured or-“

She looks up at him then to find him staring at her as she interrupts.

“No, it’s fine.” She hops up from the couch, quickly, intending on getting this awkward asking moment over with.

“Well, if you’re sure…” Mulder says, beginning to rise from the couch himself.

Yes, she’s sure because if he keeps asking she might not be.

There’s an awkwardness as they enter the bedroom. One would think they hadn’t done with this.

“So how do you-“ She’s on him, fast, allowing no time for gentle kisses, her lips are on his, her tongue in his mouth and her hands are already working on the button of his jeans.

A mantra in her head: I want this, I want this, I want this.

And Mulder is trying to keep up. He’s that awkward fifteen year old again when Scully threw herself at him in a similar manner, unsure of what to do with his hands, where to put them.

That encounter was quick, what was supposed to be a throwaway moment of drunken recklessness between two teenagers who had a house to themselves.

He doesn’t want this moment to be like that moment, and Scully knows that but any slowness, any moment that isn’t rushed and over with before her brain can start thinking has her doubting herself. I want this turns into I don’t know if I want this even if she knows deep down she does want this.

But Mulder doesn’t know that. Mulder doesn’t know about the inner struggle she’s currently having with herself and pulls away, halting her.

“Scully, stop.”

She stops and those first blossoming thoughts of doubt come blooming in.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he says and his hands are still around her shoulders holding her away from him. “We’re gonna have loads of times in the future.”

She swallows. “You don’t want this…” she says quietly looking towards the floor. She should leave, go to her mother’s and camp out there with Emily until Sunday as well.

“No, no.” He uses the hold he has on her shoulders to bring her into his embrace. “No, I want this more than anything. The question is, do you want it?”

She’s fighting his embrace.

“Yes, of course, why do you think-“

But he stills her by holding her tighter.

“Do you really want it?”

She stops trying to fight and thinks. She does. She does want it. She nods.

He brings her away from him and smiles and she smiles back.

The air around them stops feeling awkward and his eyes fall to her lip and slowly he presses them against hers. It’s slow and gentle, everything she didn’t want it to be seconds ago until his tongue is running along her lower lip and she parts them, allowing him in.

He sets the pace, still going slow just as their tongues greet each other. A surge of heat pools below and the pace hurries, whether from her or from Mulder, Scully has no idea but he bends lower, hands wrapping around her thighs as he hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist.

The kiss breaks only when he places her down on the bed. She watches as he pulls off his t-shirt, throwing it off to the side, before working on his jeans, finishing the job Scully started.

She follows his lead, taking off her sweater and leaving her in an unsexy-yet-very-comfortable cotton bra. She gives him a shy smile.

Clad in only his boxers now, he kneels before her, his hand soothing up and down her leg, the action comforting.

“You can keep it on if you’re worried you’ll leak.”

That had been what happened the first time. Too much stimulation on her breast and her milk had gone everywhere, not helping the already increasingly uncomfortable experience.

But Scully shakes her head, beginning to remove the item.

“It shouldn’t be so bad this time,” she says.

Mulder smiles, rising slightly to kiss her once. “Whatever works for you.” He resumes kissing her, letting him lay her down on the bedcovers.

Their tongues play with each other for a bit, picking up where the pace left off only moments before.

He breaks the kiss, proceeding downwards, sucking at the sweet spots he had found during their second time at this.

Mulder moves away from her neck, continuing his path. He stops when he gets to her breasts and nuzzles one of them.

“I love your tits.” He said that last time, too, but this time Scully feels like he actually means it.

“Perks of having babies, I guess.” She lets out a breathy sigh, closing her eyes as his tongue circles her nipple, her hand falling to his head and combing through his hair, so grateful to be able to finally feel something there again.

But then he latches on and begins to suck and oh no.

Her eyes dart open. “Mulder, you’ll-“ But it’s too late, a tingling sensation she’d been feeling lately whenever she nursed Emily is back and she knows what that means.

Mulder does, too, as his eyes widen and he begins to suck more eagerly.

She falls back, another sigh saying, “That’s Emily’s.”

Mulder unlatches, chin resting against her ribcage as he looks up at her.

“Emily’s not here.” And presses a kiss against the nipple.

Scully hums in agreement.

“I understand now why she gets so upset when you tell her she can’t have any.” He hovers above her. “I’d be freaking out, too.”

Scully just stares at him, deciding that he’s been talking too much.

“Mulder, shut up and fuck me.”

A shit-eating grin passes across his face. He gets down close to her ear and whispers.

“Okay, Mommy.”

She knees him in the ribs for that.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Scully, I’m curious to see these artistic skills you claim to have.”

Mulder stands in the middle of his childhood bedroom holding two tubs of white paint.

“I don’t claim to have any artistic skills.”

Scully takes one tub of paint away from him.

“You want to decorate the walls with sunflowers.”

She opens the tub up, grabbing a paint brush.

“They’re just sunflowers, Mulder,” she says beginning to dip the paint brush into the paint. “It doesn’t take an artistic genius paint them.” She starts on painting the wall.

They agreed that Emily would move into Mulder’s bedroom, it was bigger than Samantha’s and they felt that maybe Emily would be more at ease in there knowing that it had been her Daddy’s before hers.

“Are we even going to get this room painted in this weekend?” Mulder asks from across the room.

They split the walls- Scully would do the back wall and the window wall, Mulder would do the opposite wall and the wall nearest the door.

“No,” Scully answers. “I’m hoping we can get the walls finished before Em comes back but the sunflowers will have to be done another time.”

“Are you going to have the time to do them?” They had gotten Emily psyched up for the sunflowers and they both didn’t want to burst her bubble by not going ahead with them after all.

“Yeah, Emily can sit in the room while I do them or my mom can come over and watch her. It’s not like this where she’ll probably knock over the paint and get herself covered in it.”

That was the main reason why Emily had slept over at her mother’s in the first place. She couldn’t be trusted to just sit in a corner and play, she would get curious and when Emily gets curious it often leads to trouble.

Mulder chuckles, remembering something.

“Like when she was 18 months old and we let her play her in the garden and she decided she was going to take a mud bath instead?”

Scully groans at the memory which just makes Mulder laugh even harder. It had rained all day every day for a solid week and on the last day of that week the sun decided it was going to shine so they let Emily play outside (something she had wanted to do all week) What they didn’t realise was at the bottom of the garden a giant mud puddle at formed and, naturally, Emily had found it.

Mulder swore he only went inside to get some orange juice for two seconds and when he returned, Emily was covered head to toe in mud.

Scully wanted to die when she saw her whilst Mulder and Emily just laughed and Emily kept repeating pig and pointing to herself. Apparently she found out pigs take mud baths when they were too warm.

Mulder had only continued to laugh which had encouraged Emily more. She told Mulder to stay outside until he had calmed himself down and took Emily to the bathroom not knowing where to even start to clean her.

“You’re laughing but you weren’t the one who had to shower her,” Scully says, even after four months she doesn’t see the humour in it.

“I would’ve helped but you locked me outside.”

“Cause you were laughing and Emily thought that made it okay.”

Mulder shakes his head, not agreeing with her. “It was funny, though,” he mutters to himself.

As they paint they tell each other stories of Emily’s two years on with earth, reminding each other of little moments, telling each other of moments they might have missed. It’s a nice walk down memory lane, to see how far they’ve come as parents as they paint their daughter’s room and talk about their daughter.

They finally finish in the early hours of Sunday, three coats, and two empty tubs of white paint. The toddler bed was arriving later today and that meant dismantling the crib but that was a job for later, the only thing Scully wanted to do was sleep.

Emily returns around lunchtime, bursting through the front door shouting.

“Mommy! Daddy! Grandma taked me to Monkey Business!”

Scully laughs ignoring the questioning look her mother gives her and pulls Emily put onto her lap.

“Really?” she says with feign surprise. “Was it fun?”

Emily nods her head furiously. “And I cutted my finger, look.” She forces her finger in front of Scully’s face, almost taking an eye out. Scully laughs nervously, taking Emily’s little hand in her own and inspecting the band-aided finger.

“How did that happen?” Scully asks Maggie more than Emily.

“It’s just a paper cut but she insisted on me giving her a band-aid,” her mom tells her.

“I was brave. I didn’t cry.” Emily looks at her finger, running her other finger over it. “Is my sunflowers ready now?”

Scully strokes her hair. “Not yet, baby. We only had time to do the background but tomorrow, when Daddy’s at work, we can start on them and you can watch, yeah?”

Emily nods her head, pleased with that idea.

“Hey Em,” says Mulder catching Emily’s attention. “Just no paint baths, okay?”

Emily giggles, remembering the mud baths. “I promise,” in a voice that sounds like she doesn’t promise at all.

- - -

Thank you to everyone who’s read this and anyone who read it on ao3, too. You are amazing and I hope you’re satisfied with this ending :)

#txf #high school au #a baby is forever part 6 #COMPLETED FIC #teen pregnancy fic #i write

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years

Note

Awwww I love my tells!! Anyways. Write some absolutely raunchy filthy werewolf duncan breeding kink shit. You are so good at soft and feelings and making me weep. I wanna see you try something brash (like that dark Jim you did that makes me die? Yeah those vibes)

A/N: Hello 🌽I know you sent this a while ago, but I finally finished it. I hope you like it as much as you liked the Jim one! I think this is my first time writing werewolf!smut so I hope it’s not completely terrible. ILYSM.

Warning: smut, breeding kink

Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how Duncan was feeling. He could sense it in his bones, in his blood, in his being that the full moon was near. He was set off by littlest things that he thought it would be in everyones best interest if he just took the week off from work.

He groaned in the dark room, glancing over at the clock on his bedside table - 5:23 am.

Fuck, he thought. He felt too hot, too cold, too uncomfortable. A thin sheen of sweat formed in between his brows. He knew what he wanted. What he needed.

He looked over at Y/N who was peacefully sleeping besides him. She was always what he wanted; whether he was in this phase or not. The slight pout of her lips, the dips and curves of her body, her smell. All of it was driving him lunatic. Part of him knew he couldn’t wake her for this. But other part of him wanted to tear apart her little shorts and bury himself inside her.

She stirred and turned in her sleep, mumbling out little incoherent moans.

Duncan felt like he was being tested by having to listen to her airy sighs while in this condition. He tossed the sheets off his body allowing the cool air to hit his chest. His leaking cock was strained against his tight gray boxer-briefs. Duncan let out a shaky breath, as he ran his hand down his torso, slowly dragging it down his tummy. A hot shudder ran down his spine and he felt something inside him rumbling.

He wasted no time palming over his erection - he slipped his hand into his underwear and began to tug at his length. He tried to stifle his groans as his hips bucked into his palm. His blood ran hot, relishing in the way he squeezed and tugged at his palm, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get where he needed.

Duncan was in need of her wet walls hugging around his cock. He needed his seed to be deep inside her cunt. Flashes of the way she would wrap around him flooded his mind, making his let go of his cock in annoyance.

He took another look at his restful Y/N. How blissfully unaware she was of his current dilemma. Duncan climbed out of bed and trotted to their shared master bathroom. Turning on the cold water all the way on, he stripped down to nothing and stepped into the marble walk-in.

The cold water hit his skin soothingly. He stayed in the water for longer than really necessary. The coolness stung his skin deliciously, making his thought begin to clear. His dark hair began to curl under the shower head. He covered his face with his hands, shaking away the impulses that have been building. Or so he tried.

By the time he got out of the bathroom, she was already up for the day. He dried himself up and got dressed. Since he was staying home all day, he opted for a pair of black joggers and white t-shirt.

Walking into the kitchen, he found her sitting at the table, typing away on her computer, coffee mug at her side. Duncan wasn’t sure if it was the heat he was in, or the clothes she wore, but he wanted nothing more than to tear her out of it and devour her. Her white low cut top amplified the way her breast looked, her nipples poking through the thin material.

“Hey, babe.” she smiled easily. She stood up from her seat to greet him with a kiss. As soon as she was close enough, he pulled her in from the small of her back and crashed his lips to hers feverishly. She giggled against his lips at her eagerness, “Morning to you too,” she teased.

“Here let me get you some coffee,” she slipped out of his hold.

He took a seat, resting his chin on his hand, “Couldn’t sleep last night,” he yawned. Y/N stretched her arms over her head to reach a mug from the top shelf. Her shirt rode up her tummy, exposing her midriff. Duncan’s gaze was fixated on her. His eyes wandered down her chest, her waist, landing on her ass. He licked his lips wolfishly as he was in a trance by her body.

“Hello? Earth to Duncan?” she waved her hand in front of his eyes.

He didn’t think he could feel much hotter, but nonetheless, he felt heat rush to his face.

“Sorry, baby. You know what the cycle does to me.” he mumbled, pushing the mug of coffee she had brought away.

“Oh,” it was her turn to blush now. “Duncan,” she shook her head, “Why are you just now telling me?” she shook her head at her boyfriend. Y/N knew what to expect from Duncan before he turned.

She placed her hand over his for comfort, but it sent an electric shock through his body. He grabbed her wrist forcefully with one of his hands. “I’ve been so patient, baby. But these urges. Fuck. I need you.”

Y/N nodded to whatever it was he needed, “Please, Duncan. Anything. I’m all yours.”

Those little magic words. She was his and they both knew it. He wanted nothing more than to mark her as his. Make her be his. He wanted his name chanted from her lips.

He stood up, feeling a bubbling sensation in his stomach, “All mine.” he pulled her up and took her to their room.

Duncan roughly tossed her on the bed, making her bounce lightly as she hit the mattress. He kicked off his pants and shirt before hovering above her. He rutted his hips into hers, making her feel his painfully hard erection against her.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked as he began to mark up her neck with love bites.

“Yes,” she sighed, exposing more of her neck to him. She loved this side of Duncan. Seeing a calculated man, turn to animalistic; acting on his impulses and urges for her made her panties pool with arousal.

“Good,” he crashed his lips to hers, “Because I’m about to fuck you like a don’t” he sank his teeth into her bottom lip, pulling it back to make her whimper.

“Please, Duncan. Use me.” she begged, her voice shaky, her thought clouded by his large hands ripping apart her clothes.

In an impassioned rush, Duncan freed them of their clothes. He aligned his aching cock with her wet cunt, letting his head graze over her folds, slicking himself with her wetness.

“Hm,” he rasped out, “So fucking wet for me.” he held down her hip with his left hand and slammed down inside her.

She gasped as he stretched her open. She felt his girthy cock pulsing within her. Duncan drilled inside her until he was hip to hip with her; she engulfed his entire length.

Finally feeling what he needed, Duncan stayed inside her, not daring to move an inch, letting her adjust to the size for a minute. Y/N’s mind was dizzy.

“Your little cunt takes me so well,” he sloppily kissed the words into her mouth. “You were made to have me inside you.”

Duncan lifted his hips and hissed at the cool air hitting his wet shaft as it came out of her pussy.

He began to rapidly pump in and out of her. He let his instincts take over as he fucked her into the mattress. The airy moans she had made in her sleep were now freely falling from her lips. “Duncan, Duncan, Duncan,” she whined. She attempted to bite down on her lip to keep from pathetically moaning his name.

Duncan grabbed her right breast, snaking his hand up to be around her throat. “Let me hear you,” he growled, squeezing down on her neck slightly.

She gasped feeling his hand tighten around her throat. Her pussy clenched around him, throbbing around his hard cock. Duncan began mimicking the way she hugged his member with his hand. He squeezed and released at the same pace her cunt squeezed around him.

“My perfect little doll.” his thumb pried open her lips. She wrapped her lips around his thumb and sucked on it. She felt her saliva connecting to his finger.

“Daddy, please.” she begged. At this point. Y/N was unsure of what she was begging for. Her whole body was on fire. Every part of her craved Duncan.

“Please what?” he slammed down hard, keeping her pinned by his hips, “Please fuck a baby into you?” he rolled his hips. “Is that what you want, Y/N?” he licked a stripe up her neck before biting back on her lip. He noticed his teeth mark, slowly turning them a slight shade of purple.

“Mhm,” she let out a strangled agreement, the sweat making her hair stick to her face.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he let out a white hot release into her pussy. Duncan pressed his hips forward, not wanting an ounce slip out of her. Grabbing her face as her pussy milked his cock for all he had to offer, he slipped his tongue in her mouth, softly running it over hers. As they parted from each other, a trail of saliva followed their parting lips.

Her arms went around Duncan’s body, grabbing on to his ass and pushing him deeper. Y/N’s legs began shaking; Duncan’s cock stay almost completely still - the only movement coming from Duncan’s heavy breathing.

Duncan slowly slipped out of her, grabbed himself by the base of his cock and began to rapidly rub her clit with his pink head. She trembled and spazzed underneath him as her orgasm hit.

Duncan cleaned Y/N up, peppering kisses up her thighs as he did. She always did so good for him. His desire to mate had be satiated for now. He peeked up at her from between her thighs, sleepy smile on her face. “Come here,” she whined. He chuckled as he made his way up her body, meeting her with a quick kiss on her lips.

“Feeling better?” she combed his hair back from his face.

“Much,” he closed his eyes as she softly pet his head.

“Next time you can - should - wake me up, Duncan.” she scratched at his head lightly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, his lips already attaching to her breasts.

#🌽anon #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd x reader #house of cards #hoc #werewolf!duncan #cody fern #ahs #spooky season #hi i still suck at endings #Anonymous

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unnecessarygayfeelings · 4 years

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Finished my Farafey fanficton! Here’s a link to it on ao3, but I know not everyone uses that, so I’ll post it here under the read more. No content warnings (there’s a small mention of alcohol, but no one is intoxicated), just 2k words of fluff. This is for the Farafey micronation especially @aquilamage because she has epic content that inspires me a lot.

Lavender Lip Gloss

It was new year's eve and Kay was going to be late to the party because her roommate was hogging the bathroom.

Kay should be used to this, really. Ever since she and Sebastian decided to rent an apartment together at the ripe old age of nineteen, she became well aware of her friend's quirks. But she could handle the misplaced pens, loud classical music, and endless pacing at ungodly hours of the night. She would be a hypocrite if she judged him, though. Half of the pens they owned were probably on her desk, and in the early mornings she liked to sing her favourite pop songs in the shower. They argued about who was the cause of their the noise complaints every time they received one.

They've been roommates for years now. Kay was used to Sebastian's habits... except for one.

"Seb, leave the goddamn door open when you're just fixing your hair! I need the hairspray!"

It took a long time for Sebastian to break the habit of placing barriers between them when it wasn't necessary (Kay had grown up in a home with open doors and open hearts; she wants the same for Sebastian), and eventually he stopped locking the door behind him every time he entered a room. Kay respected Sebastian's need for privacy. But she also respected their friendship, and that's why she knew that what she was about to do was not only expected, but acceptable in their tiny apartment. She took a step back, lifted her leg and opened the door with one swift kick.

There was a high-pitched yelp from Sebastian, who had styling gel on his hands, a strand of hair sticking up on his head, and an unimpressed expression on his face as he saw Kay's triumphant smile. "I-I was almost done!"

"You always say that, and then you end up taking another thirty minutes," Kay replied, grabbing her hair spray and securing her high ponytail right there. Sebastian's face scrunched at the smell. She sprayed a little bit of the product in his hair, too. They both laughed, doing the finishing touches on both of their party looks together.

After a final once-over from each of them ("The green button-up was a good choice, right, Kay?" "Yeah, but what about this silver skirt?"), they were ready to go to the new year's party. It was at Miles's house this year, and if they both weren't used to bothering him at every location possible, it might have felt a bit weird to party at the boss's place.

When they arrived at Miles's house, the host himself greets them. Although he does look genuinely pleased to see them, his smile turns strained when Kay tells him to "prepare for trouble, and make it double". While Sebastian is making small talk with Edgeworth, Kay lets her mind trail elsewhere— to the reason she was so eager to get to the party in the first place.

Maya Fey had been in Kura'in for a while now. Despite their friendship being long-distance, they were still very close. Their bond was just as strong as Kay's with Sebastian, although she felt very different about Maya than him. Kay's heart soared every time her phone dinged with a new message. She circled dates on the calendar with a violet marker whenever they planned to video chat. The time difference was brutal, but Kay would gladly stay up late just to hear Maya's voice.

"Waiting for s-someone special?" Sebastian's teasing voice broke Kay out of her thoughts. She hadn't even realized that Miles was long gone. The only one next to her was her best friend, who was looking extra smug. Of course Sebastian knew about her crush. He was the one Kay would go to at one in the morning, bombarding him with texts and asking him if he thought there was a deeper meaning to them. The deeper meaning, he would tell her, is that you both like each other and it's only a matter of time before one of you make a move. He was being ridiculous, of course. Just because Maya called her pretty and laughed a little too loud at her jokes and had a purple heart emoji next to her contact name didn't mean anything.

Okay, it definitely meant something, but Kay wasn't going to take the first step and confess or anything because... she was shy. Ugh. She wasn't used to being shy. Sebastian was the shy one, not her. But Kay hadn't seen Maya in person in what felt like forever (it had been six months), so who knows. Maybe she would make a move.

"Hey, there she is!"

Kay's head shot up, pure enthusiasm with a twinge of anxiousness filling her whole body. She looked to where Sebastian was pointing, and there she was.

Maya Fey was here. Maya Fey was looking around the room. Maya Fey was making eye contact with her. Maya Fey was walking towards her.

"Hey!" Maya Fey's voice sounded so much more real when it wasn't through a speakerphone, all light and chipper. Kay wasn't sure how she'd survive the night, let alone make a move.

"Hi, Maya!" Sebastian greeted, holding out his arms and allowing a brief hug. Maya showed her affection through touch: high fives, hair ruffles, and hand holding. Kay was the same which was one of the reasons why their long distance communication was difficult. You couldn't embrace someone through a screen.

Then Maya turned towards her, arms outstretched, and Kay found herself being pulled in like a magnet. Maya's hugs were warm and welcoming. She didn't miss how they both lingered, the hug lasting many seconds longer than a hug Kay would have with any other friend, even Sebastian. But eventually they had to (slowly) pull away.

"It seems like forever since I've seen you!" Maya exclaimed, looking up at Kay with a big grin. "You look great! I love your skirt!"

Kay's brain seemed to short-circuit. Maya was wearing a cute pink party dress and her long hair was in its usual style, decorated with sparkly hair clips. Her lips were shiny with a purple gloss. It was a light shade, like lavender. Was this weird, just staring at her lips? She needed to respond before it got weird. "Thanks! I love your lip gloss!"

Okay, so now Maya had solid proof that she was staring at her lips. Oops. But Maya just smiled at her. "Haha, thanks! Do you guys want a drink? I saw Miles bought the good champagne."

Had he? Kay didn't even notice. Sebastian nods and then a minute later Maya is offering her a drink. Kay takes the glass, and tries not to think about the brush of Maya's fingers against hers too much.

Conversation is easy. Maya asks what they've been up to since the last time they talked. Kay feels like this question is more for Sebastian, since her and Maya just talked this morning on the phone. Sebastian tells her about his latest case (not a murder, thankfully), and Kay includes details from her perspective as the detective assigned. She's sure she had mentioned this case to Maya before, but Maya seems very interested anyways.

When they ask what news Maya has, she perks up tremendously. "I've finally mastered the bowl without falling on my face!"

Recently, Maya has taken up skateboarding while in Kura'in. Pearl has been the one teaching her; she was very talented, and had a cool skateboard with a flame design on the sides. Kay had been blessed with many cute selfies of Maya in her skating gear (lavender knee and elbow pads, and a florescent pink helmet that could probably blind a person if they stared too long at it) and ten second clips of her skating around in sunglasses, striking poses at the camera. Maya was a beginner but she refused to give up, despite the constant complaining of bumps and bruises from falling all the time.

"Really?" Kay gasps. She's received many texts about the bowl, and according to Maya it was one of the most difficult things to master in her life. ("It's harder than channeling spirits, Kay! Stop laughing, it's the truth!") Kay had never skateboarded before so she felt like she couldn't judge but it certainly didn't look easy.

Maya quickly pulls her phone out of her dress pocket. "Let me show you. Pearly got it on tape! Proof that I'm not making it up to sound cool or anything."

Kay believed her. Maya wouldn't need to make stuff up to sound cool. She unlocked her phone (Kay felt herself blush at the lockscreen— it's a selfie that they had taken the last time Kay was in Kura'in, a trip that was impulsive and expensive but she didn't regret it one bit) and pulled up a video of Maya on top of the bowl. Pearl can be heard off-camera shouting encouragement. Then Maya adjusts her helmet, balances herself on her board, and slides down the bowl in one swift movement. She skids to a stop once she's on the ground. The last thing they hear before the video cuts out is Maya and Pearl screaming with excitement.

"That's so cool!" Kay exclaims, genuinely impressed.

Sebastian's eyes are nearly bugging out of his head. "Whoa! You look like a pro-professional skateboarder!"

"Yeah, this makes all the times I fell down on my butt worth it," Maya says, grinning from ear to ear. They talk some more before Maya goes to mingle with an old friend.

"Hey, do either of you know where Nick is? I want to bug him before the year ends."

Sebastian points Phoenix out across the room, where he is currently distracted by his daughter Trucy pulling an comically long scarf out of the tiny pocket on her blouse. A mischievous smile, a wave of her hand, and Maya's off.

There's a brief silence as they watch Maya leave. Sebastian turns to Kay with the same shit-eating grin he has when he's about to say something clever. "Kay? I diagnose you with gay. Lesbianism, if you want to be specific."

Kay groans. "I know, I know."

"Well, it's clear that she likes you, too, so I don't see what the con-conundrum is."

Kay believed that she was a relatively logical person. Her field of work made use of that trait, tested it. And now she was being presented with more evidence and a restless witness. The pieces fit together perfectly— Maya Fey liked her. The only question was what she going to do with this information.

"Was I... obvious about it?"

Sebastian raises his eyebrow. Takes a long sip of of his drink. "Is that a trick question?"

Not everyone Mr. Edgeworth invited was at the party, but the house is noisy regardless. Friends and acquaintances are talking in groups, there's music coming from an unknown source, the television is playing a new year's special, and Kay's heart is beating up a storm. Despite all of the activity, Kay thinks her heart is the loudest thing in this place.

Sebastian is tapping his fingers against the table next to them. Another noise, although it's muffled by the black gloves he's wearing. "Well, I know you don't like champagne."

Kay looks down at the drink Maya gave her, still full. The condensation from the glass mixes with the sweat on her palm. The feeling of Maya's hand brushing against hers lingers.

In the distance, Maya nudges Phoenix roughly in the side, and his drink splashes on his shirt. Maya laughs and then points at the stain, exclaiming loudly that it kind of looks like the Blue Badger. Phoenix seems to push his annoyance aside to carefully examine his sleeve. Maya calls other people over to look, a light yet determined expression on her face, and Kay can feel herself fall a little more in love.

...

The flashy countdown screen on the TV lights up, signaling the last minute of the year. Kay smiles and swirls the untouched champagne in her glass. She's lost in the way the tiny bubbles cling onto the sides of the cup until something distracts her. Or more accurately, someone.

"Hey," Maya says, placing her own glass on the table in front of them.

"Hey," Kay echoes back intelligently. She places her glass next to Maya's as her friend (she ignores the tightening in her chest when she calls her that; she's not sure there's a single word in this world to describe what Maya is to her) sits down next to her.

There's a moment of silence between them. Maya smells like jasmine and nostalgia. Kay wants to look but she's glowing like the sun, so she decides to play it safe and stare ahead. She sees Sebastian and Klavier talking about something, but she can't concentrate enough on their voices to know the topic.

Maya's voice snaps Kay out of her trance. "Happy new year."

For a split second, Kay thinks she miscounted the seconds, and missed the celebration. She checks the television quickly, and sighs with relief. "You're about thirty seconds too early, but I appreciate your enthusiasm." Then she had to use all of her strength to resist the urge to kick herself for sounding so weird.

"Oh." Cheeks flushed red for sure, Kay risks a glance at Maya. She doesn't regret it. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing Maya smile. "Happy new year's eve, then?"

She barely pulls herself together before responding in a passably-normal-although-probably-too-eager tone. "Yeah! Happy new year's eve!"

Maya laughs at that, and Kay can physically feel her heart soar. She knows it's bad to look at the sun but she can't help it, and within seconds she's pretty sure she could map out all the freckles on Maya's face. Kay stares too long to pass as normal and she knows it. But Maya is staring, too.

"TEN SECONDS!" Kay doesn't recognizes whose enthusiastic yelling the voice belongs to, but she doesn't even bother tearing her eyes away from Maya.

Ten.

Maya is sitting so close to her that their thighs are touching. How did Kay not notice that until now?

Nine.

Maya hesitantly reaches over and touches Kay's hand with her own.

Eight.

Her hand is shaking slightly. It's sweaty, too. Kay doesn't complain. She's probably the same.

Seven.

Kay curls their fingers together. She can't seem to stop smiling.

Six.

There's no denying it. The walls between them tumble down to reveal something a bit more than friendship, a bit more than just simple attraction.

Five.

Kay wants to say something, anything, but she's been rendered speechless. She's pretty sure she looks ridiculous. Ridiculously lovestruck.

Four.

Maya's other hand reaches over to brush Kay's hair out of her face, and her touch lingers near her cheek.

Three.

There's a line that they haven't neared, trying to maintain their friendship. Maya is standing at the edge of it, threatening to cross over.

Two.

Maya tilts her head, leans in, and closes her eyes. Kay can't hear the music over her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

One.

Kay closes her eyes, leans in, and unconsciously holds her breath.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Their lips met, and Kay smudges Maya's lavender lip gloss.

#farafey #maya fey #kay faraday #yes aquilamage i was the writing team anon AND playlist anon. sorry for constantly being on anon in your inbox i am unfortunately v shy haha #but i finally have content!!! whoop whoop #ace attorney fanfiction #personal

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angelkurenai · 5 years

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Hurricane - Dean Winchester x Reader (Detective AU) - Part 12

Title: Hurricane

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 5,511

Warnings: Almost Smut, Nudity

Summary: With one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ansure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. & Based on: Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here! l Read Part 5 here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here! l Read Part 9 here! l Read Part 10 here! l Read Part 11 here!

“He hasn't come back yet?” Sam's voice on the computer made you look up from your phone and you shook your head.

“No, and it's already very late.” you glanced out of the window to see that indeed the darkness had set in for good “He keeps checking in every 15 minutes but I-” you stopped yourself, biting your lower lip and the younger Winchester gave you a soft knowing smile.

“Can't help but worry for the rest of the 14.95 minutes about him.” he nodded his head at his own words and you huffed, looking down at your hands.

“Stop that.” you grumbled and he grinned.

“Stop what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“That. You act like you know everything about my feelings because they- they are obvious like a neon sign in the darkness to the entire world but your brother.” you pursed your lips like a little kid when you heard your best friend laugh with you.

“Well, I wasn't gonna say but-” he shrugged with a fond smile “It is kinda true. Dean wouldn't realize it even if a truck him right in the face. I can't even count the times I've had to third-weel for the two of you and all of that flirting still has not led to a date.” he shook his head, leaning back in his seat.

“Speaking of which-” you chewed on your lip, glancing once more at your phone “I uh I met... Jack this morning and he said some things about Dean that got me thinking.”

“And had you feeling a certain kind of way too, maybe?” he smirked and you glared at him as hard as you could master “I know Jack very well to not even ask what he's spilled.” his smile got softer, no longer teasing you "But if you ask me (Y/n)... you shouldn't put your whole life on hold because you- you assume things are just happening in your mind. You-you don't have a reason to hide it anymore or to forever wait hopelessly in love with the man to tell him what you feel.”

“You say this as if I even have a chance with him, Sam.” you scoffed, trying not to let your hopes get up.

“And you say this as if you don't!” he looked at you in disbelief “(Y/n), he kissed you just two days ago! You told me that yourself, how can you forget that?”

“Yes because I was having a panic attack and he didn't know how to get me back to my senses but that was all!” you couldn't help but feel your heart drop at the thought “I- We talked about it Sam, that very night. He didn't- he said there were no feelings behind it, only him doing his job. He made it clear it meant nothing. So there, I don't think there is much of a chance after all.”

“Wh-what?” he blinked, eyebrows raised in surprise “That idiot, what was he- No, (Y/n), you gotta hear me out! I know my brother, and trust me when he is with you or- or even talks about you it's so much more different than it is with any other woman! Do you think he'd go to such extents to protect you if you weren't that important to him?”

“As a friend, probably! Family even, but let's be honest Sam, if he really wanted something more he'd- he'd have made a move or at least told me something.” you shook your head “Flirting is- it's what Dean does and even if he wants a casual night with me I'm- I'm not up for it. I want something serious and he doesn't, he never does. I don't blame him but I can't keep waiting or trying for something that will just never happen. I- I know I could try but gosh Sam I've hurt enough as it is with the entire case, both physically and mentally, and my heart is or most part in one piece.” you rambled as all your friend could do was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were trying so desperately to convince yourself, though, because sadly Sam wasn't saying it clearly how Dean felt (you partially understood it wasn't his job to) but you were growing impatient at the same time when thinking about that almost-kiss and what it could mean.

“You-” he let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair “You two are seriously the world's biggest idiots!”

“Why would you say-” before you could fully question him though your phone buzzed and you didn't even have the chance to blink before you reached fast for the device to read Dean's message.

You heard Sam scoff and mumble to himself something that sounded like “Not in love my ass.” but you didn't question it.

“He- wow.” you breathed out with wide eyes “He found him, Sam! He- Chuck's in town and he will be for a couple days, he says he's sent you the adress?”

“Yeah, I got it. I'm not far away... what is it?” he question with a frown when he heard you snicker.

“Oh uh nothing, it's just-” you giggled “He says he's in desperate need of lots and lots of beers right now to forget the 60-year-old woman he had to hit on.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Why did I even ask? Anyway- Tell him it's better if he returns immediately to your motel room, the less he's out there, the better. It won't take me long to get there and I'll keep an eye out all the time.”

“Alright then, please drive safe.” you whispered and he gave you a nod and warm smile.

“Will do.” he nodded his head “And for the love of, (Y/n), just listen to me for once.”

“Sam” you sighed softly but he gave you a stern look.

“I'm serious. I'm sick and tired of you two pinned over each other and crushing harder than a pair of 12-year-olds and I swear if I see you doubt what he feels about you once more, I'm going to lock you in a room until you've figured it out! Hell, even Jack knows and you keep refusing it's a thing but I swear to you, I'm going to keep up my promise if you so much as dare to deny it once more!”

“O-ok I'll think about it. I will, I promise!” you nearly raised your arms in surrender. Fed-up Sam was the most scary Sam you had seen so far.

“You better.” were the last words he breathed out to you before you were left in silence. You still weren't sure about Sam taking Dean's place on keeping an eye out for Chuck, in case he left his motel, because it wouldn't make much of difference if Amara found any Winchester in the town, she'd instantly know you were all there.

But some selfish part of you worried about Dean's well-being a little more, not to mention him catching some shut eye. You'd heard more than plenty from his nightmare the previous night, along with all of the pacing he'd done, and in more than a few messages he hinted that he felt worn out. That, along with the nagging feeling you had ever since that peck made you want him to get back as soon as possible to test the waters of... whatever relationship you had going on.

“As if you didn't enjoy it! ;)” you typed the reply and with a sigh got up from the chair to make your way to the bathroom. You wished that after a relaxing bath everything would be calm, at least for one night, and you could get the chance to relax and... hopefully forget about the outside world with Dean. Hopefully.

~*~

Walking into the motel room an involuntary sigh escaped Dean's lips. He placed the plastic bags on the sole table in the room and his eyes did a once over of the entire place in search of your figure. For a second he tensed up when he didn't see you around, he took a few long strides and frantically almost now looked around. It wasn't until he heard some shuffling come from the door to his left that he realized he had not thought of the most obvious of all.

Taking a step towards the bathroom he only found himself freezing in his tracks. He knew he should have immediately turned around and pretended he had not seen a thing but his body refused to listen to whatever logical part of his brain was left anymore. For some reason he was reminded of his dream not too long ago and he felt even more compelled to stand there.

The door was slightly ajar, letting him have just the right view inside the bathroom were you had just started getting dressed after a shower. While it was comforting that you were just fine, it wasn't comforting to realize the kind of effect you had on him.

He felt like some sort of weirdo, a creep like the kid he'd caught looking at you through the window of your room all that time ago, but at least in his defence he didn't get off on it or made a habit out of it, not to mention that he knew you. Plus, he didn't do it on purpose. He had only stumbled upon it and he just couldn't pull away from you. But that was a fact from the very beginning: Being so drawn to you. The attraction first to your appearance and very soon to your character had been undeniable from the first moment and if things were different he'd already have taken you out on more than plenty of dates, if you had said yes that is. It didn't help at all that he had spent so much time thinking about the kiss you had shared not so many hours ago or that almost kiss previously the same day, practically had his mind consumed with you.

All in all, it was different – well, he couldn't lie to himself – he was in love with you and he hoped and wished that you felt the same even in the least bit.

He watched the drops of water slide down from your still wet hair to your bare back he felt like he ran out of breath. His eyes watched the way your muscles flexed as you patted your body with a towel, trying to dry most of the water. You were standing all but naked, save for the pair of panties you had on, and he would be lying if he said his eyes didn't skip over your every curve and edge once or twice so that he could take everything in and remember it. He was so tempted to just push the door open and help you, no matter the form or direction that ended up going to. He almost felt his fingertips tingle with the need to touch you.

He was so caught up between admiring you and trying to understand the plethora of emotions swimming through his body that he didn't even realize it when you managed to put on a pair of pants and a shirt and were getting so much closer to him. He didn't even have the time to react when-

“Dean” your voice held so much relief, as if you hadn't noticed how awkward he was being only half a second ago trying to pretend he hadn't been standing there or as if you did know but chose to ignore it completely. Your shoulders relaxed instantly and an easy smile formed on your lips “I was going to wait for you but I seriously felt like my clothes were going to stick to my skin for good very soon so I couldn't-”

“S-Sure after everything that happened you needed something to help you relax...” he trailed off, almost cursing at himself for how unsure he sounded.

“Yeah, I mean, I had some serious thinking to do as well. So I suppo-” but you stopped mid-sentence and it was then he cursed under his breath. You studied him for a bit and after a moment your smile fluttered and your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You reached out and grabbed his arm before he could get away.

“Dean?” Oh how it made him weak on the knees to hear you say his name. You didn't do so often and it was such a shame he realized in that moment.

“Dean?” it was a whisper this time and it distracted him even further in all the bad possible ways that he certainly couldn't afford at the moment “Is everything alright? Something wrong?”

“Apart from the fact that we're hiding from a psycho? No I wouldn't say much.” he cleared his throat, his eyes flying over your form for a second or two and it was possibly the worst decision he could make. Given that your face was flushedbecause of the hot shower, your hair still wet and even your clothes just a bit in a far too sinful way because he couldn't help but want to help you dry up in more than one ways. He hurried to add “I've gotten burgers in case you're hungry. And uh pie, which I know you li-”

“Dean” and there it was again and it made a lump form in his throat. He felt your fingers on his chin, only two fingers slowly turning his face in your direction without even the slightest of protests, but then again you could shift his entire world with just a look “Tell me.”

His eyes did another once over but this time focused on your face where he noticed a familiar, soft and calm look of understanding there. You smiled a bit, taking a step closer as if you weren't already significantly close but who needed to breathe anyway? Certainly not Dean at that moment.

“Alright then, I will tell you.” you slid your hand up his arm “About what I've been thinking about. About what... we haven't really talked about yet and I-” you looked up to meet his eyes again “I want to. Without any lies or hiding anymore. Just a straight answer, don't care if it hurts me. But no lies.”

“Wh-what about?” his voice was getting lower and it made it harder for you to focus.

You licked your lips, not knowing it had the same if not worse effect on him. His eyes followed the line of your tongue and you could hardly fight a small smile of your own when you whispered “What Jack said.” your eyes locked and he stiffened more, if possible “Was it true?”

“Is that the kind of thinking you've been doing in the shower?” he softly and barely raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged glancing away for a mere moment “Would you prefer I was doing some kind of... other thinking? Or maybe something else aside from showering?”

His breath got caught in his throat. There was no mistaking the way your lips curved up into a very flirty smirk, the kind that he'd given you plenty of times before, and there was no doubting the words you said. You had never been more bold than that and it did catch him by surprise in a good way.

“Maybe.” he asked instead, shrugging before licking his own lips “Depends.”

You held his gaze for a few more seconds, your hand slowly sliding up to his chest and up his flannel where your fingers toyed with the collar of his flannel “On?”

It took him some time to reply simply because of how focused he was on your lips - or was it how kissable they looked at the moment? Then again, they always did. Mustering all the confidence he could, although still with hazy eyes said “Me being the focus of your attention the entire time?”

“Why detective-” you grinned easily, leaning closer to him “Don't you know?” he expected you to mock him a bit, tease him but he didn't get any of it. Instead he felt your fingers light as a father trace up his jaw, to his cheekbones before combing through his hair, sliding to the back of his head and tugging softly “I can't take my mind off you... no matter where my hands end up wandering.”

His head was tilted so that was only inches away from yours, your forehead almost leaning against each other's so you heard the sharp intake “You seem rather comfortable talking about it. Do you do that often?”

“Hm that's a secret you'll have to do some more serious interrogation to get out of me, detective. Besides-” you glanced down at his lips “How often do you do it?”

“Are you that interested to know?” was it audible? He had no idea.

“More than I'd care to admit out loud.” you gave him a small shrug and smirk.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

“Why... what? Why can't I admit it out loud or... why do I do it in the first place? Because if it's the second one then-” you were almost pressed against him and he'd give anything to press you against the wall in addition “I'm sure you can think of a reason or two.” your voice had dropped to a lower seductive tone and he was barely holding back a sound in his throat that, he was sure, wouldn't sound anywhere near human. Especially with how your eyes roamed over him. He didn't know just how much thinking you had done and for what reason but he didn't want to complain.

“But that's something we were supposed to talk about later.” your voice, softer brought him back to reality again “I asked a question and I did mean it. Seriously... I want to know if it was indeed true.”

“Why?” it came out in a raspy voice, almost frowning “Why do you want to know so much?”

“Is it not obvious? Has it not been from the beginning? I- I know what I've said in the past could be taken both ways but... I told you I did some thinking. Some serious thinking.” you murmured “Besides, what difference will it make if you know the reason?”

“It will, to me yes it will.” it was him who got closer “And you said it: no lies. Yet I'm not getting the full truth here. Tell me why do you really want to know?”

You shrugged a bit, your face burning but no point in backing down now. Taking a deep breath you watched as his own other free hand slid up your bare arm and he took gentle hold of your chin to make you look at him even though you weren't far from it. You let him rub his thumb on your cheek for a second, slowly drifting to your lower lip.

“For the same reason as you.” you whispered, not missing the way his shoulders relaxed. He held your gaze. Not so many words in a simple sentence that meant a million things, a million feelings. For the same reason he wanted to know why Jack's words mattered to you. A reason that was only-

“It was.” his voice came out more confident than before and he took a deep breath as if finally able to breathe “I-it was. You're right, it was. I- I'm– I'm a fool for you, an absolute and total fool for you.”

“What-” you started, the two words he repeated having surprised you but if only for a couple seconds. It was when realization set down on you maybe a bit harder than you had initially expected.

“It was true. What Jack said, everything he said was true.” it was like you could hear it. And even more, everything everybody else said was indeed true

Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes all-but-widened. Two words that meant so much more than you could ever possibly comprehend. He had never been so open about it and so sincere, more than you had ever seen him before (if it was possible at least) and above all more scared than ever. He looked almost shy about it, at first, but then you realized he too was holding his breath after the words left from his lips. Maybe he had been unable to stop them, maybe he was speaking from his heart and couldn't stop it, maybe he wanted you to know but not yet and maybe... there were a thousand possibilities. You could think about them all you wanted but truth was it would take forever and you had obviously lost far too much valuable time thinking about what could and couldn't be instead of just going for it.

“A-are you going to say someth-” he started, making you realize you had been silent for a bit too long.

“Good.” you cut him off, voice a bit shaky “G-good to know.”

It wasn't what he expected to hear so it did make him frown but when he parted his lips ready to speak, no words came out. Instead every sound was muffled by the pair of your own lips on his. The gasp that left when you took hold of the collar of his flannel and pressed yourself as close as possible to him was simply adorable. You had probably taken the both of you by surprise because this was no kiss fueled by some sort of emergency and it was no kiss happening by mistake. Despite the both of you being in a life or death situation, for lack of better words, this was a kiss happening for entirely different reasons.

Just to wipe out any doubt you might have he started kissing back with just as much passion only three seconds later. A soft laugh came from you when his hands found your middle soon followed by a yelp when he took hold of your thighs and lifted you up with ease. His lips were much more firm against yours. His tongue brushed over your lower lip and you parted your lips to give him full entrance. His tongue was hot on yours and it tasted like coffee. You let him have his way, enjoying it all along, as his wet lips hungrily devoured yours. The low moan that he gave you when you caught his lower lip between your teeth made you grin. You nibbled on it, making him push you harder against the wall and getting a giggle from you.

He kissed you fully on the lips again, stealing your breath away. His tongue was no more gentle as before, if anything it seemed quiet the opposite. “Something tells me-” you panted when he pulled just an inch away “You've been looking forward to this?”

“Don't you know?” he asked in a gruff voice, his lips leaving a wet trail of kisses down your neck. Pushing you against the wall you arched your hips forward, earning a moan from him.

“Figured.” you bit your lip, shuffling to get the jacket off his shoulders “So that's why you've been staring at me through the open door huh?” you grinned when he froze for a moment. You leaned closer to his ear “What, detective?” you kissed it “Thought I wouldn't notice? Then why do you think I put on a small show for?” you trailed your lips down to his neck.

His shoulders relaxed and a deep chuckle made his chest rumble “Seriously, best kind of thinking you've ever done, sweetheart.”

“Life's too short. And I wasted too much time overthinking. I wanna act on it now. But you can thank Jack for it later.” you grinned and he chuckled.

“Besides, don't worry. You're definitely taking me out too but for now- I'm not holding back.” you huffed, trying to get him rid of his flannel as well. He pulled just a bit away, helping you but still giving you a raised eyebrow “What? You saw more than plenty before. It would be only fair.”

“It would, yes. Also-” he let go of you to stand on your feet to, much to your pleasant surprise, pull his black T-shirt over his head “All that for me? How considerate. I might have to repay you for that. What kind of services would you like this time m'am?”

“I can think of something. Can't you?” you grinned, hooking your fingers through the hem of his jeans and pulled him closer to you. His eyes widened once more in surprise but chuckled nonetheless.

“Maybe I could.” his voice was more rough, the look on his face more determined and serious, and it immediately made the familiar feeling set down harder on the pit of your stomach.

His eyes roamed your figure rather shamelessly. The fact that your shirt was still a bit wet and you had no bra didn't help at all in fighting the deep red off your cheeks. The way his eyes darkened made you shiver. Bringing a hand up to rest on the nape of your neck, slowly sliding to your cheek. He leaned in, kissing your forehead as if to make a promise, then your cheek and then your lips where he didn't pull away from. He didn't need any effort to push you down on the bed. With your hands hooked on his jeans you pulled him down, not that he even wanted to stay more than an inch away from you.

Your hips bucked up involuntarily, grazing the stiffness in Dean's pants that made you let out a shaky breath. He pushed your hips with his asking for as much friction as possible but only groaned in your mouth when you showed him you weren't going as gentle as before. His hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing so tight that you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. Compared to any other kiss this one was filled with much more raw emotion, need and a hint of lust.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt with just as much impatience as his fumbled with your shirt. Although he was more focused on getting as much skin contact as possible. You shuddered when his hands moved underneath your shirt and trailed up your sides to your chest, the touch only making your let out a whine when he refused to give you release but only torture you a bit more with his hands. To get him back for the teasing you held firmly onto his jeans, with your legs around his waist, you flipped him over that you were on top of him.

You pulled away just a bit to look down at him licking the remainer of your taste on his lips with a grin always plastered on his face. His hands didn't leave their place from underneath your shirt which was probably just why he was grinning like that. Cheeky bastard. With a mere move, though, you managed to wipe off the smile. With a hand almost over his hard on and a thrust of your hips you had his eyes widening and him choking on a moan that came unexpectedly.

You leaned down but repeated the move, your bodies sliding together, as he practically held his breath. Your lips found his again and with a harder push he couldn't hold back a grunt. A thrust of his own hips came and his hands that had stilled before were now even more frantic over your body. It was almost a game at this point, for everything. Seeing who'd last longer before breaking - at anything whether it was a moan or another thrust - and who would get be the one on top.

So it wasn't long before Dean was laying on top of you again and had you moaning even more. There was no minding it though when you were too busy craving more of his touch. But if he wanted to torture you with his hands so could yours. His rhythm turned wilder, his breath becoming even more erratic, making you squeeze your legs around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” you didn't even realize it when he had taken your shirt off. His eyes roamed your figure, dark and filled with want, but they only focused on your eyes in the end which made you relax more than you ever imagined. A laugh came from him, his breath hot and heavy against your neck “You're going to make me come in my pants already, princess. Haven't done that since I was a teenager.”

A giggle burst from your lips and you tightened your hold around his shoulders, your lips brushing over his as you spoke “Did you happen to do that often?”

He let a deep throaty moan when you pressed your bare chest flushed to his but grinned nonetheless “More or less. Although you make me feel like I'm 16 again, I get the impression that if I were to meet you when we were actually 16 there'd be a lot more of that coming.”

“Is there a pun intended?” you laughed as he shook his head “So you're saying, supposing we were the same age, you'd want me the same?”

“Sweetheart, there's no way my 16-year-old-self would let you walk by not even in my wildest dreams.” he said in a husky voice “I'd be crushing on you harder than a freaking teenager. Let alone the rest of the... thinking I would do with you in mind.” he said in between attacking your neck with kisses.

“Oh thinking is what we're going to call it now.” you giggled before your voice lowered and you whispered in his ear “I like how that sounds.”

“If only you knew, sweetheart.” he said breathlessly “I've dreamed about you.” he whispered roughly in between the kisses “Wanted you. Ever since we first met, I was a gonner. Don't know how you did it but damn you got me baby.” he mumbled against your skin as he licked and sucked on your neck now, he chuckled softly “I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

He didn't even realize it when the exact same words came out.

“It's easy to understand... You simply cannot resist me.” the words were innocent to you but not him.

As if electricity shot right through him, Dean's eyes snapped wide open and he pulled away faster than he ever had in his life. He stared at you with wide eyes as it dawned on him. He felt as if he was being pulled back to that dream and it scared him to the bone. Dean shook his head furiously, his breath having caught in his lungs as he stumbled to get back and away from you.

“D-Dean?” your voice was barely filled with pain, rather more worry and it warmed his heart because she would never sound like that. It reminded him it was still you, you that he had held and loved truly. “Dean...” you started but he only got further away, leaping off the bed and you hurried to put your shirt back on, standing on the edge of the bed “Is everything ok? What- what happened? Did I do someth-”

“No” he hurried to say, wanting to kick himself for making you doubt yourself even for a moment “No, it's not- you didn't do anything. You never could, I'm just- Ah fuck.” he groaned dragging a hand down his face before he fell down on the floor, back against the wall and head resting in his hands in defeat.

“Dean” you were almost scared to ask. You slowly approached him, kneeling in front of him and hesitating to place a hand on top of his “Dean talk to me. Something is going on with you... I could help.”

“You can't- you won't-” he felt like all his words were burning his throat, his head swimming with only one thought “You...” he pulled his hands away from his face and looked down “You will hate me.”

“Wh-what?” you blinked in surprise “Dean... I could never- What are you talking about?”

After such a great act of love, after he had already showed you how much you meant to him, after he was ready to experience your love and give you all of his he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it. But he also wasn't able to take the voice in his head, the constant feeling of being on edge and of feeling so much fear.

“I-” the lump in his throat made it impossible to talk, just as much as the fear settled deep in his heart but he knew that it would happen sooner or later and he didn't want to take advantage of your love when he didn't deserve. When he felt like he didn't deserve anything but your hate.

“I let her free, (Y/n). I was the one that set Amara free.”

~~~

A/N: My fave chapter is here! Right before it all goes to hell, I hope you enjoyed these lovely moments! Feedback is welcomed and tags are sadly closed!

@getlostinthedark @cap-just-said-language @catwithyellowwings @word-scribbless @carryon-doctor-lock @nightriver99 @timelady1140 @spideyxstan @agentstarkid @all-will-be-well-love @simpleboox @jaylarkson @cookiechipdough @alltimekp @a-dorky-book-keeper @givemebooksorgivemedeath @skeletoresinthebasement @sammy201d @akshi8278 @amandamdiehl @hobby27 @deans-baby-momma @musiclover1263 @feelmyroarrrr @sofreddie @skymoonandstardust @babygabrielle-blog @woodworthti666 @gunpowder-and-smoke-inofficial @erule @lizwinchester16 @itslunabitches @itsquies @justkending @fiftyshadesofrebel @love-my-not-natural-babies @outsider-underwater @deans-baby-momma @kaylinfayezink @x-waywardaf-x @keshaia @moonlight-on-her-skin @happy-little-marvel

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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i-will-be-forever-yours · 4 years

Text

Trust Issues

A/N This is my first writing...that has actually been posted so it might be pretty rough. anyway... feedback is welcome! thanks for reading

Warning: Angst, some language...umm idk what else

Summary: Shawn and Y/n have been married for a year and a half and he seems to be drifting. Will trust put this marriage at risk?

Word Count: 1.8k

posted 11-18-19

Don’t know who made this gif but if u did hmu so I can give you credit

Y/n breathed a sigh of relief when she walked into their two-story condo. The paparazzi decided that they would not leave her alone since the news of her marriage to Shawn Mendes, even eighteen months after the fact. For them it was like being a kid in a candy shop.

They had dated for just over two years when she found herself in front of a kneeling Shawn, velvet box in one hand. She was happy, to say the least, and let the tears flow as she nodded, being at a loss for words. However, prior to dating they had been friends since they were both young, and they couldn’t be happier. Their wedding was a romantic day one with only close friends and family. It was a special day, filled with laughter and tears of joy shared between the couple.

However, at just a year and six months of marriage, it was already hard. Of course, the first year was pure bliss, and they were very much newlyweds. However recently Shawn had been more distant and Y/n didn’t like it. For the better part of the last five years, they had been inseparable, but he seems to be drifting. Longer nights at the studio, early morning at the gym. Even when he was home, his mind wasn’t, and a part of Y/n felt like they were falling. She wasn’t sure where they were falling. Whether it be out of love, or falling deeper into confusion, she had no idea, but she knew that something needed to change.

Shawn was getting ready to go on tour again, but that was nothing new. They had been through a couple of his tours while they were friends and even while dating. However, something seemed off with this upcoming one.

Y/n tried to brush off the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach when she thought of her husband, but it just wouldn’t go away. To take her mind off things she decided to scroll through her twitter feed. The first thing to pop up was a picture of her husband and Camila, with the caption saying “Shawn’s new lover?”. She knew not to believe rumors and tabloids and had even grown accustomed to these stories. However, with Shawn’s recent behavior, she wasn’t so sure. Her mind told her to just stop but nevertheless, she clicked on the link that was provided.

She didn’t expect to find a picture of her husband’s face nuzzling into the neck of Camila, while she laughed and smiled. There were a handful of pictures of the two holding hands and laughing. It reminded her of when they first started dating. Young and in love, only having eyes for each other.

Pain and numbness spread throughout her chest at the thought that her husband no longer loved her. These thoughts were interrupted however by the sudden urge to throw up.

Jumping off the bed, she made a quick dash to the connected bathroom. She emptied the contents of her stomach and sat there on the bathroom floor. Her breathing was ragged and she kept dry heaving into the toilet, while trying to suppress the urge to cry.

She looked like a mess, with her hair in disarray and makeup running down her face from her shed tears. Her brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts, and she felt the sudden desire to sleep for hours. However, she picked herself off the floor to examine herself in the mirror. Wiping off the makeup and putting her hair in a messy bun she decided to get back on her phone. They had plans to go to dinner tonight, so y/n decided to call Shawn.

However, before the second ring, the call was denied. Deciding then to text him, she texted, “Hey honey, are we still on for dinner?” As she waited for his response she decided to check her calendar for her upcoming appointments and plans. While looking through it she realized something was missing. She had not had her period in two months, almost three.

She sat there on her bed in a nervous panic. What if she were pregnant? She hadn’t had sex with Shawn recently due to his busy schedule at that time, but based on the last time they had it would make sense. They were always so careful. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe it was just her body being irregular like it sometimes tended to be. The logical part of her brain denied these excuses though, because that’s what they were, excuses.

She immediately put on some shoes and a hoodie and drove to the nearest drugstore to pick up some tests. She was lucky to make the trip there and back without anyone snapping any pictures. The downside to having a famous husband was the unwanted pictures, but she loved him, so she made it work.

Once back safely inside the master bathroom, she undid all three tests and took them. She waited the time and when her phone alarm went off she froze. What if she were pregnant and Shawn didn’t love her anymore?

No time to think about that. She had to be positive, maybe this was the jumpstart her marriage needed. Taking a deep breath she grabbed the tests. They all read POSITIVE. She sat there for nearly five minutes before the waterworks started. Tears were streaming down her face, but there were so many emotions going on. She was ecstatic, scared, and angry. Ecstatic because she already felt so much love for this baby, but also scared to be a mom. However, she was angry at Shawn, angry that he didn’t reply and angry that he wasn’t here to share her joy.

She moved back to their room and hid the tests in the closet in some old shoes. As she made it back into her room she saw a message from Shawn saying, “sorry love, can I cancel tonight? I’m just really busy here at the studio.”

She let out a sigh because she was hoping to talk to Shawn over dinner. It seems she’ll just be eating alone again as she has for the past couple weeks.

Y/n is lying in bed when she hears the slam of the door. Looking at the clock she read that it’s midnight. She waits until she hears the heavy footsteps of her husband before she decides to get up. However just as she’s about to she hears his hushed voice saying “No i don’t know how i will tell her. Well, she will just have to deal with it. I know, it’s just that she is so fucking clingy sometimes, always calling or asking to go to dinner or do this and that.” ... “yeah i will, okay goodnight.”

She decides to pretend to be asleep when he walks in. Usually Shawn takes care not to make noise, but tonight he is taking no care to be quiet. She can hear him move about the room until he finally goes into the connected bathroom to shower. Not until the water turns on does she let out her emotions. Tears yet again stream down her face as she thinks about what her husband was saying about her. In her misery, she doesn’t even hear the water turn off nor does she hear as Shawn comes back into the room until she hears his soft voice.

“Y/n, what’s wrong love? Why are you crying?” he asks while reaching out for her.

She turns around to see the concerned eyes of her husband. She almost gives in until she remembers the pictures and his earlier conversation. Instead she looks away and answers “I am fine Shawn, just go to bed.”

“No, tell me what’s the matter! Why are you crying y/n?”

She looks up at him and bluntly asks, “Do you still love me?”

He is a little taken back by her question but is quick to reassure her. “Of course I do, why are you asking?”

She has to scoff at this. “What do you expect me to believe when I see pictures of you and Camila laughing and looking in love? And that conversation earlier? hmm...I think your exact words were she’s so fucking clingy!” she spit out at him.

His confusion quickly slips into anger. “What do you mean “looking in love”? I kissed her cheek, y/n! That’s is! You should know how close we are by now and yes I said you were clingy because sometimes I just need some alone time...ever think about that huh! I thought relationships were supposed to be built on trust. I guess you don’t trust me. Is that what I’m hearing?” He yells.

Y/n is now backed up to the headboard is fear and shock. Not once in their years together has he blown up on her like this. Her hands immediately reach for her stomach, even though she isn’t showing. It is almost a comfort, even just finding out. A way to protect the unborn being that rest within her, relying on her to keep them safe.

“I don’t know what to believe! You don’t talk to me anymore! I love you, Shawn, please just talk to me.” She sobs in a defeated voice.

However, his anger just seems to build. “I need to get away from you sometimes! You never give me a break, and you always want to talk or cuddle or whatever shit it is.”

She is crying now and just wants this nightmare to be over. However, it has reached its climax. “Get the fuck out of my face y/n. I cannot handle this anymore. Just go stay somewhere else.”

In a state of shock, she sits there. Until she makes eye contact with Shawn and that’s when she knows he means it. She rushes out the door with her car keys in hand. Once she is driving away she finally breaks once again. With a hand on her still flat stomach, she drives. She has nowhere to go because all her family and friends are in the states. They had moved to Canada to be close to his side of the family and his hometown.

However, being distracted while driving is not good. Especially when she’s been on the road for over an hour and emotionally exhausted. She looks down to see a message from Shawn saying “sorry love, please come back home...we can talk when you get back” As she is reading this she doesn’t see the car that ran a red light and barrels into her car, causing her car to roll multiple times before coming to a halt when it came into contact it a pole..

All she can hear is the sound of her phone ringing with the picture of Shawn filling her screen. She soon hears sirens before she slips into the comfort of darkness that is pulling her deeper into the abyss.

#shawn mendes #shawn x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes imagine #reader insert

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Nobody” Part 2

After not feeling well for months, The Joker finally found out why: the life threatening condition is so serious there’s only a 50/50 chance of survival. Dealing with a brain tumor is not going to be easy, that’s why The King of Gotham asked his half-brother Arthur to help Y/N while he’ll undergo treatment.

Part 1

“Hey Pumpkin,” The Joker kisses you. “Are you awake?”

You smack your lips and stretch, opening your eyes since you have no other choice.

“I am now… Are you feeling sick? Need anything?” the nursing side takes over while he’s silent, too busy wrapping your right leg around his waist. “Mister Joker,” you immediately gasp. “No guns in bed!”

“It’s not my gun,” he smirks and you chuckle at the evident truth. “When’s the last time we had sex, huh? Two weeks ago?!”

“Mmmm…” you debate, caressing his face. “Something like that.”

“All the meds are messing me up,” J pouts. “Great news though: turns out I’m not dead yet,” he adds and you yank him in your arms before his speech ruins the mood.

“Maybe we should sleep outdoors more often; it seems to have a beneficial effect,” Y/N underlines the welcomed idea The Joker had last night about resting on the terrace.

“Or maybe it’s just from having my girl close,” he utters a nice sentence, instantly correcting himself. “This is clearly the tumor messing with my brain; makes me say weird stuff.”

“Perhaps we should keep it then,” you sigh as The King of Gotham pulls down on your PJ shorts. “I like to hear weird stuff like that.”

“Do ya’?!” he fakes his surprise because he tries to avoid the subject.

“U-hum.”

“Naaah, I vote for sex and dirty talk!” J hisses and slides on top of you, prompting laughter when he starts nibbling on your cleavage. “Let’s have some fun before my mojo’s gone!”

“Mojo!” you repeat since you can’t stop cracking up, the unexpected entertaining morning 100 percent welcomed after the stressful past months.

“Shut up and let’s sin,” The Joker gives in to your charms. “You can be laud: Arthur’s a heavy sleeper, not that he can hear us anyway.”

***********

His brother is actually downstairs; Arthur woke up at 7:15am, moped around for a bit, then decided to cook breakfast. That’s what he’s been doing for the past 20 minutes: it wasn’t difficult to locate the necessary ingredients and bestowing his talents upon the famished couple might help in the long run.

He figured Y/N and J will appreciate his culinary abilities succeeding napping on the inflatable mattress outside; fresh air is bound to make one hungrier than usual.

So here’s the result of his hard work: two plates filled with bacon, eggs, hash browns, waffles and freshly sliced oranges perfectly arranged in symmetrical patterns.

Arthur places the dishes on a tray, humming a little song while he pours hot tea in the cups; it smells delicious and he can’t wait to enjoy the praises: he needs extra credit after upsetting Y/N yesterday with the unnecessary fight she witnessed by accident.

Mister Fleck lights up a cigarette, swiftly creeping out The Penthouse: he puffs the smoke like a chimney, mindful at the ashes flying in the breeze. A few extra steps and he’s almost in front of the canopy; Arthur prepares to announce his presence when moans reach his ear. He freezes and carefully listens, unsure on what to do.

“Oh my God, J!” you squeal as The Joker growls, purring up a storm.

“What are you doing to me, Kitten?”

Further panting and groaning suggests he should probably abandon his plan: Arthur holds in his breath, unwilling to interrupt the fun. The 42 year old begins to gracefully walk backwards, totally caught up in a tiny dance with the food tray.

“Sssttttt,” he admonishes his own action while sliding the glass door. “Let’s give the kids privacy,”Arthur mumbles and covers the plates to keep breakfast warm.

In about 20 minutes he notices J chasing you towards the entrance, your rosy cheeks turning red when you bump into the guest.

“Good morning,” you smile and let The Joker catch you.

“Easy prey,” he gropes a bubbly Y/N although if his older brother is present.

“Morning,” the reply triggers your boyfriend’s out of context comment:

“You cooked?!”

“Yeah,” Arthur gestures at the covered plates. “It’s ready to go.”

“Let me take a fast shower and brush my teeth. Are you coming?” J slaps you butt instead of another encouragement and you steal a piece of bacon to munch on the way up to the master bathroom:

“Thank you Arthur!”

“No problem,” he blows a rebel curl off his forehead, intrigued to see his sibling in a good mood; it’s a well-known fact The Joker didn’t have an abundance of fine days lately. Today must be an exception.

He’s actually the first one to arrive and Arthur has to ask:

“Where’s my sister-in-law?”

“She’s not your sister-in-law!” the sour tone underlines.

“I had you guys married,” the man insists.

“We didn’t agree to that!” The Joker hisses. “I barely tolerate her!” Arthur calmly lights up his second cigarette for the day, sharing wisdom with the feisty green haired menace:

“I wouldn’t take her for granted if I were you; one day you might wake up and realize she’s not even here. I talk from my own experience when I tell you it happened to me too: my relationship with the woman I loved was just an illusion, nothing more. Trust me when I tell you you’ll never feel such a deep disappointment again…”

“Ahhhh, I’m starving!” you pop up in the kitchen, completely unaware of the discussion they’re having. “Coffeeeeee,” you gush at the freshly brewed pot, excited to sip on the miracle drink.

“It’s impossible for us to hallucinate in the same time,” Arthur whispers. “Wanna check to make sure?”

J nods a yes and you’re suddenly trapped at the counter: Arthur grabs your right hand, his brother your left, both squeezing your fingers.

“I think you’re OK,” Mister Fleck concludes and you’re confused:

“What’s going on?”

“Confirming you’re real,” he admits on their strange experiment.

“Of course I’m real,” Y/N frowns, yet she has a vague idea regarding the mysterious behavior.

“Perfect; take your coffee and let’s eat,” J avoids expanding on the topic; that’s the best he can muster without revealing the slight panic at the thought you might be a product of his imagination.

*************

“I have a meeting at Savage Club this evening. Could end up profitable, depending on the terms. Would you care to accompany me?” Arthur offers to get The Joker out of the house for the heck of it.

“Nah…” the latest mutters, quite uncomfortable after his afternoon pills.

“Come on, baby; let’s go out!!! It’s been forever!” you implore because the proposal sounds super enticing. “I miss having fun,” you blur out and continue when his bitterness is obvious: “Not that it’s not fun staying home. Pleeeeaasseee, can we? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me; I’m not a child!” The Joker raises his voice and you are frustrated since no matter what you articulate it gets twisted.

“Why do you have to be like this?...” the rhetorical question is a clear statement of how much you hate conflict over trivial issues of no importance whatsoever.

Your other half believes otherwise.

“Like what, hm? Like what?! Explain so everybody can get an intelligible and logical breakdown!!” J yells for no reason but you are so done with his outbursts.

“Never mind,” you sniffle and stroll out on the terrace in order to avoid more bickering; today started so damned uplifting and you don’t know how to keep things together anymore.

When you give your all and you don’t receive too much in return, the good moments blur out in the background to the point of becoming insignificant.

“You’re a jerk,” Arthur affirms after he’s left alone with his sibling.

“Pfft,” The Joker rolls his eyes. “It’s the tumor,” he sarcastically emphasizes.

“Bullshit! It’s not the tumor, kid. And I’m taking her out, she earned it. Your crabby ass can stay here; Y/N is certainly due for refreshing fun!” the fierce answer provokes J’s resentment.

“Definitely not!!!”

“Watch me,” Arthur scoffs at his relative’s conduct, deciding to follow you outdoors.

You watch the busy city from the 30th floor and it’s safe to say you don’t really see it; the wrists loosely hanging over the railing cue him to approach with caution.

“I had this epiphany that you should escort me to Savage Club,” he tests the waters. “If you don’t fancy to attend the gathering you can always sit at the bar and have some drinks. Call me insane but I have this hunch you might want a distraction.”

“I can’t,” you regretfully inform. “I have to ensure J takes his medications and eats; what if he has an episode while I’m gone?... I simply can’t…”

“Plenty of people to supervise him; he’ll be ok.”

You don’t reply and Arthur lights up another cigarette, nonchalantly chatting with the quiet Y/N.

“Tell you how this will play: we’ll get ready and at 6pm we are leaving with or without the kid. If he joins it’s fine, if not… infinitely better,” he elbows a sulky Y/N. C’mon, put on a happy face! See?” he grabs the corners of his mouth and forces them into an eerie grin, eager to demonstrate his proclamation. “It’s not complicated, you just have to practice,” he moves his fingers to your face and elevates the corners of your lips, trying to mimic a smirk for a few seconds. “Tough crowd…” he grumbles when there’s no reaction. “Don’t make me take out the heavy artillery,” Arthur threatens. “I used to do stand-up comedy, you know?”

“… Did you?...” you finally respond to his repeated attempts, pretending you are clueless of his skills.

“You should be aware I’m a tour de force nobody should reckon with,” Mister Fleck boasts, super confident he can make you laugh.

“Yeah, after you tell a joke there’s so much silence you can hear the crickets chirping all the way from New York!” J snarls because he tiptoed on the patio to spy on the conversation.

“Oh yeah?!” Arthur gets annoyed and without further delay he lays upon you one of the best masterpieces to ever emerge from his genius brain: “I hope my death makes more cents than my life.”

And now he waits… and waits…

“Told you before: it’s not funny,” The Joker reprises his march back to the Penthouse, thrilled at his brother’s failure when the unthinkable happens: Y/N bursts out laughing like crazy, not necessarily due to the pun being hilarious (she actually finds it kind of sad, that’s why she didn’t react sooner).

Arthur’s inflated ego makes him shout from the top of his lungs, ensuring the younger sibling can perceive his triumphant bragging:

“IT IS FUNNY!”

************* “Welcome to my humble kingdom,” Joker guides you towards the bar among the increasing ruckus his presence is creating among the audience.

Savage Club belongs to him and his “fans” meet here on a regular basis: a safe haven for the eccentrics, misfits and wackos, ready to do whatever necessary to please their role model.

Arthur picks a microscopic crumb from the collar of his impeccable red suit while pulling a high chair for you:

“Take a sit,” he quickly glances at the huge mirror behind the counter to make sure his clown make-up is flawless: it took him an hour to get ready after you accepted his invitation. He’s usually faster yet the feminine company required auxiliary efforts; it’s not every day you steal a woman from her crib and take her out for invigorating entertainment.

The woman being your brother’s partner makes it even better.

“J is not answering my texts,” you sigh, already worried he might be sick.

“It’s his fault for acting up,” Arthur takes out a cigarette and seven hands holding lighters pop up around him. He chooses the one belonging to the pretty lady to his right, giving her a little wicked wink that visibly flusters the recipient of such undivided attention. “I’m going to my meeting, it should take too long,” he addresses Y/N and she nods, prepared to guzzle down much needed alcohol away from the grumpy boyfriend.

“Nothing happens to my sister-in-law,” Joker barks at one of the bouncers on his way to the VIP room; there’s no soul to argue the disclosure regarding your connection so he gets away with it.

“No worries, sir; she’s safe.”

“You misunderstand,” Arthur cuts him off. “This is for their safety,” he points at the mob. “In case you didn’t recognize her, that’s Y’N and she’s in a foul mood; we all heard rumors about her temper, hm?”

“Yes, Mister Joker.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” The Clown scolds. “My brother’s Mister Joker; I’m simply Joker. Or did you forget?!”

*************

1 hour and 13 minutes later

“How are we doing?” Arthur makes himself comfortable next to you, gesturing at the 8 empty shot glasses collected in a small pyramid.

“Amazing,” you slurp from your second Mai Tai cocktail and chew on the pink straw.

“How many can shots can you handle?” he curiously interrogates the buzzed Y/N.

“About 5,” you snort and it makes him content to notice you’re carefree for once.

“Going overboard?” Arthur snickers and you lift your glass, lively concluding: “I’ll drink to that!”

He has no beverage so he snatches a beer bottle from a guy, inquiring:

“Did you touch this?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“It’s mine,” he clinks the container against yours and instructs: ”Here’s to going overboard; bottoms up!”

**************

“Look who’s home at 2 in the morning!” J criticizes when Y/N and Arthur show up in the living room at The Penthouse.

“I wasn’t aware we had a curfew!” your drinking buddy enunciates as you hide behind him, concealing your face in the soft fabric of his jacket.

You obviously thought your boyfriend would be in bed but nope, he waited for your victorious return.

“A-are you mad?” your slurred words dissipate in the air, closely followed by hiccups.

The Joker exhales, resigned: oddly enough he missed you, although you were absent for a whopping 5 hours and a half.

“No.”

“Oh my God!” you peek from beyond your human shield as if the opposite was stated. ”W-what are you gonna do?”

“You’ll see,” J finally takes his night meds: he postponed the remedy because he wanted to be awake for this magnificent after show.

“Oh my God!” you squeak, appalled. “W-what are you gonna d-do?” the repeated question prompts actual confessions:

“First, I’ll help you take a shower and brush your teeth…”

“Oh my God!” your eyes get big like this is the worst thing ever; the inebriated Y/N can’t connect the dots too well.

“Then we’ll have sex and I’ll be sweet; you won’t remember in the morning,” The Joker sneers.

“Oh my God!” you glare at Arthur completely dumbfounded, then at J, then at Arthur who’s sturdily holding your arm so you won’t fall.

“Stop teasing her!” he hisses.

“I’m literally replying to her quizzing.”

“W-what are you gonna do?” the plastered Y/N has to know again.

“This is your fault!” The Joker comes to grab you, exasperated. “I consider you responsible!”

“Cool,” Arthur proudly delivers his date to the rightful owner. “I’ll retreat to my room and leave you kids alone,” he waves and distances from the couple while blessing them: “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Nobody and Joker!”

“Shut the hell up!” his brother snaps, irritated at the persistent charade.

“You may kiss the bride!” Arthur mocks, positively not giving a crap about the rant: he’s an individual with a mission and won’t admit defeat that easily.

“Can you believe this shit?!” The Joker complains and shoves Y/N in one of the bathrooms downstairs. “Ewww, you smell like a distillery,” he rants while tugging on your clothes.

“Oh my God!” you whimper, distressed at his words.

“Ugghhh, you sound like a broken record!” The King of Gotham urges you to step in the shower and it doesn’t fail:

“Oh my God!”

“Seriously??!!” your actions skyrocket his blood pressure to unknown heights. “Take a break!”

“A-are you mad?” you stutter, the hot water making you even drowsier.

“I’m starting to be!!” he reprimands and you fakely sob since you can’t recall how to cry properly:

“W-what are you gonna do?”

The great Clown Prince of Crime huffs, convinced the universe unleashed you upon him to test his patience as punishment for past transgressions:

“Why me?!”

You rub your eyes and J turns off the water, bundling the intoxicated Y/N in a huge towel.

“Stupid helpless burrito,” he grunts and sweeps you off your feet, entirely done for the night.

Ahh, it sure feels nice and you bury your cheeks in his neck, burping in the process.

“Jesus!” he protests as you clumsily apologize:

“S-sorry baby…”

“I should push you off the balcony and be done with this ordeal!” he stumbles on the hallway, vexed.

The Joker really should have kept his opinion to himself since Pandora’s Box is automatically reopened.

“Oh my God!”

“I’m cursed,” the genuine declaration is accompanied by a soft kiss; despite the circumstances, The Joker is not that angry.

Arthur closes the door to his bedroom, delighted to have observed the scene:

“He kissed the bride,” the man inhales from the last cigarette of the day, flicking the bud out the window afterwards.