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nickfowlerrr · 10 months

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i never thought you’d happen to me - 2

part one / part three

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, bit of angst. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. some morally dubious homemade porn viewing 💀. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 6.7k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

Back at the house, your house, you wander around the living room as Bucky sits on the tablet in the kitchen, consumed by whatever it is he's looking through.

You stop at the large bookshelf that's screwed into the wall, the picture frames all around catching your attention.

You smile at the baby pictures of the twins, admiring their tiny faces as you and Bucky each hold one, looking down at them like they were the only things in the world that mattered. You note how close you are to Bucky in the photo, practically in his lap as you lean into him.

Your eyes drift down the case before landing on a gorgeous shot, breathtaking, really.

You're in white, the elegant dress you don seemingly straight out of your dreams as you recline into Bucky who stands behind you, his arms around your waist as your hands cover his. You're smiling as he appears to be whispering something in your ear, a smile of his own evident as he does.

It's intimate and delicate and it seizes your heart as you can't seem to take your eyes off of it.

Your mind can't seem to make sense of it, though.

How do you get from here to there? How can you ever have this life? It seems so unreal.

Bucky can’t stand you more than half the time, he's made that fact abundantly clear. So how the hell does he go from that to this? What changes? Why?

The sound of your name being called gets your attention as you wipe at your welling eyes. You hadn't noticed it happening, but you felt it when you finally blinked and looked away from the photo.

"Yeah?"

"My card is linked to this thing apparently, I was gonna order food."

"Okay," you breathe.

"What do you want?"

"I don't care. Whatever is fine," you brush off as you finally turn around and meet his eye. "I'm gonna shower."

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't take his eyes off of you either, watching you intently as you pass him and walk back to the room.

----

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The car ride back to the house seemed longer without the twins there to distract you from your close proximity to Bucky. And being alone together once you finally got back, despite the huge space allotted to you in this house, still seemed stifling. There was a growing tension between you that was more than ready to break.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling.

It seemed to be ever present when you two were around each other and only intensified the longer you were alone with one another.

As you began undressing, starting the water for your shower, your mind wandered to the last time you found yourself in such close quarters with him.

You were both beyond exhausted when you’d gotten back to the tower after your mission. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as anyone would have hoped, but you got the job done, if not just a little worse for wear.

You were leaning against the right side of the elevator, facing the door as Bucky stood closer to the left side, facing the same direction as you. It was quiet, and though your body was sore beyond belief, you mentally chided yourself for not just taking the stairs. You’d just finished giving him a piece of your mind after he made yet another unhelpful comment about how you could have easily avoided being flung down a flight of stairs earlier.

Crazy as it might have seemed, receiving a play by play of every tiny misstep you’d taken after a mission as grueling as that one didn’t go over too well with you. Especially as you stood with bandaged ribs, miscellaneous cuts, bumps, and bruises all over your body, and what you were sure was a concussion causing the throbbing in your head.

You closed your eyes as you let your head rest against the wall, one hand on the rail and the other holding your duffel.

A sudden jerking had your eyes snapping open as you held tighter to the railing to keep your balance, the light above shutting off briefly before a dimmer one returned as the elevator completely stopped moving.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you groused under your breath before sinking down to the floor in utter exhaustion. The elevator had been on the fritz since before you had even left for the mission last week, you assumed they would’ve gotten it fixed by the time you returned. Clearly you were wrong.

You watched as Bucky hit random buttons on the panel in front of him in a vain attempt to get the thing to move again. You wanted to say something snarky but just sighed exaggeratedly instead. After a moment, still no words spoken between either of you, Bucky took out his emergency phone and called for help.

You didn’t pay much attention to his conversation as the pressure in your head grew, but his next words caught your attention completely.

“What the hell do you mean an hour?” he nearly growled into the phone.

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation well but there were only so many people he could have called at this hour that would be able to help and the snicker that made its way through the line had you betting on Stark.

He hung up and chanced a glance to you, meeting your gaze. “Might be a while,” he huffed before looking away.

He approached the doors of the elevator and you winced at the sound they emitted as he pulled them open slightly. He was greeted by nothing but the walls of the elevator shaft before he allowed the doors to close again. You watched as he checked the time on his phone before he sat down himself. You let your eyes shut again, your tiredness winning out in the quiet settling over you. It was maybe ten minutes later when you were rudely awoken by Bucky.

You were impressed with his bravery because you could still feel your irritation roiling off of you from your earlier exchange. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his fingers brush against the bruise on your jaw.

“What?” you asked harshly, swatting his hand away from you as you shot daggers at him with your glare.

“Considering how often you find yourself in the med bay, you’d think you’d know the basics of what not to do when it comes to head trauma.”

“Jesus Christ, you just never fucking stop, do you,” you huffed before snapping completely. “I get it, Bucky, okay? I’m a fuck up, I’m reckless and careless and I don’t think before I act, is that what you wanna hear? Are you happy now? I admit it! I’m everything you say I am. But at the end of the day, I have never put you or anyone else in harm’s way. And just a reminder, I got the files and took out everyone I needed to along the way by myself. So I don’t know, maybe give me a little fucking credit for once,” you raged, the pain in your body only adding to your anger.

“This isn’t about me or the mission getting done or anyone else,” he fired back, his tone catching you off guard, though you refused to show it, “I’m never worried about any of that. But you are careless. Look at you! You put yourself in needless danger over and over again, and yeah, it pisses me off. You always end up hurt when you never should have been in the position to get hurt to begin with. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? I’m your partner, I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back and yet every assignment, you continue to go out of your way to make it damn near impossible for me to do.”

“Your job isn’t to keep me from getting hurt,” you deflected, not wanting to focus on the way his words were making you feel as you flicked your eyes away from his burning blue ones. It was too confusing. A mix of care and chastation you were having trouble processing at once.

“And yours isn’t to get killed in some pathetic attempt to prove yourself,” he shot back before his tone quieted significantly. “You have nothing to prove,” he finished.

Your gaze softened at that, a sense of embarrassment coming over you at how clearly he saw through you; The simultaneous feeling of validation his last words offered had the previous tension you felt in your anger lightening before you let your eyes slowly return to his.

There was a thick silence between you as you looked at one another, nothing but your slowing breaths to be heard. His gaze wasn’t as harsh now, but it still took a lot out of you to hold it. The intensity his eyes held was unmatched. You hadn’t realized before, how much closer he had gotten to you, but it was evident now as you nearly felt yourself buzzing - suddenly all too aware of everything in the confined void you’d found yourselves in.

And then, you couldn’t say why or how, but you found your eyes falling to his lips. A stuttered breath leaving you as inadvertently leaned in a bit closer to him.

That wasn’t you, though, you’d realized after a split second, one hand reaching up to hold the rail.

The elevator jolted a bit as it began to move again, only a few seconds passing before the ding signaling its arrival at the top floor sounded. You were still looking at one another, maybe more intensely than you’d realized, when the doors slid open.

“Uh-oh, did I interrupt something? Let me guess, lover’s quarrel?”

Your gaze quickly turned into a glare as you both turned to see Tony waiting at the doors for you.

You rolled your eyes and got up as quickly as you could, trying to hide your winces of pain as you did.

“Fuck off,” you said as you brushed past him.

“Is that your catchphrase now?” he called after you, “Ya know, I like it, it suits you.”

You remember how embarrassed you were after that night, praying that Bucky hadn’t noticed where your eyes had drifted to, or if he did that he’d have the decency to pretend he hadn’t. You’d chalked it up to a moment of weakness. You weren’t stupid enough to expect him to return your (very well kept to yourself) feelings. You never expected anything out of him, and honestly you’d been trying to shake them yourself since you’d been partnered up. You avoided him for a good week straight after that night, and neither of you has brought it up since.

Even now, you could pretend all you wanted that those feelings didn’t exist, but deep down, you knew they were alive and well. And clearly, as you looked again at the picture of you and Bucky sitting on the bedside table, it wasn’t something you could believably go on denying much longer.

The shower helped. Kind of. You feel better physically, but your mind is still dead set on trying to figure out the future. You take your time drying off and getting into a clean pair of pajamas while Bucky waits in the kitchen.

He's scrolling through every app he can, trying to piece together his future as it stands. And if he's being honest, trying to figure out how the hell he was able to get you to stop hating him. How he was able to get you to fall in love with him..

He opens up the photo library, grinning as he sees photo after photo of the twins, and some family photos, pictures of you, pictures of him, intermingled in.

He backs out of the gallery and scrolls down mindlessly through the albums. His eyes land on the "Hidden" tab and he clicks on it without too much thought, his face unlocking it and granting him access.

His eyes go wide, his mouth goes dry at the images that liter the screen.

He should close out, look away, something, but he doesn't. The scandalous photos grab him and he just can't. One icon in particular catches his eye and he clicks on it without thinking, the video playing instantly.

He watches the screen intently, hunching over the tablet as he holds it tightly in his hands. Sees himself leave from in front of the camera, his movement revealing you as you wait for him on your bed. You're peering up at him attentively as he approaches you before you spare a glance to the camera and then back to him. A soft smirk playing on your lips as he towers over you, causing you to look up further and further as you recline until you’re on your back.

“Hi,” you simper breathily, earning a smirk from him in return.

“Hi,” he breathed, leaning ever closer.

He watches as you scoot back on the bed and he follows you, his hands tracing down your curves, fingers playing with the material of your lingerie before he drops his head and begins trailing kisses from the softness of your stomach, up your sternum and along your neck before finally your lips meet.

Bucky is completely enraptured in the scene playing out before his very eyes. He’s sitting here feeling jealous of himself as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you before you bring a leg up around his hip, arching your body into his own.

It’s sensual at first but you both seem to grow impatient quickly as your kissing heats up and becomes more and more hungry.

Finally, you slip a hand down and tug at the waistband of his boxers until he pulls away.

Bucky can see your face perfectly, your eyes are dark as you push yourself up onto your forearms, watching him.

Instead of ridding himself of his boxers right away, he slowly, teasingly drags your silky underwear down your thick thighs as you watch him with heavy eyes, your legs spread just for him.

“Look at the camera,” he hears his own voice command.

Your eyes flick from him to the lens as Bucky swallows thickly, still completely unable to look anywhere but you.

You gasp suddenly as he quickly buries his face between your thighs, your fingers tightening in his hair as your head lolls back some. Your soft moans begin tumbling past your lips as he focuses his attention solely on you, devoted and unrelenting as you mewl and writhe under his ministrations.

When a whimper of his name leaves you, it causes Bucky to shift in his seat, trying to ease the ache growing in his shorts as he watches you rock yourself against his face.

“Buck,” you moan, “please,” you whine with a tug of his hair.

He watches as your toes curl, feet arching, and your entire body seems to tense around him, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth hangs open until your legs quake and you let out a tight, shaky whimper on an exhale. You bite your knuckle in an attempt to keep yourself quiet while he continues working you through your orgasm.

When he finally lets up and gives you a chance to collect yourself, he moves up your body, finding your lips as he kisses you again, leaving you even more breathless than you had been.

“It’s just you and me tonight, doll. Don’t hold back on me,” he kisses you again, his hands going around your back to undo your bra. “I’m gonna wanna hear you when I watch this back,” he smirks.

You're completely naked as Bucky stands before you, finally taking off his boxers. “Turn around for me,” he tells you.

You do as he says, getting on all fours with him situated perfectly behind you. He angles you both so the camera has a better view. Bucky watches as he teases your entrance with his tip, over and over again as you whine and wiggle your ass in pure desperation for him.

He keeps the volume low as he lets the video play, he isn’t sure how much time passes as his eyes are glued to the screen, watching himself take you as you let him. He listens to how prettily you cry for him, to the salacious sounds of his cock driving into you over and over, the wet squelching mixing with the slapping of skin as he fucks you hard.

Bucky feels his cock twitching in his shorts as he watches you come for him before hearing himself groan deeply, moaning while he empties his load into your pretty cunt.

He watches the come down, sees himself running his hands along your skin, peppering kisses all over your body, before you roll over beneath him, pulling him down to you and kissing him desperately.

He is entirely unsure about the morality of this all, but he can't look away.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he breathes heavily as he pulls away from you just so. "Thank you, sweetheart," he grins lazily, stroking your cheek.

"Mmm,” you hum contentedly as you look up at him before continuing, “If anyone ever sees this, I'll kill you," you promise him with an 'I mean it' stare before pulling him back to you, crashing your lips together.

"No one'll see it, doll. I promise. For my eyes only," he says as he nuzzles into you. "You have no idea how much I miss you when I'm gone, baby."

"I think I have some idea," you respond, the sultry tone of your voice effortless as you wrap a leg around him.

It looks like you're about to go for another round, and the thirty minutes left in the video seem to confirm that thought, when Bucky hears the door of the bedroom finally opening.

He quickly closes out of the video, sliding the tablet away from himself before trying to hide and adjust his very obvious erection before you come in.

He clears his throat loudly, a bit awkwardly, as you enter the kitchen, earning a questioning brow from you as you walk toward the pizza box.

"You good?" you ask him as you grab a slice, not bothering with a plate.

He nods a bit too stiffly for your liking as you assess him. His cheeks are a little flush and he can't seem to look you in the eye.

"What did you do?" you question accusatorily.

"Nothing. I'm gonna shower now, if that's alright with you?" he questions haughtily.

You make a face at his tone, rolling your eyes as you turn around to grab a glass for water.

He doesn't mean for it to happen, but as you turn from him, his eyes fall to your ass, and he has to work to stop the groan that threatens to tumble from his lips as his mind replays the video for him.

Fucking creep, he chides himself as his cock twitches again. He takes the opportunity to stand and get to the bathroom as your back is to him.

---

You're on your third piece of pizza when Bucky returns to the kitchen, grabbing a slice for himself.

He's spent the last half hour going over in his mind exactly how you two could have possibly ended up here. He's still confused. And at his wit’s end.

Bucky speaks before he can think better of it.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue, causing you to turn toward him with quizzical eyes as you swallow your bite.

"Excuse me?" you ask in disbelief.

"Why do you hate me?" he repeats himself, his gaze never faltering as he holds your stare.

You're honestly dumbfounded.

You sputter for a second before attempting to form actual words. "I don't hate you, Bucky," you answer as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And seeing your future, you were pretty sure it must have been. "I mean, clearly," you add a little embarrassed for yourself.

"No? Then why do you act like you do?"

"I -,” you’re about to deny the accusation, but truthfully, you know he’s right. So you pause before giving the only answer you can come up with. “I don't know. Self-preservation?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Defense mechanism. I mean, you've been a complete dick to me since day one, Bucky. Am I supposed to just let you ream me whenever you feel like it - justified or not. And for the record, most of the time, it's not. You treat me differently from everyone else, sidelining me over nothing, questioning my every move, and I don't know why but I stopped trying to figure it out a while ago," you spoke candidly.

He was quiet for a minute as he took in your words. You watched as his brows furrowed, his gaze dropping as he licked his lips mindlessly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said at last. It was soft, but sincere as a pained look seemed to have taken over his face. "I never meant to make you feel that way. But clearly I did. It's just.. you're so stubborn," he says with a shake of his head as his eyes meet yours once again. "I do treat you differently. Because, truthfully, you fucking terrify me. You can be reckless; you act like you're expendable, and you're not. You're the furthest thing from it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. And maybe I was too scared to actually voice that aloud before, but it is the truth. I don't know, I guess, I thought I was keeping you safe somehow, protecting you. And I know you don't need me to. I'm sorry. For being a dick, for interfering when I shouldn't have, and for not talking to you about things before. I am sorry."

You’re silent and quietly awed at his admission, swallowing hard before forcing yourself to break away from his brilliant blue gaze.

"Thank you," you accept, not knowing where to go from here. "Good to know you don't hate me," you add.

"Yeah, same here," he smiles softly. Another moment passes before you speak again, something unspoken growing between you.

"So, just to be clear, was that you admitting that...you like me?" you ask, hearing how juvenile you sound but not really caring all that much.

"That was me admitting that I care about you."

You take a breath and nod, "Oh, okay. So, you don't like me?"

"I didn't say that," he almost scoffs.

"So you do like me?" you ask again with a furrowed brow.

"Jesus, doll," he laughs lightly, "We're married."

"Not yet," you counter.

Bucky walks toward you, pizza long forgotten by you both as he suddenly gets to his knees before you while you stay seated in the chair, his face right about level to yours as you watch him with stilled breath.

His eyes are blazing a fiery blue as he holds your gaze. You have to blink at the intensity.

"I like you," he breathes quietly, careful not to break the soft air of intimacy as you stay so close to each other, earning a small smile from you in turn.

"I told Kate I had a crush on you during recruitment, that's why she always makes comments about us going on missions together so often," you admit unprompted, the urge to tell him the embarrassing secret you'd tried to keep hidden from the moment you let it slip to Kate just overcoming you.

Bucky smiles boyishly at that. "Steve was convinced from the beginning I had a thing for you, that's why we go out on missions together so often."

You can't fight the half smile that adorns your lips at his words, "Was he right?" you question.

He nods.

"He was right," he whispers as he leans in closer to you. "Does our future not make that obvious?" he teases.

You don't think as you lean into him, one hand finding the back of his head and raking your fingers through the soft, dark brown strands as you breathe a bit heavier with anticipation, you watch as his eyes close at your touch, leaning ever closer. You’re sure he can hear the uptick of your heart as he meets your gaze once again, before your eyes flit to his lips.

You shrug, a playful tilt to your lips.

"I can think of some other things that might make it more obvious," you murmur as you let your forehead press against his own, waiting for him to close the distance between your lips now.

His hand comes up to gently hold your face before he slowly brushes his lips against yours.

It's soft and gentle as you kiss him again, but after a moment, one kiss turning into another and then another, your lips press harder against each other, hotter as it intensifies, your hand gripping his hair ever so slightly as he kisses you back just as hard before finally you force yourself to break away.

You shudder a breath as you part, catching your breath, but neither of you drop your hands.

Bucky's thumb gently strokes your cheek as you gaze into one another's eyes. So much unspoken, and yet so much being shared with the look alone.

The ringing of the tablet breaks you two up, though, as a FaceTime call pops up.

The contact is Natasha and seeing her name has you grabbing for the tablet and accepting the call right away.

"Hey," she greets as the sound of a movie playing in the background mingling with the giggles of children and fake cries for help from Steve can be heard just beyond her smoky voice.

"Hey, what's up? Did something happen?" you ask, hoping you don't sound as uncharacteristically panicked as you feel.

"That's what I was gonna ask you two. There a reason your daughter keeps twirling around shouting 'fucking dick' into the air every ten minutes?" She asks.

Your brows raise in surprise as your mouth parts open on nothing.

Bucky titters at the thought of that precious angel twirling around with a mouth like a sailor - a mouth like her mother. He smirks, answering for you.

"Yeah, that'd be thanks to her mother over here."

"Why am I not surprised," Nat responds.

"Sorry, she was mimicking me this morning and we didn't tell her to stop," you grimace. "Hey, can you put them on really quickly?"

"Yeah, that's actually the real reason I called. They wanted to say goodnight before they go to bed," she says as she walks into the living room.

"Linc, El, got some folks who wanna talk to you over here."

Your eyes light up as their perfect little faces fill the screen as Nat holds her phone for them.

When they register it's you and Bucky on screen, they smile brightly, calling out to you both.

"Hi, munchkins," you smile at the screen, Bucky right beside you.

"You guys getting ready for bed?" he asks.

"We're ready, Daddy! Just have to say goodnight to you and Mommy."

"Yeah we have to say goodnight so - and then we can sleep,"

You chuckle as Lincoln rubs his tired eyes.

"But I miss you Mommy," he pouts at the screen.

"'S okay, Linc," Ellie says as she takes her brother's hand, comforting him easily. You swear you're on the verge of tears as you smile at the sweetness.

"Sweetheart, I miss you, too. We miss both of you very much. But you guys are gonna have so much fun tomorrow! And we'll see you so soon, I promise. You two be good and listen to your Aunt and Uncle, okay? Oh, and Ellie,” her eyes widen as you say her name, looking attentively at your face on screen, “let's keep 'fucking dick' just an at home thing, alright?"

She giggles at your words but nods, "Okay, Mommy."

"Alright, goodnight you two," you say softly, not sure you’re ready to call it a night with them knowing what tomorrow is promised to bring.

"Goodnight, Mommy. I love you," they respond in unison.

"I love you more."

"Daddy's turn!" Linc calls for his father.

"Goodnight, Daddy," he says when Bucky leans further into the frame before you hand him the tablet to hold completely.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Ellie smiles.

"I love you," they say, again in unison. The sound is the cutest thing you've ever heard.

"Goodnight, guys. I love you more," he finishes with a soft, almost sad smile of his own before they run off the couch and chase Steve out of the room with the other kids. Nat offers you both a goodnight and a happy anniversary, parting with a wink before she hangs up.

"Those are ours," you say after a moment, astonishment lacing your tone.

"Yeah," Bucky chuckles. "We made those little punks."

"Ya know, I don't think we did too bad considering it's our first day."

"No, we were great. Naturals. They had absolutely no clue we'd never known them before today."

You laugh at that before the silence grows between you again. It's not something unusual for you guys, but the hot tension mounting in this moment in particular certainly is.

Bucky is still kneeling beside you, his large hand settled on your thick, plush thigh.

You scoot back, your weight pushing the chair. The movement allows his hand to smooth over your skin, sending sparks through you and raising goosebumps under his touch.

You try to pretend that it didn't send sparks alight in your belly as you move back further and stand, Bucky turning his gaze to follow your movements.

The sight of him on his knees before you, looking up at you with those devout blue eyes, it has your stomach fluttering as you take a deep breath.

He stands after a second, towering over you once again, somehow even closer now as you look up at him.

"What now?" you whisper.

"That's up to you, doll," he responds, voice lower than you've heard it before, his warmth radiating off of him and into you.

You see his hand twitch by his side, like he's holding himself back from reaching out and touching you again.

"Well," you swallow, "they said it's our anniversary, right?"

"Mhm,"

You raise your brows, shrugging the tiniest bit as you nervously lick your lips.

"You wanna celebrate?" you ask, your voice a little tight and heady as you flick your gaze back up to the darkening oceans of his eyes.

His lips crash into yours without another word, his speed catching you off guard as you gasp into his mouth. Bucky lifts you up like you weigh absolutely nothing and your legs circle around him as he holds you up, his lips never ceasing as he walks you out of the kitchen.

You only part to catch your breath, your forehead against his as he strides into the bedroom, your heavy breaths intermingling. Your hands are in his hair as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

He sets you down on the bed before backing away, granting you space you didn't ask for. You look at him, clearly not happy with the distance he'd put between you. Before you can say anything, Bucky speaks first.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks intensely.

You look at him for a moment, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, Bucky, I've wanted you from the moment I met you. I wanna do this," you answer him. "I'm sure. Are you?"

Bucky pulls off his shirt as you breathe a sigh of relief, a soft titter escaping you as you watch him. He steps closer to you, taking your face in his hold, kissing you deeply. “I’m more than sure,” he speaks against your lips before pushing you back on the bed. The move has a scene playing in his mind and has him hesitating from going further as shame creeps up on him.

“I-,” he squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks through what he’s about to admit to, “I need to tell you something first.”

“What?” you ask, worry clear in your voice.

“I, well.. Hold on,” he says before getting up and leaving you sitting on the bed confused and concerned.

Bucky returns with the tablet in hand as you eye him.

He looks like a kid about to confess his wrongdoings, eyes down on the tablet as he approaches you slowly.

“I, uh. I came across this, and.. Uhm,” he clears his throat, “I,” he takes a heavy breath, “I.. watched.. it.” he says stuntedly. “Well, not all of it, but more than I should have..”

You’re confused as he hands the tablet over to you, but take it with a quirked brow.

An image of Bucky shirtless is on the screen and you trepidatiously hit the play button, wondering what the video could possibly be.

Your eyes go wide as you see yourself on the bed in lingerie, Bucky sporting nothing more than a pair of tight boxers. You look up at Bucky still standing before you as a blush grows on his cheeks. You watch, still wide eyed as it goes on. You’re on your back, Bucky leaning over you, and god help you, there’s a tingling in your core growing as you look on.

“No way,” you say in disbelief as it suddenly connects in your mind, eyes flicking back and forth between him and to the screen. “Is this-? Did we-? And you watched it?” you ask, scandalized as your gaze shoots back up to him.

He rubs the back of his neck self consciously, avoiding your gaze. “I know,” he says sheepishly - you’ve never seen him like this and it’s honestly a little entertaining, a bit endearing. “I’m-” your moan coming from the speaker cuts him off and grabs your attention as you look back down at the screen, mouth going dry as your core is anything but.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you watch Bucky on his knees, between your legs. You almost stop breathing before you look away, catching yourself and pausing the video. “Uhm. Well, that’s- this is.. Unexpected. I mean, obviously we- they- have.. sex, but, a sex tape?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have watched it, especially not as far as I did, and I just-”

“How far did you watch?” you ask, cutting him off.

You watch as he swallows hard before sitting down next to you, taking the tablet and scrolling to about the point he had stopped when he closed the video.

“Twenty five minutes?” you ask with a light laugh, looking at the time stamp, the screen paused on a still of you pulling him down on top of your naked body.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, clearly ashamed of himself. You can’t help but laugh, loving how remorseful he seems.

“‘S’okay,” you say with a light shake of your head, pulling the tablet from his hand and locking the screen, tossing it on the opposite side of the bed. It’s not until you straddle his lap that he looks at you finally, his hands coming up without thought to hold your waist. His eyes twinkle with something akin to wonder. “I get it, can’t blame you,” you admit, your arms draped over his broad shoulders before slipping them behind his neck. “It’s hot,” you speak sultrily, leaning closer to him, allowing your lips to brush his briefly.

His eyes fall to your lips as he breathes headily, pulling you flush to him as he holds you tighter. “You think?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your chest brushing against his bare one with your every breath before you finally let yourself kiss him once again, your noses brushing against one another.

His arms still holding you, Bucky turns you both onto the bed, ending up above you as you continue your soft makeout. His hands wander your body, touching and squeezing your softness lightly as you sigh under him, your hands wandering his body in turn. You feel like a teenager, experiencing something you’d only thought about in the far recesses of your mind for the first time, it’s intimate and exciting and you don’t even care to take this any further, your focus only on feeling each other, on being this close.

The ringing of the tablet, though, breaks through the moment. You glance over as Bucky continues kissing you, his lips on your neck as you try to read the screen - but it’s too far and out of your reach.

“Bucky,” you urge him, causing him to finally break away from you, turning to look at who was calling.

His eyes squint as he sits up, reaching for the tablet and answering the call.

“Steve?” he answers in question.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, Buck. Linc’s having a hard time going to sleep, he wanted to talk to you again, I told him I’d give you a call.”

“Yeah, yeah, put him on,” he responds.

There’s a sniffle before Lincoln’s soft voice comes through the speaker, “Daddy?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on, having trouble sleeping?” he asks, sitting up more attentively as you watch him.

“Miss you,” Lincoln answers solemnly, you can imagine him rubbing at his teary eyes already as you hear him sniffle again, your heart clenching at the image. “I need Wolfie, Daddy. You forgot to bring Wolfie,” you can hear his pout over the line.

“I’m sorry, pal,” Bucky apologizes sincerely, despite neither of you having had any knowledge of “Wolfie” being a necessity. “How ‘bout we bring you Wolfie?” he asks before looking over to you briefly.

“Yeah, can you bring him to me please, Daddy?” he puffs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring him right now, buddy. Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, voice wobbly. “Love you, Daddy,” he adds breathily on a huff, sounding on the very verge of tears.

“I love you, too, buddy. We’ll be right there.”

“He’s on his way, champ,” Steve says as he takes it off speaker, bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, guys,” he offers to you both.

“Don’t worry about it, we were just, uh,... hangin’ out,” he says, scrunching his face at his own stupid response as you give him a ‘what the hell’ look, your hand gesturing of its own accord.

“Oh-kay,” Steve says at the odd response, “What is up with you guys today?”

“Uhhh,”

“Wait, don’t tell me.. Are you guys expecting again?” he asks, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers stupidly on an exhale, your mouth dropping while you gawk at him.

“Really?”

“No,” Bucky answers quickly again, “I mean, maybe. We don’t- we’re not sure. We don’t know,” he tries to remedy his previous baseless answer. “Look, I have to find Wolfie, so I’ll see ya in a minute.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before he ends the call on his end.

“What the fuck was that?” you say on a titter.

His face is in his hands as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, “I don’t know.” His response is muffled by his hands as you crawl over to him, pushing on his back to make him stand up.

“Go get the wolf,” you say as you push on him.

As he stands, you get off the bed, too, throwing his shirt at him before he turns to the door.

“Ya know, you’d think you’d be better at this,” you taunt, earning a glare from him as he heads to the kid’s room down the hall.

“Can you go start the car?” he huffs as you watch him walk away.

You stifle a laugh through your nose, “Mhm,” you answer before heading down the hall yourself, grabbing the keys on your way out.

As you turn to close the front door, you’re surprised as Bucky’s already behind you, the plush white wolf in hand.

“You’re so slow,” he teases, taking the keys from your hand while you blink up at him, a smirk on his face as he passes you while you just watch, your turn to huff.

“Dick,” you accuse as you follow him, his smirk only growing at your insult before he gets to the passenger door, holding it open for you to get in.

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #the-slumberparty writing challenge

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namazunomegami · 5 months

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Mélange

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x gn!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes humans are not above animals. Sometimes they burn to fulfill the same basic needs and not strive for more in the moment. A full belly, safety, procreation. What happens when all three of them need to be satisfied? Tinged with spice. Under the influence of an unknown substance.

CW: aphrodisiac, dubcon, slight somnophilia, feral and animalistic Yuta, he has cannibalistic thoughts, licking, lovebites, scratching, biting, slight pain, handjob, premature ejaculation, fingering, Reader can feel Yuta’s ring during fingering, slight dacryphilia if you squint, implied multiple rounds, porn with feelings, good old unprotected sex + creampie, both Reader and Yuta are ultra possessive in their own toxic way <33

WC: 3.6k

Credits: my dearest @notveryrussian for proofreading this mess and doing a bit of rework on the tenses <33 the cannibalcore pics are from pinterest

Song rec: needles and pins by deftones and gibson girl by ethel cain both give a nice vibe to the fic as we slowly transition from Yuta's POV to Reader's POV

A/N: Can't believe I'm posting my first one shot here 🥹 After so many unsuccessful attempts to wrap up multichaptered fics, at least, this one messy smut got finished. My first ever finished fic 🥹 And the first to get completed in a relatively short time. Yes, a week is a short time for me. And happy holidays to y’all, this is gonna be the last fic in this year so expect only shitposts from me from now on lmao.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

Minors do not interact or else I'm gonna go apeshit, also a seperate warning for heavy dark content as usual. If there's anything mentioned in the tags that you're not comfortable with, this is not your fic.

Many sorcerers envy the title of special grade. Yuta thinks these people deserve a separate Naraka in Hell. They don’t realize the immense responsibility, they can’t fathom the challenges, the danger of the missions. The threat those curses pose. They only care about the power he carries.

During today’s mission, Yuta realized he’s not entirely an unstoppable force. Even someone like him is weak to certain fighting styles, he can’t counter everything with his wide range of copied techniques. This curse’s grade was well deserved. Whenever the katana slashed deep into it’s skin, a strange kind of gas was emitted from the wounds. Though he eventually exorcised the curse, he did breathe in the weird, sweet-smelling substance. The scent was hard to resist, it felt like the perfect mixture of all his favorite smells, inviting and comforting. However, he trusted his body to withstand the temptation, reinforced to near perfection with cursed energy and the usage of reversed cursed technique.

There was no problem until he finished reporting back to the higher ups and was on the way home. Maybe it was just the fatigue, the late summer heat, the humidity of the night but something made him feel weird. Almost sick. A thin veil of sweat glistened on his skin, his cheeks, ears and upper body were flushed. His chest was heaving, a burning, aching sensation tormented him between his legs, throbbing with a synced rhythm to his heartbeat. All his thoughts narrowed down to one single, inherently primal thing. A need. A hunger.

Shame and confusion swelled inside his chest. How can he lose his composure? How can he want it so badly? If he wasn’t so wired for monogamy, he would have fucked anyone who moved. And with every passing minute the feeling was getting worse. Descending slowly to the brink of madness. Hell, he was close to wheezing and growling like a rabid dog. He already had no patience to find the right key to the door. He could break that shit, he definitely could. He had no idea why, but he could stop himself from doing that. Maybe the insane price to get it fixed.

But the comfort of his home isn’t helping him. He can’t calm down, he can’t unwind. On the contrary, everything intensifies the strange urge in him to act territorial. But it’s only natural when he grew up feeling like he didn’t have anything he could call his own, whether it’s a material possession or a person. Every comprehensible thought vanished from his head. Leaving only the instincts. The need to claim. He immediately goes to the bedroom, not even bothering to have a quick shower or a light meal.

He gazes at your sleeping form, unknowing and peaceful. Innocent and vulnerable like a newborn lamb and he’s… he wouldn’t compare himself to a wolf, he’s a more vicious predator than that, all starved and keen on capturing its prey. Your limbs are thrown in every direction on the mattress, a thin, silk blanket barely concealing your body, but you’re hugging a some of it to your chest. Like you’re missing him, finding solace in the way the material is touching you. The windows are wide open, hoping that the night air can cool you down.

Yuta caught himself almost drooling at the sight. He can’t stop himself, he can’t fight the shameless thoughts plaguing him. The need, the want is stronger than what he deems right in the moment. His steps are quiet, that part of the floor that normally creaks is now completely silent. He looms over you, like a sinful, ungodly spirit, your very own kanashibari that’s bound to you. His weight is pressing down on the mattress ever so slightly, caging your form between his arms. He breathes in the smell of your freshly showered skin. A mixture of heady vanilla, milk and honey. He mindlessly licks a stripe up your thigh, wanting to taste you, to bite you, to tear out a big chunk of your flesh with his teeth to satisfy this torturous hunger he feels for you. More than anything he wants to devour you. Completely. Have you all for himself. The thought alone makes his dick so hard it’s outright painful.

He ascends towards your hips, leaving soft yet wet kisses that make you twitch in your sleep. Yuta swears that he’s more sensitive to all stimuli, his senses are working at their maximum capacity. He’s able to feel every morsel, every particle of you. The soft peach fuzz, the bumps, the ridges of your stretch marks, their pearl-like glistening texture flowing on the surface of your skin like a river. The material of your shorts, loose and thin, he can feel the seams on the band of your underwear through the fabric. Where the bones bend, where flesh folds. Your smell. Not just from the shower gel and the laundry detergent but your natural scent, so strong he believes it’s some kind of weird pheromone that’s driving him wild. To the point he almost considers nudging his nose between your legs, just like dogs do when they smell blood there.

Maybe it’s not entirely wrong to claim you this way. He can spare you from this more primal side of him, you won’t get to see it and despise him for it. It’s enough if he deals with the shame alone, self-deprecation is his ultimate talent afterall. But that can wait until after he finished soothing this excruciating itch. Because now the last remnant of his resolve goes out the window.

He pulls up your shirt all the way up to your chest. His shirt to be exact. It makes his heart flutter, a piece of him enveloping you, makes the boundaries between your sense of selves blend and blur. The thought of you using his stuff as your own feels so right, so promising.

He practically glues his face to the expanse of your stomach. The flesh is so soft between his teeth, feels so good to bite on it, so easy to suck on it until the skin turns a deep purple.

And maybe… maybe he can lower his crotch onto your knees. Just a little. Just for a little friction…

You stir, opening your eyes slowly, tiredness and confusion are still heavy on your expression. And then you feel teeth nipping at your stomach, fingers digging into the dips of your hips firmly, some wetness here and there along your leg.

Your first response is fear.

You start to squirm and fuss, kicking your legs up in the air, not even thinking about who’s doing this to you until Yuta grips your shoulders and pushes you back into the sheets, keeping you still by the weight of his own body, shushing you. You can feel his nails penetrating the skin, branding the crescent Moon itself into your flesh.

“It’s me, don’t panic.”

You’d recognize this voice anywhere, but you blinked a few times just to clear your vision. The striking white of his coat is easy to spot, even in the dimly lit darkness of the room.

“Yuta…?”

Your voice is an ode, a blessing. Even when it’s hoarse and faint after waking up. He bends down and kisses your temple, nuzzling into your hairline, breathing in your scent. His body feels oddly warm, almost overly so, radiating through you. Through your spine, to the very center of your being and that’s when you notice that you’re a little bit… hot and bothered. What has he done to you while you were asleep?

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers an apology. But his voice is just… it’s like his mind is not entirely here. Something is hurting him and he’s trying to conceal it. Barely. You can hear his voice is hitched from the deep breath he takes, in a futile affort to calm himself. “Have you been sleeping for long?”

He asks you for the sake of it, there’s no genuine interest behind it. Even if you were sleeping for hours, it wouldn’t stop him. He couldn’t stop. He genuinely feels like he’ll die if he can’t get it out of his system. He snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, listening to the rhythm of life coursing through your veins. The thought of puncturing your jugular with his teeth is so irresistible. He must do it… It’ll drive him insane if he won’t.

“N-not really.” your answer is weak, all your strength is used to move your arm freely, trying to locate your phone on the bedside table. The light coming from the screen almost blinds you as you’re checking the time. “I went to bed about… half an hour ago.”

He dips his fingers right into the hollow dips between your ribs, he kneads the skin in a way that has his nails slightly scratching you. And then you realize that you’re almost entirely topless.

He traps your earlobe with his teeth, sucking on the soft tissue.

“Y-Yuta…” your voice is more reprimanding that you want it to be. But your patience is starting to run thin. You want to know what the fuck is wrong with him, he never did anything like this before. Even if he’s horny as hell he would ask for your permission because that’s the way he is.

Instead of giving you an answer he bites your neck. Hard. It hurts, it makes you yelp. Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark. And he growls, just like a wild animal.

You squirm, you jolt, trying to get away from the source of your pain with a prolonged hiss. Only one hand of his is enough to stop you from fussing while the other fondles your chest. Your nipple is caught between his fingers, he twists it slightly. You can’t see it getting red, hard and swollen. His moves are awkward and tactless, but somehow they help with soothing the sharp pain in your neck. Your tensed body eases up a little.

He kicks the inner side of your knee with his own, creating a little space in between them, then forces your legs apart with one smooth movement. As he tries to settle right under your core, you feel him brushing the apex of your thigh.

He’s so painfully hard.

You’re sure he can read the instinctual reactions of your body. The rush of adrenaline, your pulse, how your heart is almost breaking your ribs with every beat. You’re getting more and more aware of your surroundings because you have no idea what will happen to you. He pins your wrists down on the bed. He doesn’t want you to escape.

What has gotten into him? Where’s your shy and gentle man, your sweet little angel? The one who needs so much guidance, who gets so awkward about his lack of experience compared to you. The one you need to encourage to talk about what he likes since you won’t judge him for it. Well, angels shouldn’t be benevolent and sweet, right? They’re the soldiers of god after all. And the depth of his psyche is still very much a mystery to you…

“I don’t want to hurt you… I just need you.”

He has no control over his own thoughts, everything on his mind gets blabbered out. Not just that he needs you, but that he wants to fuck you (he rarely uses that word so you’re even more baffled), that he wants to eat you up, bite for bite, digest you so nobody else can have you.

It sounds devoted yet utterly terrifying.

“You’re-“

He’s scary. Well, you knew this prior to crawling into his life. What people thought about him, one rumor more unhinged than the other and you have no idea how much truth there was to them. Everyone has some sort of admiration, respect for him or repulsion of him. You just tend to forget sometimes, how malicious his cursed energy feels, how his eyes never reflect the light, looking outright dead. But it’s all so contradictory to his personality… you know that you’re dear to him, he’s willing to risk everything for his friends, he’s so starved for connection, to carve himself a place within people’s hearts. You blamed the whole phenomenon on Rika. And you took pride in yourself, for taming a monster.

“I feel so…” he suspires, trying his best to contain himself. “… weird.”

And he’s a kind monster indeed, even now, controlling his impulses as he humps your thigh like a feral dog.

“I don’t know if I’m able to hold back, so I need to know….”

His voice is desperate, almost a plea. He’s afraid of himself too. With the last bit of his sanity, he wants to make sure that it’s alright for you, whatever he has in store for you.

You don’t protest.

His lips crash into yours in a violent, hungry kiss. Your teeth clang together, he shoves his entire tongue in your mouth. He grabs the hem of your shorts, peeling off anything that covers you below the waist. You hear the fabric tear. It’s the same with his own clothes too, in a few blinks of your eyes he’s already stark naked.

He takes your hand, pulls it towards him, you can feel him in your palm. So hot, hard and swollen to the touch. He closes your fingers around him and his hips start moving back and forth, fucking himself into your grip. You smear the precum along his length with your fingertips, squeezing lightly when you feel the base. It has him moaning, breathily, more vocal than he usually is. He’s so sensitive, his pace quickens and his voice is thinner, almost like a whimper.

And he groans. Unexpectedly. It bursts deep from his throat. You feel his cum pooling in your palm. Though you may be surprised, you don’t make a big deal about it. You search for tissues on the bedside table to clean your hand like nothing happened.

“Feelin’ okay?”

Your voice is calming, tender, it warms his heart but the mere sight of his cum on your hand makes the blood rush to his dick again.

You sit up to caress his face. You open your mouth to question him, but he won’t let you start your aftercare routine.

“It’s… not enough.”

He grabs your thigh, hooking your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to your naked core. Your back falls onto the mattress again.

“I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a promise, you’re sure of it.

His fingertips sink into your folds, relief ripples through him when he finds them already wet. He goes all out on you, his thumb circles your clit and two fingers dip in at your entrance, waiting to loosen you up so they can be pushed inside. His nails gently caress your inner thigh, it’s a tickling sensation, goosebumps dot your skin, a sigh dies on your lips. Treating it as a sign, his fingers start stretching your walls. They curl and curl inside you to the point of the cold band of his ring touching your folds, your essence soiling the stainless metal. The symbol of the haunting spirit of his first love. Childish love that it is, unserious, all just a game. The promises… the word forever holds no weight. Or maybe it does but they have no idea how hard it is to maintain those vows.

Can you ever compare to Rika in his eyes? Have the same effect over him? You don’t dare to talk about it just yet. No, the nature of your relationship is not the same. Childhood love is not like adult love, you just want some reassurance. You want to feel important.

And your reassurance is soaking that wretched finger with your juices. Make that wretched ring yours. He spreads his fingers inside you, scissoring you apart, eagerly working to prepare you. You’re holding onto the sheets and the pillows desperately, your body feels so volatile you might as well float away.

When he pulls out you feel hollow, incomplete. But he won’t keep you waiting long. The head of his cock feels like salvation. Scorching hot and wet with the mixed arousal. And he completes you with one smooth thrust. You’re whole, fulfilled, a merged existence worth suffering over. He’s throbbing deep within your walls, pulsating through your nerves. You can’t tell if the noise coming out of him is a moan, a whine, or a growl, you only know that it’s bordering on bestial. Filled with need, an ache, coupled with something beyond your comprehension.

He drills into you, there’s so much strength and resilience in him, it almost makes you scared. But something else also swells inside your chest. An unknown kind of excitement, a thrill, it makes you feverish, wired. The dissonance between his absolutely feral state and the fact that he’d never hurt you. Or maybe he would, in a way that you’d like it. Nobody could bite through your throat with such force that your windpipe breaks, only him, him and no one else.

He holds you at the back of your pelvic bone, lifts you up in an utterly perfect angle. You mewl him that it feels so good, so perfect, so raw. You love this feeling so much. You get completely lost and immersed in it.

“…it?”

His voice is faint yet his broken self-worth shines through it. Poor soul… You didn’t pay attention to his most important desire. He’s a parasite living off of your kind words, but nothing can make him as blissful as knowing you love him, despite everything he despises about himself. And you’ll feed him. Prove it to him that he matters more than the things he does to you.

“Oh Yuta, my sweet…” the rest of the sentence gets stuck in your throat as you open your arms and he crashes into your embrace like a lost, lonely puppy. You hug him tightly, brushing through his locks with a free hand. The sweat makes the strands stick together. “Of course I love you, don’t be silly.”

He might as well have been a puppy in his previous life. And now your words eased his guilt about his temporary condition. He gained your forgiveness.

What he does next is much more instinctual. He folds you in half, where your knees bend, is pressed right against his traps, your heels graze the middle of his back. Now his thrusts have weight, uncovering spots that even you had no idea that existed inside of you. Tears of joy prickle in your eyes, calling upon whatever deity’s name you can think of, off the top of your head. You can swear his pace increases at the sight. It’s so intense a broken cry erupts from your throat.

He thrusts right into a sweet spot, which has you melting and trembling. Please is the only word your lips can form. At this point, you couldn’t care less about the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together or the squelching noises that make the whole act sloppy, shameless and primal, you only want to reach your peak, and you’re not far from it as you’re clenching around him with a rhythm that you have no control over.

It crashes, it ruptures, sudden, sharp and hot like an electric spark. A scream empties your lungs, but Yuta muffles it with sealing his mouth onto yours. You feel yourself getting filled as you’re convulsing around his length.

After he fucks you through your orgasm you feel yourself shaking, your whole body is limp, numb, drifting slowly to sleep. You’re both soaked in sweat, your bodies stick together but there’s a need to bond further in each other’s embrace. You plant a kiss between his locks, praising him, telling him you love him. Satisfaction clouds your mind, like a soft, pillowy pink mist.

However, his cock is still not soft.

“I have no idea what has gotten into you.” you tell him, marveling, as you’re still catching on your breath. “I like it though, but you owe me an explanation.”

He handles you gently, like you’re some precious thing, made from glass, fragile. Your body is like a ragdoll’s, he has you lying on your stomach, lazily, flatly, you might as well fuse together with the mattress. Calloused fingers are drawing nonfigurative shapes on your shoulder blades.

“I’ll tell you right after we finish.”

Your blood runs cold for a moment.

“Again? Yuta, for the love of god I’m exhausted.” you whine.

He apologetically kisses your spine.

“Just this one, okay? Please? I’ll do all the work, I’ll make it quick. You only need to relax, you can sleep even.”

You want to tell him that sounds a little bit creepy, but you don’t have the strength to talk. He kisses the two shallow dimples right above your tailbone. His gaze lingers on your folds, admiring how red and swollen you are.

“If you manage to make me cum again, you deserve a fucking award.” you comment, face nuzzled into the pillow, your voice is obviously snarky.

You can feel teeth sinking into the flesh of your asscheek. The mark that is burning on your neck found it’s pair. He presses down your overly sensitive clit with his thumb, balancing the pain out with pleasure. But it gets overstimulated so easily, you feel the need to bite the pillow.

You brace yourself with a deep breath through your nose. You’re going to pay him back next time, you promise yourself that you’ll make a begging, crying mess out of him, and the thought makes you chuckle.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #do not perceive me please idk how I came up with the whole cannibalcore pipeline #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk x reader #meesa writes

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART FOUR

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being a dick but also a tiny little bit of fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry but I can't manually tag anyone on the post, the app won't just let me do it!

ALSO, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE TO GO FROM HERE, SO IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS OR SUGGESTIONS LET ME KNOW! 💖

1.3k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

"What the fuck are you doing here, Pedro?!" You asked shocked, noticing your voice came out squeaky at the nervousness of the situation. In all the time you've known each other not once he came to your place unannounced and let alone broke into. You honestly had no idea what was that shit about but you didn't like it a bit. It felt so invasive, so creepy, that's definitely something you never expected from Pedro.

The man, on the other hand just scoffed and shook his head, looking at you with angry eyes

"I was just waiting for you, as you don't bother answering my calls nor my texts, I figured I could come and see if you were still alive, which I can see you are, alive and well, by the way, especially after the little date with your new friend. His name is Liev, right? Did you bat your eyes at him and giggled at every single thing he said just like you used to with me?" He got up and walked towards you, staring hardly into your eyes.

"So, you couldn't simply give me a heads-up you weren't coming to my house the other day? You're just too busy to even remember I exist, Y/N? But not to Liev, right? For him you have all the time in the world, what a fucking great friend you are, Y/N!" He said angrily.

You couldn't believe your ears, he had the nerve to come to your place and accuse you of being a bad friend? You clenched your jaw and you could swear if you had the guts you could punch Pedro right there.

You also took a step closer, showing you were not at all intimidated by his scene.

"A bad friend? Are you really calling me a bad friend? You gotta be kidding me, honestly, I can't believe your nerve to say that, if anything you're the bad friend here, you treat me as nothing but a cute pet, someone you like to have around and stroke your ego, but whenever you find something better, you forget I exist"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Is this about the party again? Honestly Y/N what were you expecting? That I would stop my life for you? Just because you have a crush on me?! Please, grow up! You're not a little girl anymore, maybe it's time for you to find a man so you won't bother me anymore?" Pedro raised his voice but immediately regretted what he'd said. He saw how your eyes filled with tears, the disappointment was written all over your face. You swallowed and shook your head "I'm not talking about my feelings for you, I am talking about how bad of a friend you are, how cruel of you was to hump another woman in front of me, ditch me so you could go and fuck her, you left me there, as if I didn't matter, as if you barely knew me!!" You shouted angrily and looked down, drying your tears so he wouldn't see them.

"You're telling me to grow up? How about you fucking grow up? It's about time a man your age, get over this stupid commitment issue you got. For god's sake Pedro, you are nearly 50 years old, no wife, no kids, all your relationships won't last more than a year and you really think the problem is me? You are the fucking problem!" You shouted, not caring if his brown eyed that were often so full of joy were now sparkly with tears.

"I-.. Do you really think that of me, Y/N?" He asked in a low voice,

"I do" you said coldly. Pedro, on the other hand, felt so horrible about everything that happened and above all, about himself. He never believed he would be able to handle a relationship but the assumption you didn't have faith in him shattered his heart, you always saw the good in him, you believed him and supported him when things were so hard he felt like giving things up and now, he had ruined everything, just like he did with everything in his life that wasn't his career. He had given up a chance to be happy, to have his own family, and now he had lost you, he was sure.

You walked to the front door and held it open for him "I'd like you to leave now, you were not invited and I don't want your company, Pedro" . You watched him walk away in silence, turning around and giving you one last glance, blinking his tears and exiting your life.

•••

For the next months the only news you got from Pedro were through reels and headlines that insisted on appearing every time you logged in social media. You'd read somewhere he was shooting another movie in some country you didn't pay attention to, so that assured you you wouldn't risk running into him anywhere you used to go together. You hadn't talked since the day at your house, and you weren't sure if you wanted to talk to him at all, of course it was hard and so many times you had to remind yourself there was no one to send funny pictures you knew he would like, or talk about your interests or even hang out. You felt empty, emptier than you ever did after any romantic relationship you'd ever had. Your friendship with Pedro was intense and even if he didn't like you back, it was a love story, at least on your side of the picture.

Sometimes you wanted to check on him, see if he was doing alright, but you didn't have the guts, you both had hurt each other so bad, and after all, he did tell you to find a man so you'd leave him alone. You always thought of that when you typed a 'Hello' on your conversation, before erasing things up.

He was still the internet's sweetheart and each time a new picture or interview came out, he always seemed happy and excited so you wondered if he missed you at all.

You dropped your phone as you walked into the toy store, you'd been invited for your friend's toddler's birthday party. You'd met Kate through Pedro, he was friends with her husband, but the two of you hit off and you spent a lot of time together and now her sweet little princess Flora was turning three and you were looking forward to spending a cozy afternoon surrounded by happy children and your friend.

You picked the prettiest doll you could find at the store and rushed to Kate's house as you were almost running late.

When you knocked on the door Flora ran as fast as her little legs allowed her to almost bumping into her mommy who opened the door, welcoming you with a nervous smile. You could tell she wanted to say something, but Flora hugged your legs and as soon as you lowered yourself she wrapped her arms around your neck and snuggled you tight.

"Y/N!!!!!!" She squealed happily and her eyes immediately fell onto the beautiful and colorful gift you had in hands, she paid attention to nothing else but the big package and she felt pure happiness and excitement as she opened it and saw the gorgeous doll. Flora clung to you again and giggled

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you Y/N!!" She said overly excited and ran off to play with her new favorite toy.

Kate was distracted for a moment at how glad her daughter was and how cute the two of them were, however, her expression darkened and before you could even greet the other guests, she pulled you to the kitchen, where you two were alone.

"Y/N, before you get into the party, I must warn you… Pedro is here"

-----

A/N: Hi guys, I really hope you have enjoyed this chapter, it was a sad one, I gotta admit and I guess you all got the revenge you wanted on Pedro, he got a taste of his own medicine and it was not good at all! I gotta confess I'm beginning to pity him 🤦‍♀️ and as I said before, I still don't have a lot of ideas for chapter five, so if you guys have anything in mind and want to suggest, let me know! 💖

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal angst #male actor #male actors #hot actors

1K notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 5 months

Note

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up.

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake.

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble.

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing.

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved.

Reserved for Bruce, even.

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . .

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s.

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing.

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . .

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is.

Not a great sign, that.

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow.

Missing.

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . .

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being.

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all.

"Hm," Clark says.

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral.

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates.

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . .

Bruce . . . pauses.

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question.

It sounds like something, though.

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?"

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks.

He answers the question.

Bruce's mouth thins.

Hell, Clark thinks.

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months."

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that.

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters."

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly.

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was.

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway.

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door.

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know."

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks.

"Sorry?" they say.

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately."

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm.

Clark gets the brain scan.

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself.

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him.

. . . hell.

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized."

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?"

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks.

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ."

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again.

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . .

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely?

Abandon Jon entirely?

Apparently, yes.

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan."

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same.

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably.

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ."

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed.

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old."

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least.

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain."

"What?" Clark says.

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too."

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain."

"Yes," the stranger says.

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off.

"We need more scans," Bruce says.

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?"

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?"

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder.

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this.

"Fuck," Bruce says.

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not.

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it.

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?"

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head."

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . .

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again.

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something.

It's all he can bring himself to do.

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary.

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now.

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step.

They both look at him.

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway."

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?"

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week.

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now.

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head.

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow.

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way.

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted.

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about.

So many things.

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . .

He couldn't even fight it.

And he doesn't know what it did.

The door opens. Diana walks in.

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks.

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please."

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness.

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute.

Or twenty.

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own.

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . .

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon.

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him.

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time?

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with?

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months.

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag.

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family.

Their family.

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened?

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die?

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body.

There won't be another resurrection.

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt.

The guilt is worse.

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please."

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course."

"Thank you," Clark says.

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all.

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now.

What can he?

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all.

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him.

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower.

Clark exhales, very slowly.

He waits.

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him.

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either.

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way.

Clark wonders what happened to his.

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part.

Especially not now.

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches.

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses.

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door."

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today."

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?"

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there."

Lois keeps staring at him.

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully.

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt."

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says.

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known."

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did."

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've.

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again.

He doesn't deserve it anymore.

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that."

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known."

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again.

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ."

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home."

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no".

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear.

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her.

He doesn't blame her at all.

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . .

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer.

Clark doesn't know how to do this.

He doesn't . . .

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on.

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him.

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy."

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight.

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all.

Lois watches.

Waits.

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps.

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . .

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts.

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere."

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing.

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home."

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . .

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it.

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced.

Clark feels so much.

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time.

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet.

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . .

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon.

Just . . . not yet.

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world?

Of course they take it in stride.

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known.

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for.

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that.

Or a lot.

So, so damn painful.

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . .

Jon.

Obviously.

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now.

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway.

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

#clark kent #lois lane #clois #superfamily #bruce wayne #diana of themyscira #rinfic #anonymous #wip: the parasite

225 notes · View notes

lilmashae · 5 months

Text

"sit down then."

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lee heeseung x female! reader, no smut (this time 😋), suggestive themes / flirtation, swearing.

okay, don't have ANY idea where the request went... but it was along the lines of, "can you write for i-land heeseung x fem!idol reader? he constantly flirts with her, however she finds him offensive — but he won't stop until he gets into her pants (on and off camera)." and the answer is yes! honestly, i only became an engene january of this year, so i hope this is okay 💀

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so. fucking. annoying.

if you had to describe lee heeseung, those are the only three words you'd use. who does he think he is — all sly and vulgar, an arrogant asshole... that's what he is, and unfortunately for him, no sickeningly handsome face could change that.

god, you hated this — if you'd known agreeing to interview a couple of idol trainees would become such a pain in your ass, you would've refused immediately.

"so, heeseung! answer this: i need 'blank' when i sleep." you smiled brightly for the camera, sure to speak an octave higher than you usually might. the last thing you need is anyone suspecting your deep hatred for the man in front of you.

"you," for fuck's sake... "i need y/n when i sleep — her beautiful face puts me at ease, and her voice could lull anyone to sleep... easily." what. the. fuck. "ah... ha ha ha, you really have a sense of humor!" is he purposefully trying to make your job harder? your awkward laughter halts upon seeing that shit-eating-grin dancing along his lips. "what about you?" you..? "ah... i'm not sure. but, i'm supposed to be interviewing you anyways." a synthetic playfulness laces your tongue. you can't wait for this to be over...

it's not like he's any better off camera either, "you know... i have a thing or two that you could use to sleep." he whispered from behind you, into your ear. that made you shudder — couldn't you catch a break, you'd only wanted some water. "do you think if i punched you hard enough, that'd help you sleep? after all, you'd be knocked out." you scoffed, walking away. "dickhead..."

it was like this all the time. "wow, an amazing performance from lee heeseung! as expected of course, how was that, heeseung?" the cameras are rolling — y/n, smile, behave... "it was alright... it would've been better if i got to see you throughout." he smiled at you sweetly. it's getting harder for you to act for the camera. "i can't stand you..." you muttered under your breath, "so, sit down then." heeseung grits through his teeth. so annoying... and suddenly the awkward silence sinks in, shit!

"ah! what a charmer." you beam, eyes turning into crescents as you laugh along with him. deep down, you were praying viewers couldn't see through your shitty acting.

..............................................................................................................................

guidelines and disclaimers | part two? i like this but i wasn't sure how to fall into smut with this...

#lil-ma-shae #poc!reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut

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sugawhaaa · 3 months

Note

how would you feel about writing a Jiung x Fem!Reader fic where her long time boyfriend cheats on her, she goes out to drink with Jiung who's her best friend (and has a crush on her), he finds out about what happened and because they're a little drunk they decide Jiung will help her get revenge and have a little too much fun together ;) it's up to you to decide if reader and bf will stay together and Jiung will be her secret affair OR reader will dump her bf and start a new story with Jiung OR they're scared of what they did and end the friendship or whatever finale you think would suit best the main plot

JIUNG X READER

Strawberry

🍓Warings::smut!mentions of alcohol!mentions of abusive relationships!

🍓Pairing::switch!jiung x switch!fem!reader

🍓Genre:: multiple positions, cream pie, some food involved, blowjob, handjob, praise, hair pulling, degradation, orgasm denial, he calls you a slut like...a few times but not much, squirting

🍓A/N:: I'm so close to 3k and I can't believe it like 🤯 never thought my little writing hobby would take me this far...

"So let me get this straight. He had been cheating on you for a few months and he filmed them uh doing it and thought it'd be a good fucking idea to post it?" Jiung said with his right arm leaning on the counter of the bar. You threw another shot down your throat. It burned so good. You put the glass down on the counter.

"Yeah, pretty much," you look into Jiungs big eyes. He shakes his head.

"I mean seriously," he leans back and turns his chair to you. "After like three years of dating and going out all the time he gave up all of you for someone like her?" He said as he gestured to you.

"Yup, she's so fake and plastic like ew," you say as Jiung takes a sip of his margarita. "I gave him everything he ever wanted. Can we go out this weekend? Well, I had plans but sure babe! Can you do the laundry for me I hurt my back at the gym. Sure babe! Can we fuck I'm stressed? Of course babe!" You impersonated his manly voice in a mocking tone. Jiung laughed.

"You know, I never really trusted that guy," Jiung starts as you take a swig of your wine. You shoot an eyebrow at him. "Of course, I was happy for you! You found a guy who loved you as much as you loved him! It was great but after a while, I started questioning him. He had some red flags pop up and I was a little worried," Jiung explained before taking another sip of his margarita. You nodded. It looked like Jiung had one more thing to say so you let him continue. "He even talked smack about me to my face," he said as he lightly spun his margarita.

"Wait what?" You were taken aback. That didn't seem like something your ex would do to Jiung at all.

"It was after Christmas I think. You gave me a more expensive gift than him and he got pissy about it. He said 'Don't try me punk' or something like that I dunno," Jiung shrugged before taking another gulp of his margarita. His Adam's apple flexing.

"Wow, I didn't know he said that...well, I'm glad I spent my good money on you anyway," you said as you crossed your arms. Jiung finished off his margarita.

"So, I know now might not be the greatest time but remember how anytime you and him did it there were things you were gonna tell me about it but your ex said not to tell anyone?" Jiung said as he put his glass on the table along with his elbow.

"Well...it might not be for everyone's ears. Why don't we head back to your place, it's kinda getting late," you suggested as you stood up.

"Sounds good," he nodded his head and stood up as well. You chugged the last bit of your wine and paid for all your drinks. Splitting the total between Jiung. You leave the bar and walk to Jiungs Place. You were a little tipsy but not enough to make walking around town a scare. There was some idle chit chat and making you flustered when he'd ask about what you were gonna tell him at his house.

You finally got to his house and leaped onto his couch. Jiung took off his jacket and hung it up as you stretched on his couch. The sweet smell of him filling your nose.

"So, shall we continue our conversation," he smiled as he sat on the couch with you. You huffed.

"Well, he was a little bit of a jerk when it came to sex. Whenever wherever he wanted to do it, it would happen. But if I asked to do it he would reply with some bs like 'Can't you just wait?' But he said in such a rude tone," You complained as you laid down on the couch, barely giving Jiung any room to sit. "Not to mention he had no rhythm," you say with a swing of your hand. Jiung chuckled. "The amount of orgasms I had to fake just to get him to piss off is pathetic," you sigh as you play with your hair.

"Wait what? How do you fake an uh orgasm?" He asked with pink cheeks.

"It's pretty easy really, it's kind of a girl thing," you look at him ignoring his flustered state.

"I still don't get it," he shrugged.

"So when a girl cums she gets tighter it goes like woosh," you demonstrate with your hands how it works. Jiung looks like he understands but is also concerned. "But women can intentionally get tighter, we can control it," you demonstrate with your hands again.

"Ohhh," a light bulb ignites in jiungs head. "So you just do that and act like it feels really good right?" He says as he watches your hands, his cheeks pink.

"Yeah pretty much," you shrug. "Do you have any strawberries?" You ask suddenly.

"Uh maybe? Why?" He answered and watched you get up and go to the fridge. You find the package of strawberries and take them out to the living room. You open the package and lean over the arm rest.

"Open~" you say as you hold a strawberry above Jiungs mouth. He hesitates but he opens his mouth. You slip the strawberry into his mouth and he bites down on it. You pull the stem off from his mouth and clean the juice off his lips. He blushes madly. Without thinking clearly you put your lips against his. Jiungs eyes widened. No words could be spoken. You set the package of strawberries down and break the kiss. Jiung swallows the strawberry.

"Y-Y/N?" He said as he watched you closely. Trying to read your confusing body language. "I...we should talk," he says with a quivering voice, his body shifting.

"I find actions speak louder than words," you hold his cheeks with your gentle grip. You kiss him passionately, adding tongue this time. He moans softly into the kiss. He leans back onto the couch and you rest on top of him.

"I've loved you for so long," he said between kisses. You look up at him slightly shocked.

"You were always a hottie," you chuckle before biting his neck. He moaned quietly as his hand went to his mouth. You slid your hands up his shirt and feel up his abs, tracing each one of his muscles. Occasionally you kiss and bite his neck and shoulders, leaving little marks. His long hands soon followed suit. His hands inching up your stomach. The touch of his cold hands makes your stomach fluctuate. His hands went around your back as you continued to lick his neck. You tug at his shirt. "May I?" You look at him through hooded eyes.

"S-Sure," he blushes and lets you pull his shirt off. You lick his chest down to his nipple. You feel his body jerk up into yours and he pulls at your shirt. You wanted to drag this out, tease him, graze over his cock a few times before actually jerking him off. Edging him until he screams out your name but you couldn't wait. It felt like you'd already been waiting years to feel him inside you.

"Jiung..." you say softly as you remove your hands from him, sitting on top of his thighs. He tilts his head to show you he's listening. "I know how sudden this is but...I'm so horny I can't do this," you whine as you curl up on his chest. He pats your head as he listens to you. "I need you inside me..." you whisper and wait for him to reply.

"Are you sure you want that? This early?" He takes your chin to make you look up at him. You nod with doe eyes. "As long as you're okay with it..." he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. "I don't have any condoms on me though..." he says as he looks at the living room table, the strawberry pack still on it.

"No, no condom it's fine," you shake your head and take off your shirt. He looks at you surprised.

"As long as you're sure..." he seems a bit skeptical but whatever you want goes in this situation. The two of you stand up and take off all remaining clothes. When he sees you take off your bra his cheeks flush. He never thought he'd be blessed enough to see this view. Once prepared you lay down on the couch and waited for Jiung. He crawled on top of you and pumped his cock a few times. "Are you sure?" He asks one last time as he looks down at you, biting your lip.

"I'm sure baby, please, put it in," you whined as you grabbed his hand to stop him from prepping anymore than he had to because all he was doing was killing time. He took a deep breath and agreed to do what you pleaded. You bite your lip and watch as he teases his tip against your soaked folds. You buck your hips slightly in anticipation. He finally slowly slides inside you. You jump and grab his shoulders. He was much bigger than your ex...you felt your walls stretch to engulf all of his length.

You moaned loudly and arched your back. "So deep," you whimper draggily.

"Your so much tighter than I thought," Jiung groans as buries himself inside you. He takes a deep breath. "Can I move?" He asks as he looks down at you.

"W-Wait just a bit longer," you say hoarsly. You took a few deep breaths before nodding. "Okay," you look up at him and wait for him to start. One last deep breath between the two of you rings in the air before he slowly pulls out a bit and ruts back into you.

All the built-up tension between you and him throughout the years was finally being let out and you felt like you could see the light right then and there. He slowly continued to thrust up into you. Slow but consistent. Nothing like your ex but...your ex never made you feel like heaven anyways.

You whimper as he hits that gummy spot buried inside you. Your legs jerk up and a shiver runs down your body. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jiung of course and he continues to abuse that spot. He chuckled and threw his head down.

"Fuck you feel so good," he said raspily as he continued to hit your G-spot. Jiung's speed started increasing and you couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist. He leaned down and kissed you. Your lips collide and tongues interlock. You break the kiss to hoarsely speak.

"I think I'm getting close," you whimper out before biting your lip. You feel your walls tighten around his length but it doesn't slow him down one bit. If anything it persuades him to go faster. You throw your head back and let out an aching moan, your nails clawing at his shoulders. Jiung shakes his head, his platinum hair hanging in front of his eyes. He's unable to move his hair due to his hands being glued to your hips.

One final hit to your g-spot and your body lunges forward. Your body shakes lightly as you cum all over him. He quickly pulls out and sprays his load on your stomach. His arms shake as he tries to hold his body up. You tuck back his hair to see his eyes glistening. You chuckle lightly as your chest heaves.

"I have never," he starts before taking a minute to breathe. "I've never felt so good," he chuckles before placing one of his hands to his chest.

"I can make you feel even better," you say as you sit up. He looks confused before you push him to lay on the couch.

"W-What are you-Ah!" He moans as you put your lips around his tip. You can see the shiver run down his body. "Wait, wait, wait, fuck!" He tries to squirm out of your hold but he ends up moaning and throwing his head back. Your hand is around the base of his cock while the rest is in your mouth. His fresh semen tingled on your tongue. Jiung grabs your hair as you roll your tongue around his sensitive tip. He swallowed hard and whimpered quietly.

You twisted your hand up and down from his base to your lips, bobbing your head as well. Due to all the blowjobs your ex wanted you were basically an expert with no gag reflex. "Y/N-ah, please god," he rambled nonsense as you started going faster. The orgasm he just had hasn't fully settled yet which made him extra sensitive and prone to cumming early. Your goal was to make him cum back to back and by the looks of it, it was going good. He tugged your hair one last time before cumming in your mouth.

You slipped your lips off of his tip and watched as he came on his stomach. Just like he did to you. You smirked and swallowed the semen in your mouth. He threw his head back and relaxed. You licked up his stomach and sent shivers down his spine.

"You little-!" Jiung tried to sound angry at you for not giving him any warning for giving the best blow and hand job but in reality, he was seeing stars. You smiled up at him with some of his cum dripping down your lips. His heart skipped a beat and he sighed. "Don't look at me like that, I'm still gonna get back at you," he said as you laid down on the couch, stretching. "Don't act so coy with me!" He grumbled before picking you up swiftly. He rolled you over on your stomach and you decided to comply with whatever he was doing. He lifted your hips into the air as you grabbed onto the armrest for support.

He spread your folds and licked up your pussy. You jumped and covered your mouth, the sudden motion catching you off guard. You then hear the leather couch squeak as he goes on his knees. He then smoothly pushes his dick inside you. You moan loudly and grab onto the armrest. This new position made every inch of your desperate cunt more sensitive. He started to thrust into you relentlessly. You moaned out mercilessly, it was like you couldn't stop yourself. Every time he thrusted back into you your voice cracked.

"You like that you little slut?" He grunted as he continued pounding into you. You nodded your head with a whimper. "Hm? I couldn't hear you, use your words baby," he smirked. 5 seconds ago he was whimpering beneath you but bow he was in charge of you.

"Y-Yes!" You shouted into the empty living room.

"Anytime you think about running back to that dick head remember this hey?" He snickered before pulling your hair back. You whimpered with a little nod. "How deep inside you I am, how I just abuse your little pussy," he groaned before letting go of your hair, drawing his attention to your hips. Grabbing them to move you up and down his length even faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm c-close," you stammer out as you claw at the couch.

"Your not gonna cum until I tell you," he cooes in his velvet voice that makes your legs shake. At this point he's pounding your G-spot so hard it's moving the couch. You don't know how much longer you can handle this denial and degradation. Tears poke at your eyes, your hair a mess in your face but you're too distracted by his cock buried inside you to care.

"Can I cum!? Please!" You whine breathlessly. Jiung stays silent before finally replying.

"Cum now," he says raspily. He continues to thrust rhythmically as you cum which causes you to squirt all over the couch. You moan loudly before biting your lip. This rush tips Jiung over the edge as well, his cum fills you up as your body shakes. He pulls out of you carefully and you lose all strength in your body. You lay down on the couch and Jiung lays on top of you, hugging you. "Did you just?" He asks in a soft voice. You nod your head.

"Sorry about the mess," you flutter your eyes shut and rest your head down.

"No, no, don't worry about it," he says as he pats your head. He kisses your head and plays with your hair. Jiung looks at the strawberries on the table. He reaches for the package and opens it up. He picks out a strawberry. "Open~" he hums as he holds in above your mouth.

#p1harmony #p1harmony smut #p1h jiung #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #choi jiung #p1harmony jiung #jiung #p1harmony fluff #requests #request #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic

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shinestarhwaa · 7 months

Note

16,25,32,69-yunsanhwa please? thxx.!

I got a little too excited with this one HAHA I'm sorry, I hope you enjoy it cuz I rly did xo

WHAT HAPPENS IN LONDON || YUNSANHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Ateez!Yunho/San/Seonghwa x manager!reader

Word Count: 3k

Tags/warnings: Idol!AU, Dom!Yunho, Dom!San, Sub!Seonghwa, Sub!reader, Foursome, Dirty Talk, M x M (only SanHwa), bottom!Seonghwa, top!San, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (m receiving), lots of orgasms, handjob, Seonghwa is a wee bit pervy, voyeurism

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123 @mjyungi

ENJOY!

It had been a fun evening so far, walking around the city with the three boys. They treated you on a meal and you showed them various locations and even took videos of their silly Tiktok ideas.

They were lovely really, very different from the artists you had worked with before. You've had two managing jobs before but they didn't last long because of various reasons, but you got hired by KQ for Ateez and you couldn't be happier.

It paid well and they treated you nicely. They always made you laugh and made sure you were comfortable while you're the one who should take care of them instead. Somewhere in your heart you felt like they truly cared for you and you really felt like you didn't deserve them.

After safely getting them back to their hotel, San invited you and the other two boys into his room for a nightcap. After some begging and pleading you finally agreed and entered his room.

As Seonghwa and Yunho had already sat down on the chairs you stood a little awkwardly beside San's bed, drink in your hand. "Just sit, manager-nim," San pouted, pulling your sweater. You couldn't help but smile at the boy and you nodded, sitting down next to him.

The conversation carried on normally until Yunho decided to ask you more personal questions. "So, you're not involved with anyone, manager-nim?" He asked. You shook your head and laughed a bit sheepish. "No, it has been a while, I'm too busy with you idiots," you answered with a grin.

"Oh, really? Well then I'm sorry," Yunho apologized, "we should make up for that in some way right?"

You locked eyes with Yunho as your mouth went dry. What did he mean by that? "I mean, it is only fair," he carried on, "you're taking good care of us as our manager, Y/N, but who's gonna take care of you?"

The way his name fell off your lips made you feel all tingly, a feeling you tried to ignore and block out, but it was impossible because his deep voice send shivers and all kinds of signals directly down to your core.

"I-I...," you stammered, "I can take perfectly good care of myself, I have my own apartment and I don't have debts-." "I believe that isn't what Yunho meant," Seonghwa chimed in. His stare was a little more intense than you were used to from him, his soft and shiny boba eyes gone.

"You know what we mean," San suddenly hushed by your ear, "who's there to please you? I bet we can do it better than you and your little toys could." "T-toys?" You gasped. "We know what's in that red bag of yours, remember the day you slept in our hotelroom last month?" San asked, reminiscing the night where you lost your keys so you crashed on their couch.

"You looked in my bag?" You asked, nervously. "Well, it was open for everyone to see so, yes, I saw what was in there," San confessed. "But believe me, my cock is bigger than that, I could please you so much better than that thing... I bet all three of us could."

You swallowed thickly and crossed your legs. "I-I don't know San, this all seems quite unprofessional," you muttered. "It's just one night, Y/N, and besides that, no one has to know about it," Yunho said. You hesitated, looking at the gorgeous men in front of you.

It was too good to be true right? Three hot and famous men wanting to have sex with you in a beautiful hotelroom on the other side of the world? But how could you say no if they looked at you like this?

"How... would that work?" You asked carefully, earning a few glances and smirks from the boys. "Well you know how sex works right? You can't be a virgin," San grinned. "No, no I know... I'm not a virgin," you said, blushing, "it's just... how would it work with the four of us...? You'd all be naked in front of each other, is that not a problem for you?"

San smirked and let his hand glide over your thigh. "I'm kinda excited about it, actually," he confessed. "Always have been curious about seeing their cocks hard and leaking...," he went on, "and Seonghwa hyungies hole."

Seonghwa blushed and his eyes went wide as he tried to hide his growing boner with his sweater. "Wh-whatt?" He giggled as he looked away, unable to face him. "You heard me." What did he say?

"I don't care what you guys want, all I know is that right know I'm gonna rip off those stupid tight clothes and I'm gonna ravish your naked body," Yunho grunted. "Hm, we'll share," San said.

San kissed your lips and you immediately melted in his embrace. You had always wondered what his arms felt like, his big strong arms that drove every woman on the planet absolutely insane and they felt great.

San kept kissing you as Yunho got on his knees in front of you, pulling down your skirt and spreading your legs a little, seeing the wet patch on your underwear. "Ooh, did we get you wet, Y/N?" Yunho smirked. You broke off the kiss with San, already missing his soft lips as you nodded and slipped your panties off. Yunho nearly growled at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, running his hands over your soft thighs.

San undid your blouse and bra in a few simple motions, leaving you completely naked. You felt so exposed, looking at the three completely clothed boys and they caught up on it quickly. One by one they started to undress, leaving just their underwear on.

Yunho got between your legs again and licked a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt all the way to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. "O-Oh, Yunie," you panted out, making Yunho grin as he heard the nickname you always gave him roll from your tongue in the form of a moan.

"Yunie, Yunie, Yunie!" You moaned as he fucked you with his tongue and occasionally sucked on your clit. "Stay quiet dear, they'll be able to hear us," San smirked as he kissed your neck and fondled your breasts. You saw Seonghwa in the corner of the room, clearly nervous but palming his crotch as he watched Yunho eat your pussy.

"A-Are you not joining in, Seonghwa?" You asked him, as you were kind of hoping he would come closer and pleasure you. He was a little shy, but he nodded and came closer, sitting on your left side. "If we're gonna do this I want all three of you," you said in a husky tone as you kissed his neck and latched your tongue on his sensitive skin.

His brows furrowed and he swallowed thickly, clearly getting harder from your actions. Your hand reached Yunho's dark hair and pulled it slightly. He looked up at you from between your legs and moaned against your pussy as he kept eating you out.

"So when did you start thinking about fucking me?" You panted out as you grinded your sex on Yunho's tongue. "Hmm, for months now," he moaned against your cunt. You moaned out his name again, a little louder this time.

"You want them all to hear, don't you? You want everyone to hear how good Yunie's making you feel?" San smirked. You couldn't even form a proper sentence because Yunho was currently bringing you to fucking paradise on that skilled tongue. Your moans grew louder as your orgasm washed over you, body trembling in San's embrace.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Seonghwa breathed out as he watched Yunho ride out your orgasm, licking your pussy clean. "Yeah? You want in too, hyung?" San smirked. Seonghwa bit his lip and nodded. He really seemed to be a bit more submissive towards the other boys, wondering what he would be like to you.

"Kiss first then," San stated, pulling Seonghwa closer by his neck and crashing their lips together. Fuck. You were squished between them as they made out, your pussy clenching around nothing as you got needier and needier.

Suddenly you felt two of San's thick fingers in your cunt, pushing in and out of you, making you moan out. Seonghwa reached for your pussy too, rubbing your clit with his middlefinger as San kept fucking you with his fingers. You cried out and clenched around their fingers, the pleasure being so good. ''O-Oh my fucking God,'' you moaned out as Seonghwa picked up the pace. This way you could never last long.

Before you knew it you came again, arousal seeping out of you and coating San's fingers. The boys pulled their hands away and ended the kiss and San held his fingers in front of Seonghwa's mouth, ordering him to lick them off. Seonghwa sucked San's fingers clean while looking at him so intensely as you pulled San's underwear down.

San's dick was rather girthy and thick and it nearly made you drool. Wow, fuck. You got on your knees in front of him and Seonghwa followed your lead. ''I think our hyung is a little needy for cock, don't you think?'' Yunho grinned as he sat on one of the chairs, stroking his erection through his underwear. ''Are you needy for cock, Seonghwa hyung?'' San asked, raising his right eyebrow.

Seonghwa's cheeks and ears were red, so embarrassed but God, it was so cute. ''Can I?'' Seonghwa asked with a small voice. ''Hm... What about Y/N then?'' San asked. Seonghwa thought for a few seconds until Yunho showed up naked and sat next to San. ''She can suck my cock first.''

You swallowed thickly as you saw his big cock sitting between his legs. ''Wow,'' you breathed out, ''where the fuck do you hide this thing?'' Yunho laughed and leaned back a little. ''If you suck it well enough I'll let you ride it.'' You nodded and quickly got to work.

Yunho's muscles tensed when he felt your hot, wet mouth swallow his cock. Your head bobbed up and down as you used your hands on the part you couldn't fit in your mouth. The idol threw back his head and moaned out as he watched your 'innocent' eyes look up at him.

Suddenly you heard groaning beside you as well, making you let go of Yunho's cock with a pop and watch the two men in awe. Seonghwa was sucking San's dick as if it were the sexiest porno in existance, it looked and sounded so incredibly sinful.

The slurping sounds and the moans Seonghwa let out as he gagged on San's cock made your pussy throb. San was moaning and thrusting his hips upwards, fucking his hyung's throat. You gasped as Yunho grabbed your by your hair and forced you back down on his cock. You moaned and gagged around his member as he made you choke on it, fucking your mouth just the way San was doing to Seonghwa.

Yunho and San gave each other a glance, smirking as they were abusing your throat's for their pleasure. ''Fuck, that's so good, such a good girl,'' Yunho moaned as he felt his release coming closer. ''Are you gonna cum Yunie?'' San smirked. ''Fuck yeah, gonna paint her throat all white, ah!'' he moaned out as he came deep in your throat, forcing you to swallow his seeds. You let go of his cock with a pop and you panted out.

Seonghwa was still working on San's cock, drool all over his chin and down the base of San's shaft. ''I'm gonna cum in your mouth now and you're gonna fucking take my load,'' San grunted, ''you're gonna fucking take it, okay baby?'' Seonghwa moaned around his cock before swallowing the big load that San released with a loud moan. Seonghwa panted heavily when he got off his wet cock, tears in his eyes. ''That's a good boy,'' San said as he caressed Seonghwa's hair.

''Fuck, this is the hottest thing I've ever experienced,'' you breathed out as you got on Yunho's lap, hands over his toned chest. You pushed him down to lay flat on the bed as you mounted his cock, letting it sink all the way in. You let out a long moan as you felt him stretch you out.

''I-I want all of you, please, all of you at once,'' you whimpered as you bounced lightly on Yunho's length. ''Oh? You want all of us at once? What a naughty little girl,'' Yunho smirked, ''well you heard her boys.'' ''Hm, you're one to like having all her holes filled don't ya?'' San smirked. ''You're not fucking my ass San, do you understand? You're not fucking my ass'' you said, rolling your eyes, knowing about his ass-obsession. San laughed and nodded as he got behind you. ''I promise I won't fuck your ass, only Hwa's.''

San slid his rigid cock right next to Yunho's, deep into your pussy. ''Oh-Oh my God!'' You cried out. ''What about me?'' a now naked Seonghwa asked with his boba eyes. God, those eyes. ''Kiss me,'' you whimpered, pulling him close by his hip. Seonghwa got closer and passionately kissed you on the mouth, driving you inside with his soft lips.

Yunho and San slowly started moving inside you, making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth. You took his long cock in your hand, pumping it up and down slowly, trying to match Yunho and San's pace. Seonghwa moaned along with you and bucked his hips up.

''I had no idea Seonghwa hyung was this filthy,'' Yunho smirked as he rolled his hips up into you. San and Yunho were moving faster, fucking you harder and it felt so good that you could barely keep on kissing Seonghwa. You kept moaning and moaning, eventually breaking the kiss and resting your head against his shoulder. You kept pumping his cock rapidly, earning the most beautiful moans from the boy.

''O-Oh my, you're driving me insane,'' he moaned out. ''Hmm... I always knew he was filthy, I still live with him,'' San smirked before continuing, ''He's always fucking touching himself, fucking himself, listening to us when we're jerking off, he's a little pervert,'' San smirked. Seonghwa could only nodd, whine and moan at San's words,

''I-I'm sorry, I don't wanna be a pervert,'' he cried out, ''I-I just couldn't help it!'' ''It's okay babyboy, it's okay,'' San cooed, ''I'm gonna take care of you after this.''

San's hips thrusted quickly into you, his balls softly clashing against your ass. ''Fuck, you are so good for us,'' Yunho moaned. ''Y-Yes, so good for you, so good for you, I'll fucking let you ruin me whenever you guys want I promise y-you can use my pussy,'' you moaned out. ''Oh? You want us to use your pussy as a good little fucktoy when we're on the road? Well I cannot say no to that.''

''Yes, please, please, please!'' You begged them as you kept working your hand on Seonghwa's cock. He bucked his hips up in the air and started fucking your fist, cumming all over it with a loud moan before he could even announce it.

''What a filthy boy,'' San said, smirking as he pounded into you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You let go of Seonghwa's cock as you felt forward onto Yunho's chest, moaning out from the friction you got on your clit. ''Oh look at you, you're close aren't you?'' Yunho said, smirking. ''Y-Yes, Yunie, yes! G-Gonna cum so hard,'' you moaned loudly. San and Yunho thrusted a few more times before they send you over the edge, making you scream out in pleasure.

Only seconds later Yunho came as well, spilling inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out of you and so did San, seeing him watch the three of you by himself. San laid Seonghwa down and smirked at the innocent-looking boy. ''Shall I fill you up now, huh?

''Y-Yes, please, please I've been wanting you for so long,'' he cried out. You and Yunho felt quite fucked out so you laid in his arms as you watched San lube up his dick and slide it into Seonghwa's puckering hole.

''I'm gonna fucking make you scream, hyung,'' he panted out as he let the older one adjust to his size. ''Please, have no mercy on me, I can take it.'' ''I know you can, I've seen that dildo underneath your bed,'' San smirked. Seonghwa's eyes grew wide as San moved inside him, starting off with a rough and fast pace.

He already earned so many sinful, slutty moans from him, making you think that Seonghwa went in the wrong entertainment business cause damn he was sexier and hotter than any pornstar you've ever seen.

''Yeah, you like that baby?'' he smirked as he plunged deeper inside him. San grabbed Seonghwa's cock and jerked it off as he kept fucking him, turning him into a moaning mess. ''I-I'm not gonna last long like this!'' Seonghwa moaned out, ''Your cock is too good, too fucking good!''

San smirked and absolutely went nuts inside him, ramming his cock deep inside him and letting out the most animalistic groans. ''Fuck me, fuck me hard, give me your cum, please!'' Seonghwa begged. With a few more jerks of his hips San released inside Seonghwa, moaning out his name.

Seonghwa moaned louder as he felt his orgasm approach, clenching down on San's cock, milking him dry. San's dom facade slowly broke down as his pleasure took over and watched Seonghwa unravel beneath him, spilling all over his hand and abs.

After getting cleaned up you wished the boys good night before getting back to your own hotelroom, rethinking the shenanigans of earlier and you couldn't help but smile. This was definitely not gonna be the last time this was happening.

What happens in London, doesn't stay back in London. It's comin' back home, you thought.

#kpop #ateez #smut #seonghwa #san #yunho #shinestarhwaa's promptlist❤️#shinestarhwaa

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trblsvt · 1 year

Note

Hi, idk if you're taking requests (feel free to ignore me if you aren't) but I was thinking about something today

I'm working on a thesis paper for my degree, and I've really been struggling the past couple days. How do you think the members of svt would help when you are struggling to focus on an assignment?

Who would be keeping you stocked on snacks and making sure you stay hydrated? Who would be helping you find research to support your paper? Would someone suggest you take breaks when struggling? Is there anyone who would just try to stay out of the way to avoid being an additional distraction?

thank you for sending this in, this is actually so cute!

pairing | ot13 x fem!reader genre | fluff; college!au warnings | mentions of just studying a lot (if that's even a warning) summary | short scenarios of seventeen members taking care of their s/o when it's peak studying time min | lowercase intended. i actually think i can come up with ideas for all thirteen members

choi seungcheol

you were just so stubborn. "she couldn't possibly study the whole day away," seungcheol grumbled to himself, but he knew you indeed could. lucky for you, he wasn't going to let you do that. he would make you go out for a bit.

he frowned when he saw you hunched over one of your textbooks. "hey," he mumbled approaching you slowly. he stood behind you, hands on your shoulders, and he peered at your computer screen. some sort of coding language he wouldn't even try to engage with. "want to take a break?" he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"i can't," he practically heard the frown in your voice, not to mention the exhaustion.

"you can," he said, fingers tracing shapes on your arms. "come on, come lie down with me. just for a little bit. i promise you can go back to your work after you come here." you looked at your screen and back to where he stood behind you. you glanced at your screen one last time and got up. "fine, just for a little bit," you grumbled.

"that's my girl," he smiled, pulling you down onto the bed and wrapping you up into his arms. maybe it wasn't going outside or anything like that, but nothing beat having you in his arms. soon enough, you dozed off and your school work had to wait a bit longer.

yoon jeonghan

jeonghan was the distraction you didn't know you needed. "___, come take a look at my new lego set," he called from the living room. you sighed and rubbed your eyes. "i can't, han. i've got to finish this presentation today," you said. he frowned. you were working too hard for the past few hours. he looked at his completed lego set and determined it was small enough for him to pick and up and bring it to you. he shuffled his way to your bedroom where you were working and held out his construction. "look, it's so cute, right?" he smiled. you looked up, and you couldn't help but melt a little. he looked so proud of his little set. "yes, it is very cute, jeonghan. nice job," you smiled.

"well, i have another one i have to build, and i need you to help me," he grinned and grabbed your hand. when you went out into the living room, there were about three other sets ready to be constructed. "now, which one do you want to do?" he asked, squeezing your hand.

"i want to do the flower one," you pointed.

"i was thinking the same thing." maybe a lego break would do you some good.

hong joshua

he would always ask you if you wanted to go out and do something. constantly. every hour. "___, want to go out to the art festival today?" he asked. "they have a bunch of global artists there to show case their art. i'll buy you something you like it."

"josh, i would love to, but these slides aren't get studied by themselves.

"i saw some of the artists on instagram, and they have some really great jewelry. it would look so beautiful on you."

damn him. he knew you were a sucker for handmade jewelry. he came up behind you and draped himself over your shoulders. his cheek brushing yours, and you could feel the cool metal of his earrings against your head. "come on, just for an hour or two," he pleaded. "don't i get to treat my girl once and a while?" you couldn't disagree with that. "then come on, let me treat you. plus, you're already so smart, no need to read these slides again." you sighed, relaxing in his hold.

"there was this gorgeous necklace i saw, would look so good on you," he continued, and he would until he got to clasp that necklace around your neck.

wen junhui

"eat," he said, shoving a bowl of noodles under your face. you stared at him. "i just ate," you shrugged.

"lies. eat."

"you're calling me a liar, wen junhui?"

"yes."

the two of you exchanged stares until you picked up the bowl and ate a bite. he looked satisfied, but he still didn't leave. he actually pulled a chair next to you and crossed his arms, still watching you intently. "what are you doing?" you asked.

"i'm not leaving until you finish eating that entire bowl," he shrugged. you gaped at him. no way. he seriously wasn't going to sit there and watch you eat, was he? jun was like this about food. he always made sure you were eating, no matter what. you couldn't exactly say no when his cooking was so good either. but this, was crazy. "no," you shook your head.

"yes," he nodded. "now tell me about that classmate who has been bugging you."

kwon soonyoung

he was a touchy person. he knew that. you knew that. so when he couldn't be close to you, he got antsy. he got especially antsy when he could easily be with you, but also couldn't because you were preoccupied with something else. today was an instance of that. you were watching some lecture and taking notes. you were clearly busy and preoccupied, but all he wanted was to be close to you. "___," he whined from his place on the couch. "soonyoung," you responded.

"___." he didn't know what to say. he wanted to be close to you. he wanted you in his arms, but that wouldn't be practical with you taking notes. "come here, soonyoung," you called. you knew what was wrong. he was being all clingy again, so you had to indulge him even if you were busy.

he happily popped up off the couch and made his way over to the table. he took his seat next to you. "are you done?" he asked. you shook your head. oh, well then why did you want him over here if you weren't done? "give me your hand," you said, extending your unoccupied hand to him. he did without asking, and he felt better when your fingers clasped against his. "better?" you asked. he nodded. "good, now once i finish, you'll get all the attention you want," you promised.

jeon wonwoo

wonwoo didn't like to disturb you when you were studying. he knew how distracting it could be, so if you were studying he would just come over read a book until you were done. today was different though. he saw how in the past twenty minutes you hadn't even flipped the page. he stared, debating about whether he should ask you about it. your head was in your hands, obviously staring at the page in front of you. "___?" he called out quietly. "are you okay?" he heard you huff, but you didn't say anything. after a couple seconds he saw you shake your head. "aw, baby, come here," he cooed, bookmarking his book.

you sighed and grabbed the text book you were supposed to be reading. "i don't know, i'm reading the words, but nothing's processing and i have to read these pages by thursday," you complained. wonwoo took the book from your hands and let you curl up next to him. "would you like to sleep some? maybe that'll help you later," he suggested.

"i have to read these pages now, wonwoo," you sighed.

"here, i'll read the pages to you then. it'll be like a podcast." you told him the pages, and he pulled up a blanket to cover the both of you. he began reading out loud, and soon enough he noticed you had been lulled into sleep. (you would never admit it to his face, but his voice was just so calming, how could you not fall asleep listening to it?)

lee jihoon

"when's the last time you had water?" he frowned. you looked around your desk. you wanted to say you had something to drink recently, but that would be such a lie. you had no clue the last time you drank anything. time seemingly slipped away. "i don't know, recently. i must've left my glass out there last time i was out," you shrugged. he shook his head. you were just like him in this way. you would always nag him about his hydration and he would blow you off. you would question why he was looking out for you so much and he would do the same. "if that's true, then that means that was about three hours ago," he crossed his arms.

"keeping close tabs on me i see," you said scrolling through the pdf on your computer.

"get up, you're getting water. you need to stretch your legs too."

"are you ordering me around?"

"yes, it's for your own good. you're withering away like a dehydrated plant," he said simply squeezing your shoulder. he was right. the longer he talked about water, the parched feeling in your throat grew. fine. he was right. you needed to get some water.

lee seokmin

"just take a nap! it'll be good for you!" he nagged. you practically hissed at him. "see! this is what i'm saying. don't be so stubborn, come on," he begged.

"seokmin, i can't! i have an exam tomorrow!" you exclaimed. you desperately needed a break, but this exam was life or death for your grade. "come on, you're not going to learn anything new at this point! you'll do great!" he insisted. he was probably right, there wasn't much you could do at this point. you knew what you knew. you hated admitting he was right in these situations. somehow he had learned your study habits better than yourself. "what will you give me if i take a nap?" you shot back suddenly. his eyebrows scrunched up, confused. "give you?" he repeated. "i don't know, a kiss." you pouted. a kiss didn't sound half bad right now. "come on, just sleep a little. have some faith in yourself," he begged.

"get me ice cream and we can talk about this nap thing," you countered.

"anything! i'll do anything for you to rest! just please, rest."

kim mingyu

"this is really boring," mingyu complained.

"i agree," you groaned.

"then let's go do something!"

"mingyu, please, just sit down for a little bit longer." mingyu had this thing if he sat too long watching you do something, that excluded him, he would get antsy. he wanted to do everything with you, but because he had zero knowledge about your studies, it was hard to keep up. you could sense his movement behind you. you needed to find a way to distract him from distracting you, just for another hour or so. "gyu," you called.

"yes," he perked up.

"did you go through those pictures i picked up yesterday?"

"no..."

"how about you go through those, and i promise once you're done i will be done too. just sort through them. they're super cute, it'll totally take up a lot of time." he huffed. he knew what you were doing. you were distracting him. but he did want to see the photos. you insisted the two of you use a disposable camera for your recent vacation, and he agreed. he wanted to see how the aesthetic turned out. "you promise you'll be done?" he asked, getting up.

"yes."

"okay, i'll look through them." when he left, he realized you were right about a couple things. one, the pictures looked gorgeous. two, flipping through the photos took up a lot of his time, and soon enough you were done.

xu minghao

minghao didn't really want to disturb you, so he didn't. he knew you were capable, so he didn't feel the need to nag you so much about breaks or food. of course he would cut an extra serving of fruit for you and leave it at the edge of your desk.

today was no different. you were at your desk typing away and he stopped by and left a plate of fruit on a pile of books. "hao?" you called out before he could leave. he hummed, acknowledging you. "can i ask you a huge favor?" you hesitated. he knew you never asked him for much, so he wondered what this could be about? "could you possibly copy down the vocab for this set of notes?" you asked. when he didn't respond immediately, you got worried. it was a crazy request, why would you drag your amazing boyfriend down with organic chemistry vocabulary? "actually, don't mind me. that's a stupid thing for me to ask. don't worry about it, i'll get to it later," you rushed, waving your hand at him.

"are you saying if i copy down these terms, you'll be done faster and we can watch that movie we've been planning on watching?" he asked, smirking.

"yes, hypothetically."

"hand over the note cards, i've been dying to watch to watch that movie."

boo seungkwan

"you have enough food, right?" he asked, peaking his head through the door.

"yes," you responded.

he nodded and went back out to the living room.

"water? you're hydrated, right?" he asked, not even two minutes later.

"yes," you sighed. "seungkwan, babe, i'm fed and hydrated. i just need to focus on this for one second. i'm okay, i promise." he looked at you and looked at your half empty water glass. "okay, i'll just fill this up real quick! then i can sit in here!"

seungkwan was a bit of a worrier. he always had been. from the first date, he asked you about ten different times if you were cold within the first five minutes. he constantly made sure you were eating enough food and drinking enough water. "you know, i think you should get a snack. i know it hasn't been long since lunch, but all this thinking is burning up all your energy," he said, as he entered the room again with a full glass of water. you learned to accept seungkwan's caring actions, it was the way he said "i love you." and as much as you wanted your alone time to study, you could never say no to him. plus, at this point you think he's your lucky charm.

choi vernon

"this is what i found," vernon said, tossing some books and papers onto your bed. you turned around in your chair and stared at the hardcover books an a couple packets of notes on your bed. "what is this?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

"this is analysis of journalism throughout the 1960s, right?" he asked.

"yes, i don't understand how that's relevant."

"well, these books are written biographies about promient figures of the 60s, these are research papers about media bias from 1900 to 2000, and these-" he rambled, shuffling through the papers.

only then you realized that vernon had taken it upon himself to find you extra material to include in your analysis. you got up from your place at your desk and wrapped your arms around vernon, who was still talking about the material he gathered for you. "woah, okay, hi," he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. you pushed him down on the bed and there you were, together. "what's this for?" he whispered. "did i get the wrong information?"

"no, you got it just right," you murmured. how could someone be as perfect as him?

lee chan

he was so proud of you. you were such a hard worker, but he couldn't physically bring himself to sit in the room and watch you type away on your computer for another minute. plus, he felt a bit awkward too, just sitting there watching your eyes dart across your screen. so usually when you studied, he left the house for a while or just stayed away from wherever you were studying.

if he went out he made sure to pick up some food to celebrate after you finished studying for the night. he remembered the first time he did it. "i got you food, so we can celebrate!" he exclaimed. you stared at him like he was crazy. "i haven't even finished studying yet," you had crossed your arms.

"yeah, i know! but progress is progress! you worked hard. we need to celebrate," he shrugged waving you over. the tradition continued.

he came home with two bags of takeout with all your favorite things. he started to unpack all the food onto the table when you shuffled out of your room. "mmm that smells amazing, thank you so much, chan," you hummed, kissing chan on the cheek.

"anything for my hard worker, let's eat," he smiled.

min | haha this so cute, thank you anon for sending this in :) of course feedback is appreciated! also not proofread at the moment! tagging: @a-wandering-stay

message or send in an ask if you want to be added to my taglist :)

#seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #dino x reader #joshua hong x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #vernon x reader #dokyeom x reader #hoshi x reader

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marymary-diva17 · 5 months

Text

always be one of the people

Neytiri family x reader x tsut'ey + Jake sully and others

All children are a blessing to the great mother as she saw, all children born on pandora as one of her children. So what happens when a child comes from the skies, a child that doesn't look like anyone else around here. Will she been seen as child of eywa and one of the many people on Pandora or will se been see outsider and the demons that will come to destroyer the planet she will call home.

mo'at " ......" moa's was walking through the forest as she was falling some wood spirts, she had left her home today when the came to her soon stealing her attention.

mo'at " where are you leading me great mother where" mo'at ears soon went up when she heard a babies cries, and as a mother herself her mother mood had kicked in and followed the cries. She soon stopped running once the cries die down and she saw Thanator stand a bit away from blue thing. That blue thing was a navi baby mo'at got her blade out and walked towards the creature, she will not leave the child defenseless.

mo'at " huh" the Thanator soon noticed mo'at as the wood spirts soon came, and soon enough the Thanator had taken off. mo'at race to the child to see it had the blood of the sky people.

mo'at " hello little one wow you are special" mo'at was looking at the child who reach out hand that was not like everyone else, she had five finger and hair on her face. mo'at was looking at the baby as she soon smile and laugh. The wood spirts had landed on the baby forehead making eywa see this as sign.

mo'at " come you will be with my family I will take you in as my daughter as raise you as my own" when mo'at had return with the odd looking baby, it had gained the whole clan attention as no one saw a baby like that until her. Due to mo'at being the tshaik she had the last saying after she told everyone the child, had been blessed by eywa there was no going against her.

Many years later

Y/n “ ………” you are laying in your bed fast asleep, in your family mauri pod. Soon enough the sunlight had hit your face, and you soon got up from your bed.

Y/n “ another day to see what the great mother has to offer” you soon got ready for the day and soon left the home, after grabbing some fruit. You had some plans of exploring the forest along with study the sky people aka humans that came many years ago. There was a major obstacle in your way well three obstacles that stopped you.

???? “ where are you going my daughter”

y/n " good morning mother"

mo'at " morning my daughter you have still not answered my question"

y/n" I'm going out exploring motor and to understand the humans a bit more"

mo'at " you know your father, neytiri, and tsu'tey will hate that idea"

y/n " yes I know but I feel like there something calling to me"

mo'at " I know my child I know"

y/n " I know sneaking off is bad but if dad caught me he will not be happy, and if neytiri caught me she would tag along and try to stop me for going anywhere she deems unsafe"

mo'at " what about tsu'tey"

y/n " he sill do anything in his power to make sure I don't go I love him dearly, but there are times when he do overprotective and I know I will not win a fight against him"

mo'at " they all love you dearly child in their own ways but I understand, go now I will come up with some excuse to them have some fun and follow the will of the great mother" you had smiled towards you mom and hugged her before you ran off with a bright smile on your face. You were wondering around the forest having a time of your life. While wondering your had gather some stuff for yourself and your mother as well.

y/n " huh" you were done doing some gather when you saw some wood spirts foaling near you, making you laugh and smile as you reach out your hand to them.

y/n " It seems like I have been blessed by the great mother or she sending me a sign"

???? " maybe a sign that your shouldn't be wondering off alone during times like this" you soon got spooked when you heard a voice you knew so well, you soon turn away to see tsu'tey standing there.

y/n " oh tsu'tey what are you doing out here did you make sure to have breakfast, before you started your day I hate when you miss meals"

tsu'tey " I hate it when you sneak off without telling others where you are going"

y/n " I don't know what you mean I'm no longer a child I can stay out longer when I wish"

tsu'tey " yes you are no longer a child and member of the clan but you are my future mate, and ma y/n I can worry about you" tsu'tey was now standing near you and soon looked at you.

tsu'tey " what the matter ma y/n"

y/n " are you sure you wish to be with me"

tsu'tey " you are my first love and will always have my heart, there is no one else I rather be with ma yawne"

y/n " are you sure what if our children come looking out like me, will you still love me and them"

tsu'tey " I will love them no matter what our children will be wonderful and blessing and I will love them no matter what happens" you soon laugh and kissed tsu'tey check making the warrior smile.

y/n " you are my warrior"

tsu'tey " you are my heart"

y/n " your warriors are waiting for you don't keep them waiting" tsu'tey soon noticed his students waiting for him, tsu'tey soon kissed your forehead.

tsu'tey " I will see you later tonight at dinner and we can talk more"

y/n " yes my love goodbye" tsu'tey and his warriors soon took off leaving you there, as you went back to herb collecting. You soon made your way back home when you soon ran into your father.

eyuthan " there you are my daughter I was wondering where you ran off today"

y/n " hello father"

eyuthan " so tell me my daughter what are you up to"

y/n " trying to see what the great mother has planned for me, but it seems like I have yet to get answers"

eyutahn " you will get answers soon daughter no need to rush" eyuthan smiles at his daughter making you smile back at him, he soon place comforting hands on your shoulder.

eyuthan " you will always be my daughter and one of the people, no matter what anyone else has to say you are the child of eywa"

y/n " thank you father"

neytiri " sister there you are come on you are with me today ... will it be fine if I take her father"

eyuthan " yes you both can go now I will see you all later on" you and your sister soon walked off together, you were hoping that this happens will last forever for you and your loved ones. Not to your knowledge that some of the things you held so dear will soon be ripped away from you, and that life will never be the same ever again for you.

#avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar #tsutey #tsu'tey x reader #tsutey avatar #tsutey x reader #tsu’tey x reader #neytiri x jake #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #neytiri avatar #neytiri x reader #jake x reader #neytiri #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x you #mo'at #mo'at x reader

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its-the-pilot · 8 months

Text

Waves | 3 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | 2 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

The response to this fic so far has been amazing! Thank you so much to everyone! 😘😘😘

Summary: The first day of TOP GUN has some surprises in store for both of you. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

youtube

Chapter Three

The sound of your alarm blaring at 0500 didn't wake you, but it did snap you out of your reverie. You'd spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the idea of skipping work, not wanting to deal with the stares and whispers you were sure you'd get after the display the night before at the Hard Deck. Thoughts of disappearing like Bradley had also crossed your mind, but you pushed them away. Giving up your hard-won position at TOP GUN wasn't an option, and you refused to follow in his footsteps.

You reached for your phone as the first rays of morning sun pierced your window, figuring it was more reasonable to call now than it would have been when you got home last night like you originally wanted to. You selected the contact you had saved, pressed the phone to your ear, and fixed your gaze back on the ceiling, waiting for the voice on the other end to respond. You needed answers, and this was the only way you could think of to get them.

A voice heavy with sleep answered after two rings, his throat clearing before he spoke. "What's wrong, sweetheart? You never call this early." Another voice came from the background, leading to a brief exchange you couldn't quite make out before footsteps could be heard retreating to another room. "Everything okay?"

"You could have warned me, Uncle Ice."

The older man's voice was laced with concern for you, but having just woken up, it took him a second to put the pieces together. "Oh. Bradshaw," he groaned, and you could hear his desk chair creak as he leaned back in it. "Look, hon... it wasn't something I wanted you stressing out over."

You pressed your head into the pillow hard, feeling tears pricking at your eyes again. As upset as you were at him for withholding information, he had only been trying to protect you from spiraling. Iceman understood you well enough to know that you would tackle any challenge head-on, determined never to let anyone down.

He had been a constant in your life since your parents died due to his friendship with Maverick, most often as a voice on the phone or a guest at the occasional Christmas dinner, due to living on opposite coasts. Despite the physical separation, he had been one of few you had been able to count on to watch out for you and more importantly, tell you the truth when you needed to hear it.

There was a long beat of silence. You knew he could hear your sniffles, but mostly you didn't care. He finally spoke again when you didn't reply. "It's been a long time, maybe give him a chance. You know things weren't good between him and Mav when he left. Maybe he's grown up and moved past it."

"It wasn't just Uncle Pete's fault. Bradley didn't have to go. Or he could have taken me with him, I wanted to go with him." You confessed, hearing him sigh into the phone. Suddenly you felt self conscious, never having admitted that to anyone before. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"You can always call, you know that," he promised. He had made that clear to you when you moved out to California with Maverick, often acting as a mediator during rough patches in your relationship. "Just talk to Rooster, okay? You might find out that his side of the story isn't what you thought it was for all these years."

You nodded silently, voice caught in your throat for a minute as you listened to his words. "Okay. Thanks, Uncle Ice," you finally managed, looking toward your alarm clock. 0530. "I have to go, orientation starts at 0700."

"Alright, sweetheart. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Ice said, his voice calming your frayed nerves. "We'll talk later?"

Another nod. "We'll talk later. Bye." Your phone was tossed onto the bed after you hung up, and there was another minute or so of looking at the ceiling before you forced yourself out of bed.

“Time to pull yourself together,” you thought to yourself, taking a look in the mirror as you undressed for your shower. There were dark circles under your eyes from a lack of sleep, and your hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night. With a sigh you finally turned the water on and stepped into the stream of hot water, determined to put last night behind you and move forward like you always did.

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Bradley sat in the back row of the classroom they gathered in for orientation that morning, determined to keep to himself. He ignored the eyes that seemed to bore into him and the hushed whispers of his name that circulated among the other pilots, hoping that it would eventually go away if he didn't give it air.

“So, ever gonna tell us who the girl is, Rooster?” Hangman asked, dropping into the seat beside him, a sly grin on his face. This prompted a few pilots in the row in front of them to turn around, their attention rapt.

He shook his head with a sigh. “None of your business.” It was a straightforward response, and it worked well enough to make a couple of the pilots lose interest, turning back around in their seats. But Hangman wasn't letting it drop.

“C’mon,” he goaded, playfully bumping him in the shoulder. “Ex-girlfriend? Baby momma? I couldn't be lucky enough for it to be a sister. I would definitely have a shot with a sister.”

Bradley's fist clenched, but he managed to hold his tongue. Fortunately, he didn't need to respond as a group of support and training staff filed into the room, lining up against the front wall for introductions. He didn't pay much attention until he saw you walk in, standing behind the TOPGUN Commander. You were dressed in a dark gray blazer and matching pencil skirt with a white blouse, your hair neatly arranged in a bun. He couldn't take his eyes off you.

The fact that you were even on North Island was a surprise in itself, but he never would have guessed that you actually worked for the Navy. It was something that had always given you anxiety when you were younger, fearing that your uncle, like your parents, might never return home.

Hangman snickered when you were introduced as the Aerospace Psychologist they all had to meet with prior to getting in the air. “Doctor Sexy. Today should be interesting,” he whispered, leaning closer to Rooster.

He barely heard him over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, and that was the only thing keeping him from punching the other pilot in the mouth. You were responsible for determining whether or not he would be allowed to continue in the program, and while you didn't think you would leverage your shared history against him like that, he wouldn't blame you if you did.

The remainder of the orientation passed in a blur for Bradley, lost in his own thoughts. When his name was called to pick up his schedule of meetings for the day, he stood and moved toward the exit. His gaze inadvertently drifted over to you, engrossed in conversation with one of the trainers and seemingly oblivious to his presence. When he reached the hallway, he finally looked down at the slip of paper handed to him and sighed. His first appointment of the day was with you, in just five minutes.

“Best to get it over with, I guess,” he mumbled, heading toward your office to wait.

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You arrived at your office just in time for your first appointment and found Bradley sitting on the chair outside, wearing his khaki uniform. His presence caused you to falter only briefly before you took a deep breath and forced a smile. He stood as you approached, looking as though he wanted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you greeted, keeping it professional as you unlocked your door and opened it, allowing him to enter first. Once you were both inside, you closed the door and crossed the room to your desk. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He took a few steps inside and looked around the smallish office, his eyes falling on the plaques and degrees on the wall. He read each one, your accomplishments done without him and his support laid out before him. “You're a PhD, that's amazing,” he said, pride in his voice. “Congratulations.”

You had busied yourself with files and papers on your desk, getting things in order when he spoke, bringing the corner of your mouth up in a small smile. “Thanks,” you replied quietly, finally sitting down and pulling his file out of the stack that had been given to you that morning at the orientation.

Opening it up, you flipped through the pages absently, half watching him as he examined your office, unsure how you felt about him having this much access to your life. Looking back down at the file on your desk, you supposed it was only fair, since you were seeing everything he had been up to for the last fifteen years.

“You still talk to Iceman?” He asked, pointing at a picture of the two of you at your graduation for your PhD four years earlier. There was only one other picture, with your Uncle Pete at the same ceremony. He didn't mention it, but you knew he saw it by the way his body tensed, biceps flexing under his uniform shirt.

“Yeah, we still talk.” You cleared your throat and offered a tight smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “We should get started.”

Bradley turned to face you, giving a nod. “Right, sorry,” he apologized, moving to sit in the chair in front of your desk and watch you flip through his file. “So, how does this work?”

“You've had psych evals before. It's not any different.” You finally closed the file, looking up at him. His hazel eyes were piercing, confidence oozing out of him as he looked at you the same way he used to. “Uhm…” you hesitated, his gaze leaving you a little flustered. “Everything looks good, honestly. You've never had a mishap, FITREPs are excellent, you're a model Officer. Your parents would be proud.”

He nodded, his back straightening a bit with the praise. He didn't need you to say it to know you were proud as well, and he wouldn't expect you to. He could hear it in your voice. “Thanks. I'd like to think they would be, y’know, despite everything.”

Glancing at your clock, you saw that you had a few minutes left with him before the next pilot arrived so you opened his file again and signed the form necessary, then slid it across the desk, wanting to follow Ice’s earlier advice. “Bradley… what happened?”

It caught him off guard, your question one he hadn't expected given how professional you were trying to be. “You know.”

The words were simple, but they were heavy. Yes, you knew some of what had happened between him and Maverick, that he felt he couldn't stay there any more after he had pulled his papers, but why he left you was still a mystery. “I don't though. Uncle Pete pulled your Academy application, sure, but you're here anyway. You achieved your dreams.”

“Four years late,” he said, the talk of Maverick making him tense again. “It was way harder than it would have been if he had just stayed out of my way.”

You felt for him, hearing the frustration in his voice. It took you right back to those weeks and months before he left, the shouting matches between him and Maverick that you would try to break up. From his file you learned that he had enlisted when he left, later attending UVA between deployments to get his degree so he could become an officer, and eventually an aviator.

“I would have come with you, if you had asked,” you said, forcing yourself to maintain your composure. The last thing you wanted was to cry in your office when you had a whole day’s worth of work ahead of you. “You didn't have to leave the way you did.”

He shifted to the very edge of his chair and leaned forward, reaching to cover your hand with his as it rested on your desk. When you didn't pull away and instead met his eyes, he gave you a warm, yet sad smile. “I know you would have. But you deserved more. A better life than being married to an enlisted man who was gone half the year. You had big dreams, Dimples,” he said, squeezing your hand and taking the risk of using his nickname for you despite how you had reacted to it the night before. “I wanted you to have everything in the world. I still do.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the tears that were starting to prick at your eyes. “Bradley…” you breathed, opening your mouth to say more when there was a sharp knock at your door, indicating your next appointment had arrived. Slowly you pulled your hand away and both of you stood, with you rounding the desk and closing the space between you on your way to the door.

He stopped you when you got close and his hand lifted to stroke your cheek, searching your eyes as another knock came, more impatient this time. “Can I see you again?” He asked, making the bold move with confidence since you had yet to pull away from him.

Nodding, you leaned into his touch briefly before turning back to your desk and scribbling down your phone number, passing it to him. “We still have a lot to talk about, B.”

“I know,” he leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth sweetly, tucking your phone number in his pocket before heading to the door with his file. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you said, switching back to professional mode as he passed your next appointment in the doorway. You saw him glance back at you as the door closed and you got started with the next interview.

Iceman had been right, you just needed to give him a chance to tell his side. As you flipped through the next file, you made a mental note to thank him and continued with your day, hoping you would hear from Bradley later.

Chapter Four

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

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spilledbeans116 · 8 months

Text

Just In Case

(Vegeta x Reader)

Vegeta x fem!reader -6,207 Words - SFW - No use of Y/N

Fan of Vegeta x Bulma? Find an alternate version here! (The first parts match up!)

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This fic is based on a headcanon I have involving the prince and his constant need to wear gloves. I'm putting this here as a side note, but the first chapter is a bit violent. I hope you all enjoy it.

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Nappa was smiling, as proud as a warrior-nanny could be given the circumstances. Vegeta had aced his first mission under Frieza’s rule without a single hitch, having wiped out an entire planet on his own in just a couple hours. They had hit three more after that, completing twice the work of an adult saiyan could have mustered up. And what, he was only 6? Never before had such latent power been shown in such a young saiyan; his power already rivaled Nappa’s own. On late night’s when the bar was full and Raditz and Vegeta were in bed, Nappa would sit and brag to the other soldiers of Frieza’s army how talented the kid was.

The bar was dim, the tables around having been emptied as all the patrons gathered around Nappa and listened to his tales. Among them were Ginyu, Burter, and Jeice, all three of whom were rolling their eyes at the display.

“You should have seen the way he shot through that thing! It was almost three times my size, maybe bigger!” Nappa hiccuped, taking a swig from his mug before slamming his fist on the bar’s counter-top. “It was incredible!”

From around the corner, a young saiyan who should have been in bed smirked. His smile quickly faltered however, as someone else spoke up.

“Psh, right,” Ginyu laughed, giving Nappa a shove. “Like a kid could take down one of those on his own. Even Guildo struggles with them!”

“No, Nappa’s being serious, I saw it myself!” Another soldier yelled, slamming his drink down on the bar. “The kid is a beast! A monster!”

Vegeta nodded, crossing his arms and leaning through the doorframe a bit to watch as the older men debated his feats.

At that Ginyu and Burter laughed, “please! He’s an ape!” Ginyu snorted. “You think that monkey could actually do that on his own? He’s weak, just like his old man. Maybe he got lucky, but nothing more than that.”

Vegeta clutched his cape and held it at his sides, his anger overtaking him as he fought not to run in there and sucker punch Ginyu in the face; he had already learned once that it wasn’t a good idea, and wouldn’t make an idiot of himself again. Ginyu didn’t believe he could do that? Didn’t think that Vegeta could fight his own battles or overtake a stronger opponent? Fine. He would prove he could; he would show everyone exactly what he could do. And he wouldn’t stop until they believed him.

—

Months had passed, but for Vegeta, time moved strangely. It felt fleeting and yet too long at the worst of times. Then again, he was still only a child. He had already gotten stronger, not that anyone but Raditz or Nappa noticed and he didn’t give a damn what they thought. Each day and night was the same, he was degraded by the Ginyus to his face and behind his back. His family was gone, his home was gone, and his race was all but eradicated. He was the last remaining saiyan royal and ruled over two; he wasn’t the strongest on the ship nor was he even close to beating Frieza… yet. That day would come, he reassured himself. Until then he was destined to be miserable, to spend everyday fighting to be better only to get no recognition from anyone. That much responsibility and pain weighing down on a child surely wasn’t healthy, especially not when they were forcing themselves to do even more than everyone else.

Vegeta couldn’t keep track anymore of how many planets he had slaughtered. Their cries of mercy fell on deaf ears. At night, he had nightmares about the faces of those that had met their end in his hands. He wondered who they were, what lives they lived. He was doing to them what had happened to his own home. He tossed and turned each night, enough for Raditz to complain to Nappa that it was keeping him awake.

Soon he turned 7, still a child in the eyes of a saiyan. After each fight he felt dirtier and dirtier, and visited the showers once, twice, three times a day. The soldiers on the ship joked that the prince was a germaphobe. He was too royal for their peasant germs. He was killing without purpose, without a fight and the guilt was eating away at him slowly, crumbling his sanity with each life he took. He was 8 when it happened.

Nappa was heading to the bar before he stopped. Something in him, some primal, strange instinct, told him to go to the boys room. He rushed down the halls and to their room, where Raditz was snoring loudly with his arm draped across his face. Vegeta, however, was gone. He couldn’t ask anyone else if they had seen him, as he’d surely be punished for roaming parts of the ship he shouldn’t without Nappa present.

Vegeta had gotten back late from a mission and decided to go take a shower. His body was covered in blood, none of which was his own. He watched as the red water swirled down the shower drain and slowly became pink, scrubbing his body with a bar of soap as he grunted to himself. Arms, chest, legs, feet, tail, and finally his hands. He lathered the soap between them, watching the bubbles form up and over his hands before rinsing them off in the water. To his surprise, the water revealed the blood was still there.

“Damn shit must have stained them,” he huffed, turning off the water and drying himself with a towel. He quickly wrapped it around his waist and made his way to the sinks, grabbing his toothbrush and lining it with toothpaste. Until he saw his hands again. No longer tinted red, they were coated in blood. The fur on the end of his tail began to spike as he stared at it, quickly flipping them around to see if he had any open wounds. He ran the water and shoved his hands under it, scrubbing at the blood to get it off.

“What the hell!” He snapped, watching as nothing changed. He began to scratch at it, trying to peel it off to know avail. He hissed as he turned the water up, the heat becoming blistering hot as he started to claw at his own hands in a desperate attempt to get the blood off of himself.

“Why isn’t it coming off!” He yelled, starting to get louder and louder as he grew more desperate. He felt filthy as his consciousness weighed down on him, his sleep deprived body and nightmarish life finally getting the better of him. “Get it off me!”

Nappa knew he had to be in the showers, as it was the only place the kid ever went to when he wasn’t in the dining halls or his room. With how late it was, the dining halls would have closed ages ago. As he made his way down the corridors of the ship he could hear something. It was quiet at first, but slowly became louder and louder as he got closer to the men's showers. He could hear Vegeta, screaming out in pain. Nappa shot off and slammed through the door to the bathroom, following the sounds of the hysterical screaming until he found the prince by the sinks. Vegeta was sobbing, hands burnt red from the water.

“The hell has gotten into you!” Nappa yelled, ripping him away from the sink. He was going to scold the prince when he saw the claw marks all over his hands. Vegeta tried to shove him away, crying out for Nappa to let go of him but it all sounded like gibberish to the older saiyan.

“What are you doing!” Nappa yelled at him as Vegeta slammed a hand against his face, trying to make his way back to the sink. “You’re hurting yourself, what are you doing!”

“I CAN’T GET IT OFF!” Vegeta screamed between sobs. “MY HANDS! THEY’RE COVERED IN BLOOD I CAN’T GET IT OFF!”

“Vegeta there is no blood!” Nappa yelled, grabbing his wrists and holding him still. “But there’s going to be if you keep tearing at your skin!”

“DON’T TOY WITH ME NAPPA JUST GET IT OFF ME! PLEASE I CAN’T- I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS PLEASE JUST GET IT OFF!”

Nappa grabbed the prince and his clothes, clamping a hand over his mouth as he ran out of the bathroom and back towards his room. Vegeta dug his nails into the flesh of Nappa’s hand, sinking his fang’s into Nappa’s palm as the older saiyan grunted in pain. Vegeta was still trying to scream but Nappa’s hand remained firm, refusing to let anyone see the prince like this. The door to Nappa’s bedroom slammed shut as he locked it and tossed the prince on the bed, who immediately tried to book it back out the door. Before he could grab the doorknob, Nappa was in front of him, blocking his escape in the dark room. Vegeta beat his fists against Nappa’s chest, trying and failing to shove him out of the way. Nappa knelt down, taking Vegeta’s hands in his before sliding a pair of white gloves over them.

“Look! There’s no blood! Now please Vegeta quit it!” He turned the prince’s hands over slowly, showing that nothing had seeped through. “See? You’re fine!”

Vegeta glanced down, a sniveling mess as he turned his hands over on his own and studied the gloves. They were white, pristine, new, and soft. They cooled his burning hands and the silken fabric felt nice against the cuts he had created. “Th-there’s no more b-blood?”

“None, Vegeta. There isn’t any blood. Okay?”

Vegeta nodded as Nappa stood up slowly, making his way to his cabinet and pulling out gauze and ointment. He applied it to his palm first after cleaning it with a towel, Vegeta’s fangs having taken quite the chunk out of his skin. Then he bandaged it, sliding his gauntlets on over after so the prince wouldn’t see the reddish hue that would seep out soon enough. After tossing the towel, he made his way back over to Vegeta, who had calmed down remarkably and yet was still standing in the same spot Nappa had left him. He was staring at his hands, eyes lidded as sleep finally began to overpower him. Nappa grabbed him under his armpits and lifted him over to the bed, setting him down and getting the ointment ready. As he began to pull off Vegeta's gloves, the prince started screaming again, kicking Nappa away and tugging them back down.

“NO!” He cried out. “NO YOU CAN’T TAKE THEM OFF!”

“DAMN IT VEGETA I NEED TO MAKE SURE THOSE SCRATCHES DON’T GET INFECTED!”

“NO! I’M YOUR PRINCE, I DEMAND YOU WILL NOT TAKE THESE OFF! EVER!”

“Vegeta,” Nappa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t keep them on forever you’ll have to-”

“I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!”

“Vegeta I swear to-”

“THAT’S AN ORDER NOW DROP IT!” Nappa didn’t say anything after that, handing the prince his pajamas and turning away. Vegeta changed quickly, grunting when he was done. Nappa frowned at the sight of the prince wearing gloves with his pajamas, but chose not to push it further. They’d deal with it in the morning and go to see the doctor then as well.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your-”

Vegeta was quick to cut him off, voice trembling as he ran his hands together in his lap. “Can I stay here tonight?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he refused to meet Nappa’s eyes. Nappa looked down at the prince, an ache in his chest as he stared at the child that was forced to carry so much; but he was just that, a child. He shouldn’t have had to do any of this, not until he was much, much older. He should have been in the palace right now, spending each day training under his father to be the next king, not turned into a killing machine by a freak that regarded them as nothing.

“Of course, your highness. You can stay here for the night.” Nappa quickly went and changed into his sleep shorts, scooting Vegeta over enough so he could fit along with him on his bed. The prince held his arm tight, body trembling as Nappa laid awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together whatever the hell had just happened. Even after Vegeta had finally dozed off, Nappa remained awake, unsure with what to do with the prince.

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As time went on, Vegeta learned to live with it the best he could. The cuts he had caused on himself that night healed over, leaving small scars to forever remind him of his own shame and guilt. The blood he saw on his hands never truly went away after that but he learned to pretend he couldn’t see it. With time he was able to remove his gloves, but only for short periods before he’d quickly slip them back on. Just long enough to shower, trim his nails, or give the gloves a quick wash.

After everything that happened on Earth, after what he did to Nappa, it was as if he were a kid again. The gloves would not come off. Ever. He had killed the man who gave them to him, who had tried to shield him from himself. For what? A power move? Now the gloves themselves were another reminder of his sins, but he found himself unable to swap them with a new pair. Now he was living in some Earth woman’s home after embarrassing himself in front of Frieza and a low level saiyan piece of scum. He slaughtered the Ginyu force, which was a bit of a two edged sword for him. Kakarot was gone at who knows where and he was stuck here, failing to do anything substantial. He had truly lost all meaning to his life.

The gravity chamber the blue haired woman had helped build was where he spent most of his time. It gave him a break from dealing with everyone, including you. You were the most confusing out of everyone that was on this idiotic planet. He could never get a proper read on you. You were too… upbeat. He didn’t like to dwell on what he thought of you, and unfortunately found himself thinking of you during training at the worst of times.

He had put his hand up to guard his face at the last moment as the battle bot shot at him, successfully blocking it but not without slight damage to his glove. There, on his right hand, was a clean tear.

“Shit!” He yelled. “Damn it damn it damn it!” He blew the robot to bits before it could do anymore damage, throwing on his shirt and making his way back towards Bulma’s house. He felt sick as he glanced down at it, the deep red shade staring back at him through the slit.

He made his way in through the back door, speed walking through the living room and down the hallway to where his bedroom was located. He didn’t have spares, he had never needed a spare. He searched around for anything that could be used as a makeshift glove. He ripped apart shirts and tried to cover it to no avail, too stressed to tie the knots properly with one hand. He shoved the fabric under the glove, only to rip it further. “Shit!”

He didn’t know how to sew, he was a prince for the Gods’ sakes. He felt sick at the idea of what he was going to have to do but quickly realized there was no other option. He was going to have to ask for help.

—-

You were sitting at Bulma’s kitchen table, waiting for your friend to get back from her date with Yamcha so the two of you could go shopping. You were sipping a glass of apple juice, the only thing in her fridge at the moment in terms of drinks. The coffee maker was on the fritz ever since Vegeta tried to beat the shit out of it to get it working. Apparently the glowing blue button wasn’t obvious enough for saiyans. You paused mid sip, wondering if perhaps he was partially colorblind. Your thoughts trailed off as he was suddenly standing in front of you, arms crossed and glaring in your general direction.

“Juice? Seriously? What are you, five?” he frowned, opening the fridge and looking around for something.

“Good morning to you too, your highness,” you grunted, raising the cup to your lips. “I was going to have coffee but for some reason the machine is broken.”

He huffed in annoyance but said nothing else. You could tell he had just finished training as he was a dirty, sweaty mess. The singe marks across his suit only proved your point further. “There’s nothing in here,” he frowned, slamming the fridge door shut.

“Yeah, I heard someone has been staying over and eating everything,” you replied, taking out your phone and scrolling through it. “I have no idea who it could be though.”

Either he didn’t notice your sarcastic tone or he didn’t care. “Tell the other woman to go get more food then,” he snapped. “It’s not my problem.”

“You could go get it yourself.”

“With what money?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re a prince, aren’t you?”

He slammed a hand down flat on the table, leaning beside you to try and meet your eyes. “The hell do you mean by that?”

Without looking at him you opened your text messages, Bulma’s name quickly popping up. “What do you think?” He tried to glance over at your screen to see what you were going to text her before you shifted the phone away; it was like he was a child. “Do you mind?”

“Are you texting her? Tell her to get the vanilla protein powder as well, I won’t eat the chocolate one. It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah yeah sure,” you sighed, instead typing “his royal majesty is awake and grumpy. Please get here soon.” She replied by laughing at your message before sending a picture of her and Yamcha laughing in whatever breakfast restaurant they were in. For now, you were stuck with him.

“She’s with the beta-male, isn’t she?” He frowned. You nodded.

“They’re on a date I think? I don’t know, sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

You were surprised to hear him chuckle at that. “True. However I’d say they’re made for eachother. They’re both annoying and a pain in my ass.”

“I’ll agree with that first part,” you giggled, setting your phone down and glancing over at him. You took another sip of your juice glass while he looked out the window. “Want me to make you a PBJ or something?”

“Sure. While you’re at it can you pour me some juice as well and put it in a sippy cup?” He grunted, turning to face you and making an effort to roll his eyes. You don’t know why you even bothered.

“Just trying to be polite.”

He seemed like he wanted to say something else before he looked down at his hand. He began to fidget with his gloves a bit, the white things worn to death. When Bulma had offered him new ones he refused, rather rudely you might add, so you chose not to mention them. When designing new training outfits with her for him, gloves were always discussed but never elaborated on. “When is the blue-haired woman coming back?”

You shrugged, “not sure.”

He sighed, and for a moment, he sounded relieved. You went to ask him what was up before he started talking.

“You’re a woman,” he grunted, pulling out a chair and sitting beside you. “You sew, right?”

Ever charming, this one. “Fuck you but yes, I sew.”

“I need you to fix my gloves,” he grumbled, continuing to mess with the one on his right hand.

“I can just make you new-”

“No,” he snapped, cutting you off quickly. “I need them repaired.”

“Fine,” you said curtly. “Just leave them by my door and-”

“No, you'll fix them now.”

You crossed your arms, “Vegeta I don’t just carry a sewing kit on me.”

He stared at you blankly before his eyes moved to your purse, which was resting on the back of your chair. “Then what the hell is that for?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and inhaled sharply as you chose to ignore his question. “Why should I help you in the first place? You’re not exactly-”

“Please.” The word was uttered so quietly, so pathetically, you were almost positive you had dreamed it. There was no way on Earth that Vegeta had said ‘please’ to you of all people. You skimmed over his face to find he was looking at the table. After a few moments and your lack of response, his eyes snapped up, his face flushing a bright red. “Stop staring at me like that! I’m not going to repeat myself damn it! It’s embarrassing enough!”

You blinked a few times, trying to hide the shock as you spoke, “come on, I have a kit in my room.” You placed your empty juice glass in the sink, beginning to walk towards the spare room Bulma had designated as your own.

The sound of his boots clicked across the wooden floor as he followed you. He was embarrassed to admit he found himself admiring your outfit. It was rare he ever saw you in anything besides casual or training clothes. Today, however, you seemed to be stepping it up. He felt his ears begin to heat up as he stared at your ass and hips before quickly looking at your hair. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?” You frowned, glancing back at him.

His eyes briefly shot to yours before he glanced away. “You’re… dressed nice.”

You almost tripped when he complimented you, “oh, uh, thanks.” You said, clearing your throat. “Me and Bulma are going out later.”

“Why not wear your training gear? What if something were to happen?”

“Then I fight in this,” you shrugged. “My clothes aren’t what makes me a fighter, Vegeta. Plus with you guys around I’d only get in the way.”

“Sure, but you’re already weak enough as is. Extra protection wouldn’t hurt.”

You didn’t know if he was trying to make sure you were safe or simply making fun of you. “With how burned your suit is from the training bots, I don’t think armor makes much of a difference in the grand scheme of things.”

He simply grunted, watching as you grabbed the handle to your room. You opened the door and made your way to your desk, pulling out a drawer and rummaging around for your sewing kit. Vegeta stood in the walkway, staring at the floor before you pulled the kit out and set it on top of your desk. You tilted your head at him as you sat in your office chair, motioning for him to take a seat on your bed.

“I’ll stand,” he frowned, stepping in apprehensively and making his way over to you. He had never been in your room before; he never had a reason to be in it. It was very… you. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it. It had your scent and although he’d never admit it, he liked it. It made a shiver run down his spine.

“No, you’ll sit,” you countered. “I sew better sitting, and I don’t want you looming over me while I do it.” You flicked on your small lamp and smiled at him softly.

He grumbled under his breath, something about how he doesn’t ‘loom’ over people, before sitting on your bed carefully. He was trying to sit as close to the edge as possible to be somewhat polite. It creaked a bit as he did so, one of your plushies tumbling over and onto the floor. He sneered at it before you picked it up and set it back in its place.

“Alright, let me see it.”

He shoved his hand in your direction and you stared at him as if he were an idiot. “Vegeta you’re really starting to piss me off, give me the glove.”

“You can fix it as it is,” he snapped. “I’m not taking it off.”

You crossed your arms again and leaned back in your chair. “Are you trying to fuck with me? Is this a prank or something?”

“Why the hell would I do that!” He yelled, clenching your quilt in his fists. He heard the snapping of threads and quickly relaxed his hand. Whether from the glove or the blanket he wasn’t sure, but neither seemed like good options to damage. “This is serious! Do you think I’d ask you for help for fun?”

You wheeled your chair closer to him, motioning for him to place his hand in yours. He held it out hesitantly, palm facing the ceiling as you took it carefully in your own. A shiver ran up his spine once as he watched you trace the tear with your finger tips before he quickly looked away.

“I should be able to stitch it up, but I’m worried I’ll poke you with the needle by accident.” Vegeta didn’t say anything after that, face slightly pale and body tense. You squeezed his hand softly, “I need you to tell me what the deal with the gloves is. I won’t judge, and I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Like I’d trust you,” he snapped back as he ripped his hand away. “This was a mistake.”

You shook your head, setting his hand back in his lap as you began to thread the needle. “You don’t have to tell me I guess, but it would make everything easier. Maybe I can go get a spare glove from some-“

He was quick to cut you off, growing more and more agitated the longer he stared at the open slit in the fabric. “I should've just done this myself. God forbid you be good for someth-”

“Vegeta, I am trying to help you!” You yelled, finally having had enough. The prince seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst as you slammed the needle on the desk. “The first thing you do in the morning is belittle me, complain, and act like you own the place! Well you don’t! You treat me like shit, my friends like shit, and I still wanted to help you! Don’t get mad at me for trying to do something you asked me to do! If you want to do it yourself, fine, take my fucking kit and leave.” When you saw the look he was giving you, you immediately felt bad. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth slightly agape. It was the first time you had seen him make an expression that was anything like this.

You went to start apologizing before he ripped the damn thing off and tossed it at you. It thumped against your cheek before landing in your lap. You grabbed it and waved it at his face haphazardly.

“You didn’t have to throw it at me!”

“Just hurry and fix it!” He yelled back, crossing his arms and refusing to meet your eyes. His hand was shoved under his armpit as he tapped his foot rapidly against the wooden floor.

You quickly got to work, the prince growing more and more impatient as you fixed the tear. “Would you hurry up?”

“I’m trying! I want to make sure it’s done properly so I don’t have to redo it!”

He leaned forward slightly to watch you work. It was impressive how quick you were with it, precise as the needle wove in and out of the fabric with ease. He watched as you bit your lip and began to tap your foot just as he had. He watched as your hair slipped down from behind your ear before you quickly pushed it back into place. Your eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim lap light, and his heart began to race. For a moment and a moment only, he finally relaxed. Then you were pulling the seam closed, tying the knot and smirking at your work.

“Here, it’s done now you can-” He snatched it from you in an instant, struggling to put it on. You rolled your eyes, “a thanks would be nice.” He slid it on quickly, finally breathing a sigh of relief as he stared at the now closed seam. He could barely tell there had been a hole at all. He opened and closed his hand slowly to watch the fabric shift and ensure your work was good. Then he fell back on your bed and stared at the ceiling.

You wheeled over to him again, watching as he shut his eyes tight and laid limp against your mattress. “Thank you,” was all he mustered up.

“You’re welcome.” You replied, surprised he had even said anything. Your tone was soft when you spoke again, and he hated how it made him feel. “You can lay here as long as you need to.”

Your phone went off in your pocket and you pulled it out quickly, finding a text from Bulma letting you know that she was home and going to take a quick shower. You stood up to leave before Vegeta sat up quickly, grabbing your wrist.

“Can you stay?” He asked quietly, the glove soft against your wrist. You nodded, and quickly sat back down in your chair. He made his way once again to the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows against his legs as he clasped his hands together. He looked down at them, hunched over as he thought of what to say.

“Ever since I was a kid,” he started, voice so low and deep it sent a shiver up your spine. “I have been a killing machine. It’s what I was made for and it’s all I’ve ever known.”

You got up slowly and he paused before you nodded for him to continue. You shut and locked your door before walking back over to him and sitting in your chair. He nodded in thanks before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I don’t have many memories of my father, and the ones that I do have are… complicated. Nappa raised me, if you could even call it that. Raditz was more of a nuisance than anything. Our goal was to survive, and one day I wanted to become powerful enough to beat Frieza. What a joke” He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back to the floor.

“At first, taking lives was easy for me. I was doing nothing more than what I was assigned; I started to do more, go beyond what was required of me. The only one to praise me was Nappa, and even then it was never to my face. I was ridiculed and mocked, but it only pushed me farther, to do better. It was never what I wanted, but more so what needed to be done.”

He didn’t know why the hell he was telling you this; he had never told anyone this. And yet now it was as if he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t shut his mouth long enough to think about what he was doing. “What was once hundreds went to thousands, then millions. I was eradicating races in the blink of an eye. Soon they weren’t just obstacles to me, but people with faces and lives I had ripped away from them. I had so much blood on my hands; I still have blood on my hands. So much blood that I will never, ever be able to get off.”

He opened and closed his hands once more, the sounds of the fabric shifting in his grip. “I’m not a good man. Hell, I've never claimed to be one. But now Frieza is gone and it feels like everything I’ve done, everything I worked towards for years, was for nothing. The things I see in my sleep, what I feel when I’m awake, what I’ve gone through was for nothing.” He stopped for a moment, voice and tone becoming so quiet and serious you couldn’t believe it was the same person who had spoken to you just minutes ago. “I haven’t been able to look at my hands the same way since I was a child.”

He finally looked up at you, eyes lidded as he smirked. You realized he was on the verge of tears. “Do you know how sad that is? A beast scared of his own damned hands. I’m a damn disgrace to my people.” He laughed after that, wiping his eyes and setting his hands back down. “Look at me, a prince crying in front of a damn lower life form.”

You reached out hesitantly, tapping his hand with your fingers apprehensively. When he didn’t pull away you continued, scooting closer to him and pulling his hand up to lay between you both.

You carefully ran your hand over his, sliding your fingers up and under the glove before pulling away slowly. You looked at him again, waiting for him to react or move away, to tell you to stop. Vegeta shut his eyes tight but didn’t pull away, his face pale as you set his glove carefully in your lap. To your surprise, his skin was soft, with yours perhaps being even rougher than his. Then again, you suppose that made sense if the saiyan never fought without them.

You traced your nails gently over his palm, studying the grooves in his skin and how neatly trimmed his nails were. “Well,” you started slowly, his breathing coming to a pause. “I don’t see any blood now.”

Vegeta opened his eyes slowly, looking at your face carefully as you studied his hand. You were so delicate with him it made his breath hitch in his throat.

“Sure, maybe there was a lot there in the past, but not anymore. You can’t change what happened, but you can acknowledge it and move on, try to do better this time around.”

When Vegeta looked at his own hand, he almost gasped in shock. It was his hand, as normal as any other. He looked back to you as you ran your thumb over top of his, gently moving your hand back and forth from his wrist to his knuckles.

“You haven’t done good things, Vegeta. But I don’t think you’re a bad person. I think you need time and care to heal, and the first step towards that was acknowledging what we talked about today.” You paused, thinking carefully over your next choice of words before smiling softly. “I think there’s good in you. No, I know there is.”

He watched the way your hair tumbled down and around your face, and how gentle your stare seemed to be. You weren’t repulsed or disgusted, but caring and considerate. He felt a blush rise first to the tips of his ears and then his cheeks before he pulled his hand away and slid his glove back on. He stood up after that, walking briskly across the room without turning back. He unlocked the door and opened it, pausing to think for a moment. Then, he made his way down the hall, wondering what the hell had just come over him as his heart raced out of control.

A few days later he came home to find a second pair of gloves folded neatly on his bed along with a note, “just in case <3.” His face flushed as he went to crumple it up, but upon reading it just one more time, he found he couldn’t. He shoved it in the drawer of his bedside table, grumbling under his breath as he left to go train.

#vegeta #vegeta x reader #vegeta x fem!reader #dbz fanfic #dragon ball z fanfic #dbz #dragon ball z

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weebsinstash · 11 months

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Wouldn't it be funny if reader is aware abt the spiderverse being yandere and stuff but still continues to act blissfully unaware and when they found abt the youtwo situation and stuff they used that to their advantage to basically escape the obsessive grasps the yandere spiderverse has. and basically readers all giddy abt it

YouTwo: wow, it sure would be a shame if I started stealing all of this excessive attention you seem to get. I wonder if all your little spider society friends would even be able to tell :)

You: oh my sweet summer child. Oh my little tiny baby still on its mother's milk. Oh my naive ignorant little newborn

You: y'all can fucking HAVE THEM, my guy

You: once I thought I was being nice by offering Miguel some of the extra snacks I was eating while I was delivering a message in-person from another Spiderman and I got close enough that I accidentally saw the holograms he was looking at and this man had been watching another dimension where we were having our wedding

You: Pavitr who has never done anything wrong in his life ever once invited me to a family member's wedding and I was stupid enough to say yes because then I had him and his girlfriend babbling in my ear while I got literal actual personally customized henna, do you have any idea how time consuming and intricate and personal henna is, I felt like I was naked. Beautiful wedding, literally did not have privacy almost that entire day

You: the other week Peter B somehow got the access code from Miguel to have the security clearance to broadcast across the Spider Society and I was in the middle of the cafeteria when literally everyone in the room had their watches light up with his face, "hey I can't find them myself so if anyone sees my other kid let them know how cool they are and how much I love them and how Uncle Pete misses em 🥰" and to this day I can't enter the food court without a literal army of Peter Parkers obnoxiously teasing me, "We LoOOoOooOooVE YoU SwEEtiE"

You: Jess got overwhelmed with the pregnancy hormones once and she asked me how my day was going and I made the mistake of being honest and said I was a little sad and she burst into tears begging me to move into the spare bedroom of her house and asking when I ate last and insisted I join her and her husband for "a family dinner"

You: that Morales kid was feeling kind of depressed so I gave him my perspective on adulthood and how sometimes the only expectations you need to meet are your own dreams for yourself and i told him all these good qualities i saw in him to cheer him up, and now he and Gwen Stacy keep showing up unannounced in my universe to hang out. Do you know how hard it is to avoid someone who can turn invisible. My knees crack when I stand up from sitting down for too long, I can't outrun two parkouring teenagers!

You: the other day i had an earbud fall into the back of my hoodie so I just took it off and shook it out trying to find it and like three different goobers fell out and I pick one of them up and it literally looks like a piece of plastic and I must've accidentally hit something because it said "beep boop boop" in an IRL person's voice and I'm like "hello???" And someone replies "YEAH, LEGO SPIDERMAN HERE"

#yandere spiderverse #but nah ive thought of you letting youtwo take over cause youre like ykw fuck these fuck bitches #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

Text

I'm Gonna Love You Through It

Pairing: JoeQuinnxFemReader

Summary: Request

You have family issues and they've cropped up so you've been hiding in your room from everyone. Joe thinks you're sick so he shows up with chicken soup and to comfort you.

18+

You lay in bed, where you had been all day. Getting up, facing the day, trying to do anything…it all just felt far too exhausting. You hated yourself when you got like this but every time you had to deal with your family it led here, to you in bed unable to function as you tried to claw your way from the dark place they sent you.

You had thought about calling your boyfriend, Joe, but you’d only been dating a few months and you didn’t want to subject him to this side of you. What if it scared him? What if he decided he was better off not being attached to someone who broke down after a simple phone call. He’d just said he loved you. This would change that real quick.

You knew how this went. No one in your life had ever truly loved you. You’d always had to jump through hoops to earn love. It was never just given. The problem was every single time you thought you were crossing the finish line, that line got erased and moved farther away. Nothing you did was ever enough. Everything was always your fault.

Of course it was. When you met Joe, you’d been so swept away by him completely. Those soft brown eyes that pulled you right in, those full lips that were so delicious pressed against yours, those curls with that one rogue curl that always fell over his forehead. He was perfect, but you’d been keeping him at arm’s length, terrified to let him in completely, to give him the power to destroy you as others had. You’d been terrified to let him really see you because…you hated what you saw. How could he not? When he’d said those words the other night, you’d felt the anxiety building within you because you knew the truth. You were unlovable. You’d been reminded of that your entire life.

A knock at your front door stirred you from your morose thoughts. You turned your face into your pillow, hoping whoever it was would go away when you didn’t answer. Your body didn’t have enough strength to get up and open the door and your brain definitely didn’t have the capacity for a conversation with anyone.

“Darling!” Joe’s voice called and a whimper escaped your lips at the sound of his voice. All you wanted was his arms around you, that sweet British accent whispering assuring words in your ear, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t let him see you like this. “Come on, love, I know you’re in there. I was worried because you haven’t been answering the phone. Janice said you called off work the last couple of days because you weren’t feeling well. I brought you chicken soup. I just want to take care of you.”

You pulled the comforter over your head, wishing you could drown out that honeyed voice, his words that were dripping through all the empty, hollow places within you. How did he do that? How did his mere presence just shine light in all the dark places? But no, you couldn’t let him in. You hadn’t showered in three days. You’d been lying in your dark cave, curtains drawn to block out all light. You couldn’t imagine how awful you must look right now.

“Sweetheart, are you going to let me in?” he asked, knocking again. “Come on, I don’t care if you’re not feeling well. Let me nurse you back to health.”

You stayed silent, barely breathing, silently wishing for him to abandon this plan and leave. Your whole body lay still, terrified to move, to give away the fact that you were in here. You had no idea how you would explain ignoring him, but that was a problem for another day. You couldn’t focus on that right now. You had to get your shit together before you faced him again.

A slow sigh escaped your lips as silence greeted you. He was gone. Your weakness and instability remained a secret. Just as you were closing your eyes, you let out a scream as a loud bang echoed through the room. Sitting up quickly, you turned your head to find Joe climbing in through your bedroom window.

“What the hell, Joe?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with terror and shock at this man just breaking into your house.

He paused, tupperware in his hand, and offered you the sweetest, contrite smile. Holding up the tupperware, he looked back at the window and then at you.

“Okay, I know this might seem a bit extreme, but you weren’t answering me, darling. I was worried. What if you were so sick that you couldn’t get out of bed or needed to go to hospital? I thought of breaking the door, but I didn’t want to cause damage so I decided to try the window and well, here I am.” He shrugged, holding the soup out to you. “Chicken soup for you. I made it myself. My mum always made me some when I was sick and so I thought…I don’t know. I thought it might make you feel better.”

You took in the sight of this man, this sweet man who’d broken into your place just because he wanted to bring you soup and make sure you were okay. Not only that, but he’d made the chicken soup himself. Jesus, he was the most precious man. You wanted to break your walls down and let him in but it was so difficult. You’d been hurt in the past, every time you’d decided to break a little piece of your wall and allow someone to sneak through, you paid for it deeply.

Joe walked over, sitting down on the bed next to you. He set the soup on your nightstand and then stretched out beside you. His arms wound around you, pulling you against him and you melted into his warmth, burying your face against his shirt, inhaling the scent of him, feeling it loosen all the tight spaces that had knotted within you over the last few days.

“So, what is it, darling?” he asked, his palm rubbing circles over your back. “Upset stomach? Cold? Flu? What is ailing my sweet girl?”

“I…uh…” You had no idea what to say. How could you explain that what was ailing you had nothing to do with your body but with your mind and your heart? You considered lying but this man who had gone so far out of his way to care for you deserved better than that. “I’m not actually sick.”

“You’re not?” he asked, no judgment in his tone, just concern. “Then what is it? What has you so down?”

“Joseph…I…shit,” you muttered. You really didn’t want to have to share this with him. Once you told him, would he see you the same way your family did? As expendable? As worthless? As someone who didn’t deserve love?

“Hey, love, look at me,” Joe urged, his knuckle pressing under your chin, raising your face so your eyes met his. “You can tell me anything. I love you. I told you that. There is nothing you should ever be scared to share with me. I just want to be here for you, darling.”

You released a slow breath, “It’s just family bullshit. I try not to deal with them as much as I can. I left when I was nineteen and I avoided them at all costs. I’m basically estranged from them. But sometimes, shit happens, and I have to deal with them. It always fucks with my head. My whole life…” You paused, swallowing down the lump of tears that had lodged in your throat. “My whole life, I’ve never been good enough. I’ve felt like I was the expendable member of my family. I always had to earn love but nothing I did was ever enough. Every time I thought I had the game figured out, they would change the rules. And every time that I have to talk to them, they remind me how unlovable, how unworthy, I really am.”

“Oh my darling, you are anything but unloveable. You are the most loveable person I know,” Joe assured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You are so worthy and anyone who doesn’t see that, who missed out on the chance to have you as a part of their life, that’s their loss.”

“That’s sweet, but…”

“No buts,” he stated firmly, taking your face in his hands. “You listen to me. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are intelligent. You are strong. I’ve always thought you were strong but now I know how very strong you are for getting through what you’ve gone through and still being open to love. You haven’t shut down. You haven’t hidden from the world or become jaded and nasty. You are more than worthy, my love. You are exemplary. You are a wonder.”

Tears stung your eyes and you nibbled on your bottom lip as you took in his words. Could it be true? Could someone as perfect as Joe actually see all of that in you? Could you be worthy? Could the problem be them and not actually you? You wanted to believe it more than anything.

“My poor, sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks. “I am so sorry that your family are a bunch of bloody idiots, but know that I see you and I value you and I am so thankful that you chose me. I know how very lovable you are because I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Need unlike anything you’d ever known pulsed through you. The need to be as close to this man as possible, to feel his love for you, to feel like you were as worthy as he told you that you were.

Crawling over top of him, you smashed your lips against his in a frenzy of lust and need. Joe groaned, his arms coming around you, crushing you against him. You parted his lips with your tongue, sucking on his tongue and then your tongues were warring against each other in a frenzy of chaotic desire.

“Too many clothes. I need your skin on mine,” you muttered, your fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, pressing the material away from his chest. Joe sat up so you could pull the sleeves down his arms and toss the shirt. You make quick work of your own shirt before collapsing against him, your mouth finding his again.

“Damn darling,” Joe hissed as your mouth blazed a fiery trail over his skin, savoring every delectable inch of him that your lips could find.

He sat up, his hand cupping the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his, his kiss setting a fire in your belly that needed to be quenched with an unsettling urgency. His mouth fell upon your breasts, working one nipple and then the other until you were writhing, desperately rubbing yourself against him in an attempt to find relief that would not come until you’d done away with the rest of these clothes.

“Joe…” you groaned, moving off him to pull your sweats and panties down in one swift movement. “Pants…get your pants off now.”

“Oh…uh, yeah,” he nodded, hastily pushing them away. “But darling, don’t you want me to…”

“No, no time,” you argued, straddling him again. “I need you now.” You gripped his cock, holding it in place as you lowered yourself over him, your eyes rolling back at the feel of him stretching you in the delicious way only he had ever done.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, raising his knees so you could rest against them. You grabbed the back of his neck, using it as leverage as you moved your body against his, both of you moaning at the sweet relief of your bodies being joined. “Love, that’s so bloody good. Don’t stop my sweet girl.”

Oh, you had no intentions to. Your body was vibrating with the feel of him inside you, this angle allowing him to hit that sweet spot that always sent you over the edge. His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb working over your clit and you whimpered, your head falling back.

“Oh Joe! Yes baby. Fuck,” you muttered, your hips moving at a frenzied pace, rocking against his cock and his hand, your body desperate for the sweet release only Joe’s body could give you.

“Look at you,” he growled, gripping your hip with his other hand as he lifted his hips to meet yours, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through your ears. “Tell me this isn’t a worthy fucking woman. You are a warrior. You are fierce and sexy and gorgeous and…Jesus!”

At his words, your orgasm crashed upon you, your body convulsing with the relief you felt, everything you’d been feeling the last few days just seeping out of you. You shrieked in ecstasy and as your body spasmed around him, you felt Joe follow, filling you with his release.

Your entire body shook, completely spent with adrenaline and pent up emotion that you’d finally let flow through you. The tears you’d been fighting since he’d come through your window began spilling down your cheeks and you fell forward, burying your face against his neck. Joe’s arms instinctively came around you, cradling you close, him still inside you.

“Oh darling,” he murmured against your hair, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. “It’s alright. You let it out. I’m here for you. Just, let me clean up and then…”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Can we just stay like this for a bit? Please? I just…I want to feel as connected to you as I can. I want to feel…I don’t know, like I am a part of something.”

“My love, you are,” Joe assured, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “You are a part of us. You are a part of me, and I am not going anywhere ever. We can sit like this for as long as you want. I am never going to complain about having my cock nestled snugly inside you. Your pussy is his home, you know?”

You laughed softly, looking up and kissing him. “I know I didn’t say it the other night. I’m sorry. It’s just…love has always been a complicated thing for me. It always came with strings and I…”

“Shh,” he said, pressing his finger to your lips. “I said it because I felt it at that moment. You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.”

“But I do feel it, and I am ready,” you said. “Joe, I love you. And that scares the shit out of me. It does. Because loving you means that I have so much more to lose, but it doesn’t change how I feel. And, if I didn’t know before tonight, I know now with absolute certainty that you’re worth the risk.”

That smile, that warm smile that made all your insides as gooey as the marshmallow in the middle of a s’more crossed his lips and you couldn’t help but smile back. Those big puppy dog eyes looked at you with such affection that you could believe, at that moment, that this could be different. He could just love you. No games, no strings, no ultimatums. Just simple and pure.

“Hey, who needs your family? Just because they’re blood doesn’t make them family. You and me? We can be a family. We can create the kind of family you’ve always deserved,” Joe said and you swallowed hard as the sentiment behind his words settled in.

“You really think about that stuff with me?”

“Oh darling,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about those things from the moment our eyes met. I know what I want and I am not saying we have to rush anything, but I promise you, I will spend my life making sure you know how very worthy and loved you are.”

You tucked yourself against this man, thinking he was absolutely perfect. How could one man be so fucking exquisite? You were one lucky girl and regardless of what you’d been through in the past, if it ended with a life shared with Joe, then everything was going to be okay.

#joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn smut #joe quinn #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #fluff and smut #smut #fluff #joe quinn comfort #comfort

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delopsia · 2 years

Text

Something Unholy | Rhett Abbot x Reader

Word Count: 3,600 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Fem!Reader, unprotected sex in a church, mild size-kink, and a dash of Rhett having a corruption kink and getting off on the idea of cumming inside you.

"I sure hope you ain't tellin' me what to do, dollface."

Oh, the things you would give to wrap both your hands around this motherfuckers thick neck and—

"—Can you please, just put the paper towels on the shelf?" Speaking in the firmest tone you can muster, cheeks flaming so hot you fear they may turn cherry red.

"And why does this have to involve me?" God, Rhett just keeps going; the choir girls are starting to notice, casting wayward glances from under false lashes as they whisper amongst each other behind open palms.

"Because you're tall enough to reach the shelf, and I'm not," pushing the paper towels toward him once more, forcing him to take them, "and if God wanted me to put them up there, he would have made me taller, or he would have given me a stepping stool."

For the first time all morning, Rhett's quiet, and for as much as he's fussed about this, you'd think this momentous task would take him longer than three seconds to complete. You're starting to see why Cece doesn't drag him along to Sunday services more often.

He continues to loom in the corner, leaning up against the wall like some sort of hot shot whilst he just watches. Wild blue eyes follow your every movement as you finish setting up the coffee booth like he's getting some sort of enjoyment out of watching you mull about. Doesn't offer help, just watches.

Asshole.

As soon as you start to walk away, ready to settle into the corner of an old, stained church pew, he pushes off the wall and starts to walk too. Like a shadow, following each and every step until all of a sudden, you're sitting between the end of the bench and Rhett Abbott.

"Do you have to sit so close to me?" Grumbling, you try to scoot further off, but there's not enough space for you to do so.

Rhett's jeaned thigh presses harder against your own, "yes, I do, actually."

"You're an ass," it comes out louder than you intend to, but if anyone overhears, they don't mention it. Not yet, at least.

"Wow, swearing in church now, are we?" Smug.

You're still contemplating strangling him right here and now; an attempted murder charge sounds a lot better than sitting in this hell for an hour and a half. The bastard is probably into it, knowing his reputation. The only thing that actually stops you from finding out is the sudden booming voice from the podium, commanding all eyes and ears on him, silence falling upon the room.

Usually, the preacher's go-to is to have everyone shake hands and welcome one another, but you're thankful that he skips right over the tradition in favor of jumping straight into his speech. A direct continuation of last week's sermon, according to the woman whispering behind you. You're not quite sure how, but you know Rhett would have given you more trouble if you got up to greet people.

As if on cue, a calloused hand settles on your exposed knee, just below the hem of your Sunday dress. Maybe it's because the air conditioner is running in the middle of December, but his hand feels so hot you fear it may melt right through your skin.

"Rhett," whispering as quietly as you can, "get your hands off me."

It only serves to make your situation worse because he leans over to whisper directly into your ear, "seems to me you're in need of someone to keep you warm."

Teeth nip at the lobe of your ear, tugging on it for a fleeting second. His hand slides off your knee, if only for a muscular arm to drape over your shoulders instead. Great, absolutely wonderful.

But God, he's warm, and he's changed his started wearing that seasonal cologne he wears every December. Something bordering hot chocolate and vanilla, not overly sweet but so, so warm. It matches him in the strangest of ways, you conclude, as you reluctantly melt into his side.

Okay, this is...alright. There are several couples doing this very thing in front of you, nothing weird about this at all. It's not like you can argue when Rhett is practically a blazing furnace right next to you; this dress is cute, but it definitely was not made for the colder months.

For a long minute, all you find yourself doing is curling into Rhett Abbott's side and listening to the preacher's voice as it grows louder and louder. A relaxed conversation about coming clean to those around you devolves into a rant about sinners and sex before marriage. The longer it goes, the stiffer Rhett becomes next to you, until all of a sudden, he's drawing away from you.

Without a word, he gets up and walks out.

Strangely, you don't hear the front doors squeak open, nor do you feel the icy draft that always sneaks inside. For a minute, you reckon he's just gone to the men's room. The more time passes, the more you don't think that's so true.

Fifteen minutes after Rhett vanished, you excuse yourself and quietly venture out into the hallway.

"Rhett?" You try, but your voice vanishes under the preacher's louder one.

Even so, the felt brim of a cowboy hat pokes out from behind a door, dark brown in color and a little ripped in the front. You only know one man with a hat like that. It seems he didn't hear you because he's eyes brighten at the sight of you like he's been waiting on you to come looking for him this whole time.

"There you are," he breathes, struggling to fight off the shit-eating grin that's working its way across his face as he reaches for you. "Did I even manage to get under your skin?"

"I thought you were kidding when you suggested this shit," you hiss, but you don't stop him from guiding you into this tiny little office space with its large mahogany desk and beat-up loveseat. "Of course, you got under my skin, you ass!"

Rhett shoves you down onto the couch with a soft thump and drops to his knees so swiftly that you hear them hit the floor. The force of it jostles his hat, but he's not concerned in the slightest with readjusting it, "good."

There's no teasing or beating around the bush in the way he pulls your hips toward the edge of the couch, rucking the skirt of your dress up in the process, "then I suppose you won't mind me making it up to you?"

Hot breath ghosts up your cold thighs, sparks a newfound heat directly between your legs. Okay, that, that...

"Was this your plan all along?" Leaning into the cushions of the couch, this is all so sudden, but you're not one to complain when his nose is brushing against the only fabric he hasn't pushed to the side yet.

"Do you expect anything less from me, darlin'?" Long lashes bat themselves up at you as he speaks, bordering devilish in tone and something soft in gaze.

A hot tongue drags up the front of your panties, forces eye contact as he does so. So much all at once, but not enough. The vague pressure of his tongue isn't enough when there's such a thin layer of cotton separating him from where you want him. Only when you're about to pull them off yourself does he reach up and hook his fingers under the thin elastic waistband.

"Bring your hips up, doll," murmuring into your thigh, and you're just barely able to muster the strength to do so.

Finally, finally, he pulls your panties off, neatly folding and tucking them into his back pocket like a trophy. Sure hope you get those back; those are one of your current favorites.

Your thoughts are cut short by the sudden sensation of a dripping tongue swirling at your clit, sloppy and oh-so-wet. It's so abrupt that you find yourself jolting away, only to be drawn back in by steady hands on your hips, holding you in place as he licks you up and down in fat stripes.

"Rhett," gasping for a breath you can't seem to catch, "fuck, did you forget we're in church?"

He hums into you, sends a shock wave up your spine with it. His wandering tongue finds your entrance, lapping at it incessantly but not quite pushing inside at first. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit, "been thinkin' of havin' you on my tongue since that alarm went off this mornin'."

"So that's why you volunteered to come along?" Whining as he nods his head, "bastard—ah!"

Just like that, Rhett's tongue slips inside of you, working in and out in languid thrusts as his nose presses harder into you. This little room is so quiet that you can hear the slick sound of his tongue working itself into your quivering cunt, his mouth so wet that it feels like he's drooling.

Reaching down, he gets ahold of your thigh and guides your leg up over his shoulder, gives him better access to your writhing body. Practically fucks you open with his tongue, the soft tip of his nose bumping into your clit over and over. Enough to make you squirm, not enough to get you off.

"Rhett, if you don't," the beginning of your threat is shaky, not intimidating even in the slightest, "get off that floor and fuck me right now."

His eyebrows raise, and his tongue slips out of you with the wettest noise you've ever heard. Fuck, he really must have been drooling, swollen, spit-slicked lips and wet chin glistening in the light, "yes, ma'am." The bastard just has to say it with a smile, too.

He makes no move to come up, though, and as his dominant hand lowers between your legs, you realize he's planning to lick you as he works you open. But you really, really want to kiss him right now.

Lowering your leg from his shoulder, you seize him by the collar and pull. It takes him a moment to comply, and for a brief second, you think he's glued himself to that thinly-carpeted floor. With the softest whine, he rises, settling into the empty space next to you like a big ol' puppy. His eyes wide and confused, and it's not until you curl your fingers into his hair and drag him in that he realizes what you're doing.

"Kisses?" Whispering directly against your lips, surprised, but oh, does he just melt right into it.

Soft, at first, just the simple mesh of lips that haven't touched each other since you first woke up, but then Rhett's finding his footing. Kisses you with a dizzying intensity, one hand cradling your cheek, the other slipping between your legs to tease the pad of his finger against your dripping entrance.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer, impossibly so, and it's so sloppy that you can't tell who's in control or who's calling the shots here. His thick finger presses into you, working in and out until he's knuckle deep, but he kisses you so softly, following your motions like a shadow.

"Is that you clenchin' on my finger, or have I really not fucked you in a while?" His finger works in and out of you so slowly, a soft, simple motion that drags his knuckles against a gooey spot inside of you. Shit, when was—when was the last time you actually...?

"Both," you blurt, breathless, "I think this is the longest we've gone." Coincidentally, you think the last time you had sex was also on a couch. Given it was your couch and not some dingy thing in the back office of a church.

It's only been a few weeks, three at the most, but it's been long enough for there to be a little bit of an ache as a second finger works into you. There's no way you're going to be walking out of here without a slight waddle in your step.

In and out, over and over, until he can work in a third. A thumb on your clit distracts you from the stretch, rubbing soft circles for every centimeter he eases into you. You're squirming, not sure if you're running away from the stimulation on your clit or chasing the feeling of those thick fingers delving in and out of you in short little thrusts.

"Why are your fingers so fucking big?" Gasping as he kisses down your neck, those fingers curling against that little spot again.

"Are they big?" And he's nibbling at the meet of your jaw, almost speaking directly into your ear, "or are you just small?"

He's just big.

Shaky, you fumble with his belt, absolutely relieved when you find that he isn't wearing one of those oversized rodeo buckles that are so hard to get open in times like these. Rhett chuckles against your skin, makes no effort to help or stop you as you pop the button to his jeans open. His fingers only quicken, properly fucking you with them now, and it makes it that much harder to reach past his waistband.

"Shit," he hisses, jolting as your hand wraps around him and draws him out. Only letting him go to spit into your palm, wetting it just enough to stroke him smoothly. He's hard as a rock in your hand, heavy like one, too. Slow, he eases out of you, and with how empty you're feeling now, you hate to imagine how it's going to feel in a little bit.

Your back hits the couch with a soft noise, the furniture creaking under the sudden placement of your weight. Then, Rhett's between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing against your freshly stretched rim but not pushing inside yet.

"Didn't bring a condom," he breathes, "sure hope that ain't a problem, sweetheart."

He sure doesn't sound apologetic.

"Has it ever been a problem?" And there's more you want to say, but it's hard to speak when he presses into you, makes your back arch as he splits you wide open.

Your legs clamp down around his lithe waist, lungs burning as you try and fail to regain your long-gone composure. Don't quite realize you had made a noise until he's shushing you, easing deeper inside until you feel his head fully enter you. Moves so, so slow that it's agonizing.

Rhett pauses for just a second, chest heaving, "so tight, baby."

"Can you move any faster?" You're intentionally leaving out the part that the longer he takes, the harder it is for you to keep your thighs from shaking around him.

"Hold on, darlin'," seizing your hips in his hands as he speaks, holding you still as he just about fucking stops, "I'm a little big for you, ain't I?"

Big is a fucking understatement. Rhett's only about halfway in you, and you already can't fucking breathe. Never can. No matter how many times he's fucked you, slow, hard, it doesn't matter; you can never seem to get used to how big he is.

His hands aren't big just for show; they're a fucking warning.

Finally, finally, finally, his hips come flush to yours, and you don't think there's any room for your lungs even to function anymore. Panting so hard that you don't realize Rhett's dropping to his forearms, kissing sweetly at your cheek. Such a stark contrast to the devilish roll of his hips between your legs.

"Such a good girl for me," he soothes, "takin' every single inch just like that."

His hips roll in tight little circles, getting you used to his size until you can catch your breath, long enough for your head to stop spinning, at least. All you have to do is nod your head once, and he's drawing back out of you, so familiar with your cues that he knows exactly what you're asking for.

Then he's pushing back into you, and it's not even a long stroke, but it's enough to have you whimpering anyway. So thick that the head of his cock effortlessly massages the gooey spot inside your stretched pussy; you think you could cum just from this alone.

"That preacher don't know what the hell he's talkin' about," and it's only now that you realize the sermon is still going, muffled but very audible through these old walls, "every little lady deserves a man that can fuck her right."

Rhett punctuates his sentence with a harder thrust, sending stars sparkling behind your eyelids like a light show. Well, you can't argue with that statement. Not when he's doubling down and drilling into you in sharp, deep strokes that bullies his fat cockhead right into your sweet spot, kissing it with each and every stroke inward.

"Rhett!" Fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, threatening to tear right into the thin material of his dress shirt. It's a kiss that smothers the whimper that boils out of your throat, dizzying but so, so tame compared to how his hips are working between your legs.

"Look at you," leaning back until he's on his haunches, "innocent little thing gettin' fucked good by the big, bad cowboy."

With that, he draws his hips back, snapping them back into you with a force that has you yelping. Hope nobody could hear that. Rhett's pace is changing, unrelenting, as he punches each and every breath out of your burning lungs. Feels so, so good that you can barely keep your eyes from fluttering shut, and it's all you can do to keep quiet when he licks his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit.

"Oh, your hips are buckin' like mad now," and he has the absolute audacity to chuckle as he says it like he isn't in the middle of ruining you, "damn, girl."

"Hard to keep still when—" you can't finish your sentence, cut off by a wickedly sharp thrust, and he just holds it there. Grinding into you and eliciting this wet squelch that sounds absolutely sinful.

It feels so good that the edges of your vision is starting to go white, and you don't know when you've started shaking, but you can't stop. Pussy throbbing as he settles down atop you again, legs just barely able to stay hooked over his hips. Rhett's moaning into your ear, deep and breathy, and you're not doing all that much, but it sounds like you're making him feel just as good as he's doing to you.

"Do you wanna feel me cum inside you?" He whispers, biting at the shell of your ear, "do you wanna feel that?"

All you can do is hum, barely able even to nod your head. The simple notion of Rhett cumming inside you is enough to have a coil tightening between your legs, clamping down impossibly tight around his thick cock.

"Oh god," he's just barely able to keep talking, and the longer he goes on, the closer you can feel yourself getting, "so bad," punctuating it with another heavy thrust, "so bad."

You want to reach down between your legs and urge his thumb to rub you a little bit faster, but you're not even sure you can take any more than what he's giving you. Not when he keeps whispering dirty things in your ear, with these breathy little grunts that keep adding to the fire burning up in your lower belly.

"So bad, but you make it so good," no, no, now you're batting his hand away from your clit, because if he keeps rubbing it while he's talking like this, your orgasm is going to his you right this very second. With another little grunt, Rhett starts talking again, "oh, baby, I'm gonna fill you up."

His thrusts are quickening, hips getting twitchy and messing up his rhythm in the most delicious of ways, "'m gonna fill you up with my cum."

All of a sudden, you can't breathe anymore, your body going taut as you cum around his twitching cock. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, heart pounding so heavily it just might break its way out your ribs. Everything's spinning; you can't fucking think; all you know is Rhett's grunting quietly into your ear, and his hips are stalling. Filling you with hot spurts of his cum, until there's not a single millimeter of empty space left inside you.

"That's right," you can just barely hear him, but he's there, "that's fuckin' right, takin' every last drop of me."

You're not sure how long it takes you to come back, to get your head out from the clouds and back down to earth, but when you do, Rhett's already eased himself out of you. Tucked away inside his jeans again, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead as his thumb pushes his cum back inside your swollen cunt.

"You alright?" He asks sweetly, kissing the inside of your knee.

It takes every fiber in your being to bring yourself to nod your head. Yeah, yeah, more than alright.

"How 'bout I carry you outta here before they start lettin' folks out," he's so soft compared to just a few moments ago when he was drilling into you and whispering such filthy things, "get all settled up in a bath and have a nice, lazy day."

All you have to do is hum your consent, and he's gathering you up into his chest, lifting you like it's the easiest thing he's ever done. It's hard to be cold when he picks his coat up off the rack on the way out, draping it over you like a big blanket. Yeah, a nice, lazy day sounds better than whatever the hell you had planned.

And if anybody notices your sudden disappearances or the unmistakable sounds that came from the preacher's old office, they don't say a damn thing.

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