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astonmartinii · 6 months

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peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩

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user1: excuse me 😀

user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related

alexalbon: erm what is is ?

yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy

alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass

yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital

alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨

yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY

oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really

yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges

georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.

user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?

yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?

oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no

yourusername: ugh boring

user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman

oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines

yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?

georgerussell63: more like e l james

yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK

yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x

user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup

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user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE

yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”

oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing

yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP

oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did

yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists

oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not

yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(

georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for

yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨

georgerussell63: well yes but needs must

oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong

landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs

georgerussell63: okay i get it damn

yourusername: SMASH

alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?

yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too

alexalbon: excuse me?

yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl

lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳

alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life

user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos

georgerussell63: do not encourage her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.

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user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands

user9: she did NAWT hold back omg

oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour

yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone

oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me

user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?

yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.

georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.

yourusername: thank you georgie

oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here

yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸

alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN

user11: alex spill how brutal was it?

alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing

yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement

alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports

yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist

georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(

user12: why are we celebrating violence?

user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL

oscarpiastri

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.

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user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES

georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you

yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him

georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY

oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george

georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done

oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law

yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE

georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.

user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes

landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?

yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy

danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy

yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel

oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass

yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch

yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go

danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute

logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard

oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two

yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭

landonorris: WHAT ????

oscarpiastri: no comment

logansargeant: no comment

yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍

landonorris: no comment

alexalbon

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe

alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten

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user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship

yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING

alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated

yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily

alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph

oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n

alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house

yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK

alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you

yourusername: bare minimum

user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????

landonorris: lando norris erasure

charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure

oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town

landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(

yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud

landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63

georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago

yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay

oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real

user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf

yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really

oscarpiastri: and you love it

note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

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yamujiburo · 23 days

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Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

#hanamusa #hanamusashipping

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chaewandz · 10 months

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DUOLINGO DATE : NRK

synopsis: niki catches u practicing japanese on duolingo just for him while he’s asleep

wc: 777 words

pairing: nishimura riki x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: niki teases, y/n throws a pillow, cliché, very cringey I must admit

“translate: a vegetable”

you quickly typed “やさい” into your keyboard, earning a little ding meaning you were correct.

moving onto the next question you were determined to finish the lesson under 30 seconds, even though your speed did not matter in the slightest.

“translate: どうもありがとう!”

“this is way too easy.” you whispered, swiftly typing “thank you very much!” into the space provided. duo blinked at you, then cheered.

“どうもありがとう duo!” you said, giggling as you prepared to answer the next question.

“translate: 先生, おはようございます”

as you were typing the correct english translation, a voice suddenly interrupted.

“what the actual fuck are you doing.”

you jumped, dropping your phone onto the floor and holding your chest, gasping for breath.

“YOU WERE MEANT TO BE SLEEPING!” you declared to your boyfriend as if he was somehow in the wrong for waking up to your extremely loud duolingo practice.

niki laughed and shook his head.

“HELLO why are you learning Japanese from a BIRD when you have me?” he asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, now propped up on his elbows.

“because! you were ASLEEP!” you were determined to blame him but only so you could mask your embarrassment.

niki just rolled his eyes, muttering something in japanese that you tried your absolute hardest to understand. but that was merely impossible considering you were still on level one of “greetings” according to Duo’s lesson plan.

“what was that?” you asked accusingly.

“did you not understand? i thought you were a japanese master…” he teased, a smug look on his face.

you just threw a pillow at him in return. this brought about the most dramatic gasp that you had ever heard from niki, which was not easy to beat considering he did this all the time.

you watched as he contemplated picking up the nearest pillow and chucking it at your head in the name of revenge, but paused and composed himself.

“y/n, why are you learning japanese? especially while I’m asleep?” there was a slight smirk on his lips that let you know that he already knew the answers to his own questions, he just wanted to tease you.

“you know, I know, we all know- let’s move on haha go back to sleep goodnightnikisweetdreams!” you rambled, quickly diving under the covers, hiding your face and turning your body away from him.

this didn’t really do anything. you were only met with loud shuffling and breaths until your boyfriend was now laying next to you, also underneath the covers.

“this is nice.” he whispered sarcastically, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the duvet above him.

“now what do you want.” you turned your body now to face him, only to be met with the same mischievous smirk as before.

“tell me why you were learning japanese as a secret.”

“no.”

“yes!”

“no?”

“YES???”

“FINE. fine fine fine fine you win- alright- whatever- yes I was learning japanese because I wanted to surprise you and your family to make them feel more comfortable at dinner tomorrow and to make you happy.” you whispered the last part, letting out a deep sigh. “can we go to sleep now?”

even in the dark underneath your blankets, you could still pick out the rose colored tint that dusted niki’s cheeks, paired with an equally as flustered grin.

“thank you.” was all he could manage to say without getting too lovey-dovey. slowly, you began to smile back, finding his reaction to be quite sweet, a complete contrast to his sass from moments prior.

niki then grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him so that your head was now resting against his chest with your arms around his waist.

you breathed in his warmth, eyes peacefully closing.

“do you want to stay under the covers because I’m starting to sweat…” he whispered, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence. you just laughed, jokingly rolling your eyes. your laugh instantly made him chuckle as well, chin rested on the top of your head.

“yeah I’m overheating as well.” you slowly released your hands from around his waist and shoved the blanket away, the cool air of your apartment rushing in.

“better?” you asked, fanning his face.

“much.” he grabbed your wrists again and put your arms back to the way they were, wrapped around his waist.

“goodnight riki.” you whispered, titling your head up to lightly press a kiss to his chin.

“goodnight, sneaky japanese prodigy.” he whispered back, smiling as he kissed the top of your head.

and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the same way you did each night. and as always, you wished that you could stay this way forever.

a/n: 🫠😅💃🏼🩰😚😊☺️😳 guys I wrote this like last summer bc I was trying to beat my gf in our friends quest on duolingo LOLLLL yes freja this is inspired by u. Guys also I gave up learning Japanese on duolingo bc it made absolutely no sense ??? n e ways

#chaewandz #enhypen #ni ki enhypen #niki imagines #enha imagines #enha soft hours #niki soft hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fics #niki drabbles #niki scenarios #niki oneshots #enhypen oneshots #nishimura riki

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bunny-yan · 3 months

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Yandere Duke x Spouse!GN!Reader

TW: mentions rape, mentions violence, language, confinement —

“You’ve changed.”

It was surprising to hear something other than the sound of cutlery hitting the glass plates you used for meals considering the weeks of silence that filled the dining hall before.

Finishing the bite of steak, juices running from the meat, you dabbed at your mouth before responding without a glance up.

“How do you mean, my Lord?”

Your knife worked easily, cutting away the next portion to feast upon. The chef had decided on something heavier since you were trying to put on weight now that the seasons were changing. There would rarely be a need to travel beyond the mansion’s expansive garden now that you were due to experience a freeze. Parties would be halted for the weather to ensure everyone’s safety, the lord of the territory even going so far as to fine anyone found guilty of hosting due to the coming danger. It stifled things, but the mansion was large enough to keep one busy and hidden if need be.

“For starters, the way you address me.”

A small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes appeared on your face as you finally deigned to look into the stern expression on your husband’s face. It hadn’t changed much, but the years you’d spent observing him allowed you to see that this went beyond a cold exterior. No, he was feeling bothered.

You remembered when the lack of expression used to bother you. You felt as if you lived on eggshells trying to guess your husband’s mood since he never made it clear how he felt about things he considered tedious, but little gestures, a quirk of the lips, gaze drifting off to the side, they were all things you learned to be closer to him. To truly understand the man beneath. You often were proud of your devotion when it helped in your desire to get to know him.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, feigning innocence as you stabbed the next piece of steak. “I’m simply offering the Duke, the respect you have earned through the hardships you’ve faced in acquiring your position.”

There was a twitch in his brow with slightly downturned lips.

Distaste.

You didn’t think much of it as you placed the steak in your mouth, making a mental note to give compliments to the chef. He remembered how you liked yours cooked and it was simply divine.

You felt giddy From his continued silence knowing he couldn’t disagree with you. There wasn’t an issue. As you said, you were acting with the highest respect. What problem could be found there?

“You used to call me by my name.”

You had to stop the surprise that threatened to ruin your unbothered facade at the open confession. He’d usually flounder for something else to say or change the subject. You didn’t expect such a straightforward answer.

Your response was delayed by another bite and after continuing to avoid eye contact. Assuming that you wouldn’t respond he cleared his throat before continuing.

“You spend more time in the garden.”

Shaking your head, the easy smile was once again plastered to your face as you said, “I wanted to get a chance to see the flowers before the snow comes. There will be little to see then.”

Pursed lips.

He had more to say, but some things he felt damaged his pride to admit.

“You’ve also gotten lazy,” he said, voice taking an accusing tone. “You spend more time in bed in the mornings rather than seeing to your tasks.”

You could’ve gotten upset, but instead, a small laugh escaped from your lips.

“My Lord, the time allotted to spend on work for the duchy has not changed. I assure you that everything is being handled according to schedule.”

Again, his lips pursed. With a twitch of his eye, it was a telling sign that he was beginning to get angry.

There was only so much one could say without truly admitting what was wrong. Did he mention the time you spent in the garden because they were usually trips you took in his company? You couldn’t understand why he’d get so upset. The duration of your walk about the garden, you spoke and he offered little response if any. From the way he resisted the idea, making it out as if you were being a nuisance for forcing him to take breaks in the middle of his work, you couldn’t imagine why it was something he’d get so upset about being excluded from. As for your apparent laziness, coming home from morning meetings with the king, you suppose he found it odd that you no longer waited patiently at the door to greet him when he came back. Considering he barely glanced in your direction, it was again something that shouldn’t have caused him to make a fuss.

“Are you trying to tell me that this perceived distance is simply a figment of my imagination?”

He never was one to beat around the bush for long.

“Distance?” you began, again deciding to play innocent. “I’m right next to you, aren’t I, my Lord?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, voice tight as he stabbed a finger into the table. “You aren’t the same. You don’t-” treat me the same, you supposed he would’ve said had he not cut himself off. But he couldn’t mention the way the two of you used to lie in bed together. Talking of nothing when you got bored and decided instead to exist in his company. How could he say that he missed the way your hand would trail from his hair to the nape of his neck, making him feel closer to you with every graze of your skin against his? How was he supposed to reveal that it unnerved him when he didn’t see you every odd hour, having to now make excuses to leave his office since your impromptu hourly visits stopped? The anxious feelings would vanish when he caught sight of you, reassuring himself that nothing was wrong, but it quickly returned the longer he didn’t receive the same attentiveness that he was used to. You no longer sat in his lap to distract him from work or make offers for the two of you to get drunk beyond remembrance after he finished his tasks for the day. Your hands no longer reached for his when you went to bathe. Granted it wasn’t often that you would invite him, but even the weekly requests for his time and affection had stopped. You could sense the frustration building up and so you decided to drop the act in favor of finally talking about the elephant that drove a wedge between the two of you.

“No, I suppose my behavior is not the same, but please tell me, Duke. Do you think this supposed change happened before or after His Majesty visited?”

His body went rigid and his eyes locked on yours, cold and unyielding.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, lighting resentment in you as you struggled to keep your composure.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, my Lord.”

Sighing as he pushed a hand through his hair, he leveled your stare with his own as he began softly, “You have to understand that there are certain proclivities that the King has. The partners he brings in to gentle certain urges are customary.”

“And since when was it considered customary for one of those partners to be your spouse?”

You didn’t know how much longer you could contain the rage burning deep inside you as he continued to look at you as if you said nothing worthy of his concern. It took weeks for him to even acknowledge it and that was after you withdrew the affection that he had grown used to. Had grown to miss considering he rarely brought up anything unless it was of immediate detriment to the state of the duchy.

“Do you have nothing to say?” you asked, voice rising as you lost the control you struggled desperately to maintain.

The memory haunted you. It followed you no matter where you went, no matter what room you fled to. You couldn’t sleep at night without waking in sheer terror and panic that he would be standing at the edge of your bed. Watching you silently like a predator with eyes that felt too familiar for your liking. You couldn’t feel safe, could no longer feel comfortable in what you had called your home. Not when a shadow persistently followed you from room to room. It grew larger as the sun went down and sometimes you struggled to breathe in a room without a light banishing the darkness that threatened to consume you.

“I understand that event has upset you-”

“Upset me‽” you seethed, cutlery slamming down on the table and making it shake.

“But that is no excuse for neglecting your matrimonial duty.”

You scoffed.

“Duty? You speak of duty. And what of yours when you allowed your brother to fuck me?”

You felt yourself explode when he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Watch your tone.”

“How could you allow something like that to happen‽ In our home!” Getting to your feet, you fought the wave of dizziness that threatened to overtake you as you pierced him with a glare.

“I don’t wish to speak of this,” he said, setting his fork down with downturned lips. “Especially when you cannot control yourself enough to have a civil conversation.”

It was just like him to ask you to be civil while discussing something as appalling as what he refused to acknowledge.

He wanted a civil conversation? Fine.

Placing your palms on the table to give yourself a chance to expel the overflowing anger, you pinned him with a glare that held more than contempt, more than rage. You didn’t want to admit what you felt, but the longer you looked at the man you’d once felt proud to call your husband, cracks began to form at the edges of your furious exterior.

“Did you or did you not give your brother permission to have sex with me?”

“You don’t give the King permission. You heed his requests.”

Slamming your hands on the table, you didn’t care that the tactics to calm yourself down hadn’t worked. “Stop arguing semantics with me and answer the fucking question! Did you or did you not let your brother have sex with me?”

“I did.”

Stunned, you almost bit your tongue to keep from lashing out as he finally admitted what had been weighing down on you for so long. It killed you to go about your day as if you hadn’t been subjected to such cruel abandonment. What was worse is that he looked at you as if nothing had changed, as if life could continue, passing off that night, that moment, the single most terrifying happening of your existence, as a normal occurrence. It made you want to scream.

“And do you not see an issue with this?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek this time. Blood quickly poured into your mouth, but you couldn’t acknowledge it or the pain. Your mind wallowed in your husband’s sangfroid demeanor.

You knew he wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, that he often had trouble expressing his emotions, but you could’ve never imagined that he would be so… so uncaring. Especially after all this time. Especially after the lengths that you had gone to to understand him.

You didn’t know who this cold stranger was.

Only a stranger could turn a blind eye to their spouse being taken advantage of. Their spouse of eighteen years. To allow something that could only be described as the single, most humiliating experience of your life.

If you fought or denied him, you’d put your family's name, honor, and lives on the line. The King had been happy to remind you in punctuated grunts, body slick with sweat as he… as he…

You felt yourself get nauseous.

There was plenty you didn’t have to remember considering you closed your eyes to try and block out what had happened, but blocking one sense only heightened the others. You could still hear his harsh moans scratching across your ears and feel the stubble on his face from when he buried his head in your neck. Smell, taste his breath when-

“I’m going back,” you said suddenly, not knowing whether you spoke to your husband or yourself. Lifting yourself from the table, you tried to hold yourself with trembling legs that threatened to buckle if you didn’t focus on putting strength into them. “My father won’t be happy, but my mother will convince him. I’ll even ask him to consider not asking for you to return the dowry.”

“You aren’t going anywhere. Sit down.”

You couldn’t be here. Not if you were going to forget. Not wake up and experience that awful moment each time you opened your eyes in that bed. Going back to your house at your age would forever be a shame on your name. Others would whisper and assume that the Duke no longer had any interest in the lowly Baron’s child, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if it hurt your chances to get remarried. You didn’t care if you would never be able to remarry. You couldn’t be here.

Walking towards the entrance hall, you tried to swallow the uneasy feeling as you thought of what you would say to convince your father to take you back.

The sound of a chair screeching across the floor made you flinch, but you could do nothing as a firm hand closed around your forearm before you were dragged forward.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, feeling pain when you tried to pull away from his tightening grip. Stumbling after him up the stairs, you felt panic grip you.

The duke had never been a violent man. You’d known of his strength, of his experience and success in battle. You knew he was strong from glimpses of training you watched him engage in, but he wasn’t violent.

He would never-

Being shoved into a room, you fell without him holding you up and your eyes were incredulous as you looked up into his.

It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that he was angry.

Brows furrowed heavily, the door handle groaned in his fist.

“From the minute your father walked you down the aisle and handed you to me, you became mine to do with as I please. Your behavior is unacceptable. You will remain in this room until it changes.”

He slammed the door closed without another word, leaving you reeling in shock as the sound of the door locking echoed throughout the room.

The duke was never one to treat you with such little respect.

He never put his hands on you, only treating you with the utmost care.

He was hard to read, but he’d never- He wasn’t capable of something like this.

He would never-

He was… a stranger.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere duke #yandere duke x reader

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chvoswxtch · 4 months

Text

teach me

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.

warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.3k

a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“You’re being a dick.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”

“You’re still being a dick.”

“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”

It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.

Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand.

But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.

“That was real cute.”

Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.

“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”

“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”

“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”

Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place.

The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.

In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.

Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it.

“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”

Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.

“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”

Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.

“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”

Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.

“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”

While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.

“Show me.”

Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance made the gun almost wobble in your hands.

“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”

Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.

“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”

Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.

“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”

Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.

“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”

Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.

“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try.

Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.

Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh.

“Holy shit, that actually worked!”

Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.

“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”

Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.

“I have a gun.”

“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier.

Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity.

“Okay, step three.”

A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.

“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”

The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.

“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”

Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.

“Good. Show me.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you.

The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.

“Show me.”

“I’m not doing that-”

“It ain’t loaded-”

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”

Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.

But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.

Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.

“Hey-”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”

“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”

“And what if I can’t, Frank?”

The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war.

But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.

Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.

“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”

The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.

“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.

“You are such an ass.”

The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”

Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.

“No hesitating. I promise.”

“Attagirl. C’mere.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.

Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.

Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.

“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”

Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.

“I had a good teacher.”

“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”

“I thought I had terrible aim?”

“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.

“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”

Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.

The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.

“Frank-”

“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually.

“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him.

“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”

His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.

Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.

“Fuck…Frank…”

Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.

“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.

But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.

That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.

“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”

Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.

You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.

“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”

Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat. Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.

Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.

“If ya need a minute-”

“No. Now.”

While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.

“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”

A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.

“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”

The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.

“Got somethin’ better in mind.”

By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.

“Wait.”

Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.

“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”

Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows.

“Huh?”

Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently.

“What are you-holy shit.”

Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly.

You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.

“Just relax.”

The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.

“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”

Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment.

All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.

“C’mere.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit.

“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”

“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”

Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs.

Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.

“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”

This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.

Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.

Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes.

“Frank-”

“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.

Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.

“Frank…I…I-”

Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision.

Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.

The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.

As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.

“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”

Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.

“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”

Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.

“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”

“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”

When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was.

How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?

Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.

What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-

“Quit it.”

The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”

Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.

“How do you even-”

“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”

Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”

Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head.

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”

Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.

“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”

That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.

“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”

Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.

“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it don’t.”

“So…he’s-”

“An asshole. Go to sleep.”

Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.

“Frank!”

“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”

“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”

“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”

“I thought Billy was your only friend.”

Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.

“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”

Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Hey!”

A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.

“I’m not done. I have more questions.”

“Course you do.”

“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”

While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.

“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #the punisher series

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callsignhood · 4 months

Text

Calling König by different cute names:

Tags: Gender neutral, tooth rotting fluff, that’s it.

❤️Schatzi (Honey)

“Where did you learn that?” He blinks his eyes in pure joy and surprise. He loves the way you’re speaking German with him. “You’re my beloved too, my Häschen, my Spätzchen.” He happily teases you back with a grin. He’ll call you by something lovely and purposefully cute, because you are the one that he needs to protect with all cost.

🧸Teddy bear

He laughs with delight. He then drowns you in the embrace of his arms and made sure to avoid squeezing you too tightly, since he is aware of his size and strength. “Of course, I’ll be it.” He playfully spins himself with you a few round, looking at you with those pretty blue eyes full of affection. You can tell he has a big smile under the sniper hood.

💅Baby girl / War princess

König flinches at the name, and he looks you up and down a few times, wondering if he heard it wrong. You repeat it again. He unbelievably coughs out a laugh. “Ernsthaft?” (Seriously?) He’s not very amused, but he’s far from upset. He frowns a little under his sniper hood, and drops his head on your shoulder, giving you a few nuzzles. “Bitte (Please), call me Schatzi or something, I prefer those.”

If you keep calling him Baby girl, expect some defensive head shakes and arm nudges. Nobody has ever called him by those, and it’s… a bit weird for him. But he’d probably accept his fate and comes to you with a grumpy eye roll. “Yes yes. I’m here.”

🎶A name in your native language or something he is not familiar with

“What’s that? Tell me.” He let out a chuckle, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze. He couldn’t understand the meaning behind it, but he’s sure it’s something either cute or cheesy, since he knows you like to tease him. If you don’t tell him, he’ll ask his teammates and find his answer. He is also willing to learn a few pet-names in your own language. Please expect and tolerate some cute mispronunciation from him.

💍Meine Frau (my wife)

König immediately chokes on air, stares at you with wide opened eyes from your baffling words. He then puts one hand on his eyes, sighing out a weak and desperate Nein (No) under his sniper hood. “My love, it’s not right, I should be dein Ehemann (your husband), not your wife.” He corrects you with an embarrassed tone, as his cheeks and ears grew hotter under that piece of cloth. He’s grateful that you couldn’t see him blushing as you finally corrected yourself with mein Ehemann.

He will secretly consider when should he make this name come true to its meaning.

#konig #konig cod #konig x you #konig fluff #call of duty fluff #konig headcanon #konig x reader #konig x y/n #König cod #könig cod #könig #könig fluff #könig headcanons #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig x reader

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tubatwo · 1 year

Text

(숩) home - choi soobin

summary: your first time dealing with a sulky, jealous soobin

pairing: gn reader x choi soobin

genre: fluff.. slight angst?; 1.2k words

tonight was another dorm movie night planned with the boys. taehyun was in charge of picking the movie, beomgyu and kai were in charge of making the popcorn, yeonjun was in charge of setting up the living room, and soobin… well soobin was in charge of just being attached to you.

ㅤ

“how much longer are you going to make y/n carry your 6-foot ass?” yeonjun asks while placing a variety of drinks on the table. you hear beomgyu and kai cackle from the kitchen, and taehyun lets out a soft chuckle himself. soobin was currently wrapped around you like a koala, waddling around with you as you tried to help the boys set up.

“they’re not even carrying me!” soobin exclaims, “and they don’t mind either... right baby?” you chuckle and shake your head. “no, I don’t mind at all.” soobin makes a face at the others and finally releases himself from you. “I have to use the bathroom really quick!” he kisses your cheek and walks towards the bathroom.

beomgyu and kai return from the kitchen and place bowls of popcorn on the table. “yah, y/n, I don’t know how you deal with him.” beomgyu teasingly looks at you with pity. kai nods in agreement, “I can’t believe he’s even showing this much pda around us, it’s almost adorable.” he says. “that means he’s too comfortable with us, we should change that.” taehyun chimes in, making everyone laugh.

“guys, leave him alone,” you whine, “it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” yeonjun walks up to you and dramatically grabs both of your hands. “and what about us y/n? did you not miss your sweet junie?” you all start giggling as the rest of the boys join in and start doing aegyo. “yeah! what about your cutie beombu, hmm?” soon the room goes silent as you hear the bathroom door close. soobin walks in giving death glares to everyone in the room, except you, of course. “papa rabbit has arrived, guys.” taehyun says playfully.

“leave y/n alone, seriously,” soobin walks over to separate you and yeonjun, “you all are a bunch of pests.”

eventually, you all sit down to finally watch the movie. there was no actual hostility in the room, and the boys were just teasing soobin. he knew that. it wasn’t anything new, but sometimes you would glance over at him to find an unreadable expression on his face.

later that night, you and soobin are both sitting on his bed after finishing up your skincare routines. you get ready to turn off the table lamp until you notice him sulking. “hey, what’s wrong?” you ask. he glances at you before responding, “nothing…” you can tell that he’s not actually upset with you. you’ve comforted him enough times to know when he’s truly struggling with something, but still, you know that there’s something on his mind.

you slowly crawl into his lap and see him turn his head in the opposite direction. “baby? honey?” you tickle his sides softly, smiling as you watch him try his hardest not to smile. “I know you’re not actually upset with me,” you begin, “you’re sulking about something.” you wrap your arms around his neck and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “please tell me, bunny.” the nickname makes his lips twitch as he finally looks over at you. “i’m mad at yeonjun.”

your eyes widen for a second before asking, “what? why?” his pout deepens. “he was flirting with you…” a small chuckle slips out of your mouth, causing him to sulk again and try to get up. “no, no, i’m sorry.” you wrap your arms even tighter around him, preventing him from leaving. “I won’t laugh anymore, I promise.”

“but…” you begin, “what about beomgyu? you aren’t mad at him?” you ask. soobin thinks for a second. “i’ve learned to tune him out...” he admits, making you both giggle.

this was your first time seeing soobin jealous, and you could tell that he didn’t exactly know how to handle it. truthfully, you didn’t either. part of you thought that it was cute, definitely a little funny considering it was about yeonjun, but you also knew that soobin was an overthinker. you knew that you had to put an end to whatever he was thinking before it went too far.

“you know they weren’t really flirting, right?” you ask quietly, not wanting to make the mood too awkward. “they do it to be funny, or mess with you, that’s all.” soobin nods and looks down, suddenly becoming more interested in a stray thread on your pajama pants.

“could you wrap your arms around me, please?” you ask, you’d been sitting on his lap the entire time while his arms were off to the side. he looks at you and immediately relaxes after seeing your eyes full of adoration. even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. he wraps his arms around you and sighs in content.

“I love you, soobin.” you stroke his cheek softly. “the love of my life. my entire world. I know the boys are just messing with you and deep down you know it too, but even if it were a stranger on the street, I still wouldn’t pay them any mind.” you explain to him. “there’s no need, because I have everything i’ve ever dreamed of right here.”

“you are the only one I love, yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for the rest of my life.” you finish. soobin buries his head in your neck as you slip your hands under his shirt to rub circles on his back. “my soob, my home.” soon enough, you feel tears on your shoulder and soobin’s body starting to shake. “oh baby... hey, please look at me...” you lift his head and the sight nearly makes you melt. a red nose, puffy cheeks, and tear-stained eyes staring back at you with all the love in the world. you wipe his tears as he apologizes.

“i’m sorry.” he sniffles. “don’t apologize.” you reassure him, trying not to cry yourself. “no really, I overreacted and I just-” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “it wasn’t about yeonjun… I was just scared of losing you.” he explains. a few seconds pass before he continues. “for a split second, I imagined a moment where you really left me for someone else… and it absolutely killed me.” soobin chokes up once again. “and here you are… treating me so gently… like i’m the most precious thing on earth… I just started getting emotional.”

“I really love you,” he confesses, “I love you so much, baby.” at this point, your attempts to stay sane are thrown out the window. “noooo, angel…” he frowns at the sight of you crying, wiping your tears just like you wiped his. “i’m sorry.” he whines. you give him a knowing look and he chuckles. “right, no apologizing!”

after a while of sniffling and wiping tears, you stare at each other. the room is silent. nothing matters except you two and the love you share. eventually, he leans in and kisses your lips. “thank you for cherishing me.” he whispers. “it’s the easiest thing in the world, my love.” you kiss his nose. “I promise that I would never go anywhere.” you crawl back under the covers and finally turn the lamp off. the night ends peacefully with soobin placing soft kisses down your neck and wrapped around you like a koala once again.

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth.

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him.

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness.

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess.

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step.

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side.

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace.

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell.

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch.

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe.

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you.

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different.

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose.

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #st oneshots #eddie spaghetti oneshot

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princessofmarvel · 9 months

Text

saving goes both ways

summary | thomas had seen the girl around. she worked at the garrison, showed up one random day, no one knew where she was from. most people didn’t bat an eye, most people aren’t thomas shelby.

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.2k

genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!

warnings! | mentions of an abusive family and ex! (it’s just mentioned, nothing is really described), not completely proofread! author’s note! | i’m back! my requests are open for these characters! please send in your requests for blurbs, headcanons, or imagines! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas had seen the girl around. She worked at the garrison, showed up one random day, no one knew where she was from. Most people didn’t bat an eye, most people aren’t Thomas Shelby.

“We’re closed” she said as he walked through the door. He ignored her for the most part and set down.

“Get me a drink.” he practically mumbled, to anyone else that would mean to just do as he says, and not ask questions. Not her though.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Shelby?” She asked in the kind of voice one would use to come off as caring.

“Just need to not think for a moment.” He said as she finished pouring his drink. “Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean?” She asked him with a slight head tilt as she handed his drink to him.

“You showed up out of nowhere one day, no one knows anything about you.”

“Are you asking about me, Mr. Shelby?”

“Yes, I am, I need to know the people in this town, who my threats may be.” He said while taking a sip of the drink she poured for him, and keeping eye contact, something he did to be intimidating.

“Do I look like a threat to you?” She asked with a small laugh. She looked like the most terrifying threat that Thomas could think of. She looked like an angel, one that was sent just for him, Thomas could swear that when she smiled she glowed.

“I have learned that the most non threatening looking people can become the most deadly.” He said while not phasing one bit. “Now, where are you from?”

The girl sighed, Thomas could tell that wherever it was that she came from that she didn’t really want to relive it. “I’m from london”

A few weeks went by, and that seemed to be all the information that he could get out of her. That she was from London. He didn’t want to push her, everytime he asked her, she got a look in her eyes that he hated to see, as if it tore his heart into a thousand little pieces. He knew that no matter what it was, someone, or something had hurt her, and how anyone could hurt such a person was beyond Thomas.

One afternoon while everyone other than Thomas was out of the Shelby home, there was a sudden banging on the door.

“Who is- (Y/n)?” Thomas asked while pulling the girl into the home. Once he had her inside with the door shut he took in her appearance. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. She looked almost sick, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Her hair was messy, and she was shaking from head to toe. “What’s wrong?”

“I- Oh Mr. Shelby, if you were about to head out, I can leave. I shouldn't have barged in.” She said as she noticed him taking his jacket back off. She went to leave, but Thomas grabbed her wrist.

“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened.” He said while looking at her sternly. He led her to sit on the couch while he stood over her, waiting to hear what happened.

“I haven’t told you much about my family, but I come from a wealthy family in London, and they wanted me to marry this cruel, cruel man, so the night before the wedding I ran, and that's how I ended up here, but I think they’ve found me.” She said while handing him a flier with a drawing of her face, and a man's contact information on it, and a reward of $5,000 on it for anyone that had any information.

“This is the name of the cruel man that you were talking about?” Thomas asked her while he pointed to the name on the flier as she nodded. “Where are you staying?”

“A small inn not too far from here.” She said while trying to wipe her eyes but failing at it since she was still crying.

“Get your things, you’re staying here, and I’ll take care of it.” He said, while putting his jacket back on.

“Mr. Shelby, I can‘t do that, I have no money to pay you for this, or the rent.” She said while standing up , but Thomas cut her off.

“You don’t have to pay me for any of it, just come on, and we’ll go get your things.” He said while guiding her out of the house, and walking with her to her inn.

A week went by and the girl was now living with the Shelbys, and it was safe to say that they loved having her around. Ada loved having a girl other than Polly to talk to. John and Arthur had a great time teaching her how to play cards the correct way (and showing her how to shoot a gun, but Thomas didn’t need to know about that). Polly loved how she helped keep the boys in their places when they got too rowdy. And, Thomas loved, well everything.

She was in the kitchen, kicking Arthur and Johns’ asses at cards, when Thomas walked in.

“Tommy, she's cheating!” John yelled while pointing at her.

“I am not!” She yells back at John in a tone that makes her sound offended.

“She isn’t, you’re just awful at cards.” Thomas said to John, while he looked at the girls cards. “Lucky for you though, I need to steal her for a moment.”

Thomas takes the girl into the betting room since no one was currently there. “I just wanted to tell you that it’s been taken care of.” He says while leaning back on the table.

“Really?! Oh Mr. Shelby, thank you so much!” The girl said while practically bouncing up and down, making Thomas crack a small smile, but it quickly disappeared as she made her next comment.

“I will just get my things, and be out of your hair, thank you so much for letting me stay here, Mr. Shelby.” She said while looking at him, with a small smile.

“You don’t have to move out.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that to your family.”

“(Y/n)” Thomas said, making her stop. He made his way across the room to her. “The whole family loves having you here, besides, it’s not like the entire city doesn’t already see you as a Shelby.”

“The city sees me as a Shelby?” The girl questioned with a slight smile on her face.

“They might as well, I mean it’s not like one of us Shelby brothers are not going to officially make you one at some point.” He said to her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just depends on which one of us is your preference.”

“Well, I think I have a preference.” She said to him, while leaning slightly closer to him,

“Which one?” he said, looking straight at her.

“The one standing in front of me. The man that saved me” She said to him, looking up at him with a smile.

Thomas stared at her for just a moment, before taking her face in his hands and catching his lips with hers. She kissed him back, with her hands on the back of his neck.

“I think you’re saving us too, I’ve never seen the family so happy.” He mumbled into her lips as he pulled away

“Well, I guess it can go both ways.” She said to him while smiling at him, and for the first time, she felt completely safe.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shleby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby peaky blinders #tommy shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders

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mo-mode · 3 months

Text

Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

#THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #I swear I can be so helpful Rick #hire me #i’m a screenwriter i promise i’m legit #btw this is NOT an opportunity to say you hate the show in the notes I will find you #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #percy jackson tv show #pjo spoilers #percy jackson the lightning thief #pjo series #screenwriting #grover underwood #annabeth chase #hermes

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kentolove · 2 years

Text

“dump your bf if he’s never given you flowers before”

He tries to console himself.

Really, he does.

He tells himself that it’s really not that serious, and all you did was like a tweet saying to dump your boyfriend if he’s never given you flowers before.

Has he ever given you flowers?

He thinks of your one month anniversary, then your six month, then your one year, then your two year anniversary, and how none of them were spent with a beautiful flowery confection in your hands.

He recalls your first date, how it was spent inside a small cafe where you both spilled your hearts to one another. He knows he never bought you any flowers. Yamaguchi proposed the idea, but he quickly shut him off with a, “what kind of bullshit is that? It’s only the first date, that’s too… romantic, I guess.”

Fuck, he should’ve listened to him. Yamaguchi is never wrong. Never.

He’s learned his lesson now.

The next time he sees you (an excruciating ten minutes after he’s seen your liked tweet) he sits you down on his lap.

“What’s this for?” You smile, and it’s that pretty one that nearly makes Tsukishima melt down to the ground.

“I have a question.”

“Okay,” you grab his cheeks into your two palms and squish his face together. He normally hates the action and immediately pushes your hands away, but he doesn’t have time for that now. Not when you’d break up with him for not buying you flowers.

“Would you ever break up with me?”

Your head tilts to the side in genuine confusion. Break up with your Kei?

“Don’t think too much into it.” He flicks your forehead gently. He can already tell your train of thought, and how you tend to overthink every detail of your life, so he slows your brain down.

“Uh, maybe if you cheated on me? But I think I’d kill you before I broke up with you, yeah.”

Okay. Yeah. He’s fine with that answer. He can live with that.

Maybe he can’t.

It’s been nearly a month since he last asked you that question, and it still haunts him to this day.

He thinks that maybe one day you’ll come home and tell him that you’re sick of him, that he doesn’t deserve you, and you’ll pack all your bags and leave.

It stresses him out so much, that he vents. He vents. To Bokuto Kōtarō of all people. (He’s gone mad!)

Bokuto does the most Bokuto thing you’d expect, and gives Tsukishima the most obvious answer.

“Well why don’t you just buy them flowers then?”

“It’s not that easy, dumbass.”

“I think it is… I mean, you’re sad you haven’t bought them flowers, so buy them flowers. Problem fixed.”

He leaves the conversation utterly dissatisfied. Until the next day, at 3AM, Tsukishima Kei has a eureka! moment.

“I’ll just buy them flowers!”

(He jolts out of bed with a force so strong that he wakes you up.

You groan, sleepy and with drool at the corner of your mouth, “what are you yelling for? Go back to bed, Kei.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, to nobody in particular, “I’ll just buy you flowers.)

He leaves the house that morning, at around 9AM with a mission in mind. He’s going to the flower shop.

Tsukishima enters the small store with hesitation, staring at all the beautiful plants and flowers with skepticism. Which ones would you like? What if you’re allergic to the one he picks out?

“Hello? How can I help you, sir?” A nice lady with a baby pink apron approaches him. She smiles, and Tsukishima thinks he’s being far too dramatic. It’s just some flowers.

“Uh, I’m looking for flowers that send the message of ‘I love you’ or something like that.”

The lady smiles even brighter.

Your boyfriend walks into your home with a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath blooms. The arrangement is huge, big enough to cover the entirety of your Kei’s head.

“What’s this?” You ask, when he approaches you and places the roses on your lap.

“They’re for you.”

“Really?” Your eyes are as bright as he’s ever seen them, as dazzling as the sun in the sky.

And he can’t believe that he’s deprived himself of this. Of seeing you so happy over something so mundane—so simple—that your eyes shine brighter than all the lights in the night sky.

He loves you. And you love your Kei. (And those red roses, too.)

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kinopio-writes · 2 months

Note

Hey love your works they are absolutely fantastic ❤️

This is an odd request but would you mind doing a Adam x Fem! Reader that is in the situation like Morty and Mr. Jellybean was? It is 100% a-okay if you don’t do this especially if it’s uncomfortable but I just wanted to know Adams reaction. Ignore if you are uncomfortable and/or just don’t want to do this ask!

Love your works!! 🥰🥰

A/N: Aww, thank you for the kind words :] I only have two works in total, lol. And, uh, I haven’t watched Rick and Morty, but I did search for some scenes on YouTube. Based on what I saw, do you mean to say how Adam would react if the reader was sexually harassed? Tell me if I’m wrong because holy hell did watching the scenes make me uncomfortable. And someone commented that it’s a really accurate depiction of what happens. Disturbing.

Words: 1,034 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Sexual harassment implied, Violence (because of Adam)

———

How Adam would react if Fem!Reader was sexually harassed…

In the middle of writing this, I just remembered that they live in Heaven. So I don’t know how or why a molester would end up in Heaven. Even if there was one, they likely got booted off immediately, so just imagine a sinner somehow managed to sneak into Heaven.

• Adam’s reaction would completely change depending on who you are to him (if you two just met for a date or are casual bang buddies)

• so I’ll just give you the best one for comfort (at least the best Adam could give) and make you two be in a close relationship (not GF and BF though. But you two go on not-so-platonic dates sometimes)

• I also think it’s good to mention that I try to keep Adam’s character as accurate as possible

• it might make him seem insensitive, so I suggest going to the last section if you’re here for comfort (the last section has a blue ‘•••’)

———

Adam recommended a place that had been recently open for a while. He actually burst through your front door to go there the day it was open.

Unfortunately for him, you were busy and will be for the next few weeks as well. Something about work that he didn’t bother to listen to because it was, well, about boring shit.

But now, you managed to get the whole week off, so Adam has you all for himself. And his first action of business was to get you to chillax. What better way to do that than to hang out with him?

He was so fucking hyped. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you try out the food there!

You two were going to have so much fun!

•••

“We need to go,” was what you suddenly decided after you came back from the bathroom, voice emotionless and firm.

Adam stared at you as if you grew horns and a tail. “Why? The fuck happened?”

Your face faltered at his question. “We need to go. Please.”

“Uh, it hasn’t even been an hour. Now get over here and fucking eat.” You only did so after a moment he munched on his burger, but not in the way he expected. You hid near his seat, gripping on the legs as you made yourself as small as possible. “The fuck are you doing?” He paused before grinning suggestively. “Learn some decency, (Name), jeez. If you wanted to…suck…”

Adam trailed off as he watched someone come out of the women’s bathroom, badly beaten and bruised. He…it didn’t have a halo on its head, and its attempt to cover up its slender and angled horns was fucking stupid.

His playful expression dropped and it shifted to anger when he saw it looking around, around for you.

You suddenly felt a strong gust of wind as the plates and glasses clattered on the table you were hiding behind. You peeked from your spot to witness Adam ruthlessly and relentlessly punch the sinner’s face, a hand slowly going over your mouth at the display of violence. You didn’t know he could be so brutal. He was saying things that didn’t reach your ears, but you knew they weren’t pleasant.

You only felt yourself move after you saw Adam lift his arms in the air, hands accompanied by holy light. “Wait! Adam, Adam, stop!”

“What!” He turned around to face you momentarily as he shrugged your hand off of his shoulder. “Let me at ʼim—!”

“Adam, you’re causing a scene,” you whispered, glancing around at the growing audience.

Adam was offended. “I’m helping!” He flapped his wings to stand up, his anger now directed at you. “You’re just going to let a Sinner do you like that? Huh!”

“I just want to go home.”

He stared at your face for a moment. “Whatever.” He scowled at the Sinner one last time before he began making his way outside. You quietly followed after him. “This place is lame, anyway.”

The whole walk, you kept your head down as Adam gave the finger and a nasty look to anyone who ignorantly tried to approach you to cheer you up.

•••

You didn’t know when you got home; you didn’t even know Adam stayed with you until he spoke up.

“Uh…do you need, like, shit, I dunno…something?” You heard the ruffling of his wings and the shuffling of his clothing. “I could order delivery. There’s this place I’ve been…” You further curled yourself into a ball on your bed. You didn’t remember when you got there. “Actually, maybe you should pick where this time, huh? How’s that sound?”

When you didn’t respond, Adam lowered his arms, his smile fading into a frown.

He debated whether or not to leave you here before you scooted to the farthest side of the bed, turning yourself over to face him but avoiding eye contact as you patted the spot you were just in.

Adam took one glance behind him before he slipped into bed beside you, hands on his tummy as he stared at your ceiling.

The silence was uncomfortable for Adam. He desperately wanted to fill it with some chatter. Without it, it felt as though there was no one with him in the room.

As if you read his mind, your hands hugged his arm, and it numbed his unease, if only for a moment. He extended the time by placing a hand on yours, caressing them with his thumb.

“I don’t want to see this,” you suddenly spoke after a minute.

“Huh?” He looked down at you, still not making eye contact with him.

“Take your mask off.”

He scoffed and turned down your request, “You’re not even looking at me.”

“Take it off,” you repeated more firmly.

“Why?”

“Then I’ll take it off.” You reached out to grab his horns, pulling them upwards. When it didn’t comply, you kneeled on the bed and pulled harder. “How do you take it off?”

“Why do you wanna see me so badly? Just go to sleep already.”

“Not until you take that off.”

“I’ll stay with you until you wake up,” he attempted to bargain.

“Adam.” You gave up on removing his mask yourself. “Take it off.”

He hesitated before sighing heavily, easily tugging it off of his head and tossing it on the nightstand.

With his real face revealed, you were able to look at him. His golden eyes brought you solace, and his human-like features gave you relief.

“There. Better?” he asked bitterly as he averted his eyes from yours. “Now go to sleep.” After that, Adam tried to face his back toward you, but you leaned over and held his face and shoulder, pulling him back. “What is it now—”

“You said you’ll stay with me until I wake up.”

“I will,” he said as if you were doubting him, but he knew you weren’t.

Satisfied with his promise, you stared into the soft glow of his eyes as yours started to grow heavy.

In the last moments of your consciousness, you felt yourself get pulled closer to something soft, and you heard the sound of ruffling as warmth enveloped you.

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 months

Text

No Such Thing As Monsters

Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, injury

“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”

“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”

“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”

“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.

“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”

“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.

“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”

Eight Hours Later

Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.

“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.

“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut.

“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.

“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean repressing?” you asked.

“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.

“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.

“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”

“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”

“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”

“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.

“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.

“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.

“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.

“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.

“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”

Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time.

“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.

“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”

“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.

“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.

“Sam that is not-”

“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”

Two Days Later

“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner.

“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath.

“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”

“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”

“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”

“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”

“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.

“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”

“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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prismatic-bell · 10 months

Text

It’s 4am and I’m having emotions about calling Mesopotamia “the cradle of civilization” so y’all are just going to have to bear with me.

Like okay, there are technically six so-called cradles of civilization: Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, ancient China, ancient India, and two civilizations in south and Central America called the Olmec (Mexico) and Caral-Supe (Peru). But the one we all learn about in school is Mesopotamia, bleeding into Egypt.

But.

The oldest of those is the Fertile Crescent (Egypt, the Levant, Mesopotamia), clocking in around 12,000 BCE. That’s the 121st century BCE, if you’re wondering. “Behavioral modernity,” I.e. the thing that separates Homo sapiens from Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis, began 160,000 to 60,000 years ago. Homo sapiens was found in most of Africa before ever beginning the migration to other continents—by over 80,000 years, in some cases.

And we all know how Africa got treated in the post-Roman era.

How do we know there was no cradle of civilization in Africa? Like. It’s generally taken that “cradle of civilization” means cities, agriculture, and usually-but-not-always a writing system. We also know that if all humans on earth disappeared right now, in 15,000 years the only sign we were ever here would be a millimeters-thin line of plastic in the geologic record. And that’s in a world where we have stainless steel, concrete, the ability to carve in stone…

What I’m saying is, the oldest piece of string in the world is 50,000 years old and it was found in a cave. Huge swathes of Africa used to be green and lush. If some group ten thousand years ago decided to build a settlement out of mud bricks and tied-up pieces of wood in the African jungle, we’d never know today. The entire thing would have washed out and rotted away centuries ago. “Okay but agriculture—” one, not all agriculture is white people agriculture, and some of it is so different we wouldn’t recognize it at all (consider the terraforming east coast Native tribes did in North America that was so different from European farming methods it was taken as divine intervention in primeval forest). And two, I forget how many years it’s estimated to take before our fancy modern crops return to their wild roots once we’re gone, but I’m pretty sure it’s less than a hundred. We literally would have no way to tell anything was ever there.

And let’s say something did, by some miracle of preservation, survive to the “modern cradles of civilization.” Would it have survived subsequent wars and colonization? How about the changing climate as continents broke apart and ice ages came and went? Would we even have found it, given how gigantic it is and how little regard it’s received through the years?

Like. I could be totally wrong. But I also don’t see why it’s impossible for a civilization to have popped up in Africa like thirty thousand years ago for a century or two and then everyone went “ah, fuck this” and went back to being nomads. It happened at Cahokia. The city was abandoned and we don’t know why, but we do know there’s no evidence the mound-builders ever tried to rebuild somewhere else. And right here in my proverbial backyard, in Arizona, we had the Sinagua tribe, and in like the 1500s or so they just…dipped. There was a whole city built into the side of a cliff (two of them, actually, a few miles apart) and for unknown reasons they were abandoned. Archaeological evidence suggests the Sinagua moved northeast to join the Yavapai and Hopi tribes, but we have no idea why they left the Verde Valley. Water was still plentiful and even if Beaver Creek had started to dry up in summer—which is what it does today—only five miles away was a second city built around a sinkhole that’s still full of water today year-round (although it’s not potable by modern standards due to arsenic content in the water). Both were abandoned sometime in the 1400s for unknown reasons, and before you say “white people,” I will remind you white people didn’t come to America until 1492 and the site wasn’t discovered until over 100 years after it was abandoned.

So yeah. Maybe ancient civilizations in Africa so long ago, or so thoroughly erased by racist Europeans, that we’ll never know.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

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imaginesmai · 7 months

Text

Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

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