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xiaosonlybeloved · 6 months

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Longing~ Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru, fem!reader, Megumi tags:- fluff fluff and fluff, reader is called petnames by Gojo (mostly darling) a/n:- sigh you all got lucky with the fluff again there won't be a next time and i love this man sm (and yes i did repost this bc i accidentally deleted the post ahaha...)

wc:-1.4k

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“Noo, [Y/N], no, don’t do this!” Gojo Satoru whined. “Why must you torture me like this? Are you really that cruel and heartless?” Previously, Gojo had been clinging to your arm while pushing his weight backwards towards the bed, but when that didn’t work, he gave up. Which meant that he had now attached himself to your back fully like a koala, still pulling his weight backwards to stop you from moving. With his lanky 190cm frame, your boyfriend had no trouble whatsoever in trapping you against him with his arms. Clearly, lady Luck wasn’t on his side though, because unfortunately you were still undeterred as you trudged towards the living room with the extra weight of a parasite on you, ignoring his whines of “No, darling!” and “Don’t do this to me!”. After all, you had absolutely no intention of failing this project assignment which was a pretty major part of your grades, whether Satoru did or not. And its just his misfortune that he begged the teacher to be paired with you,

The living room was illuminated by the soft golden glow of the setting sun as you stopped in front of the couch with your back towards it, ignoring Satoru’s protests. “‘Toru, get off and get serious. You know this is darn important.” “Not more important than both of us getting our beauty sleep! Nothing is more important than that.” You tried to give him an unimpressed look behind your back. “You do know that if you fail this assignment, you’ll probably fail this year, right?” “I’m the one and only great Gojo Satoru, I’m literally not capable of failing.” He shot right back. “High talk for someone who cried like anything when he barely passed last year.”

You turned your head to give him a nasty look, before pushing your body backwards. A surprised yelp escaped your boyfriend as he tumbled onto the sofa haphazardly, with you over him. Satoru was now trapped between you and the sofa, causing you to grin triumphantly as you started to get up to get the books out.

However, that little moment of inattention was enough for Satoru, who once again wrapped his arms firmly around your waist before rolling over on the spacious couch. He propped himself up with both elbows on either side of your surprised face as he lay over you, a cocky smirk adorning his face. “Satoru.” “Nops, darling, not getting up.” He laughed. “Gojo Satoru, get. Up.” “You know that’s not gonna happen, sweets.” He chuckled, the sound making your heart beat faster. A moment later, his lips were on yours as he drowned out your next scoldings with a sweet kiss. And naturally, you couldn’t resist it as you gave in, pulling him closer. (Inner you was sighing at your weakness for this man.) “See?” Satoru said triumphantly as he separated himself from you after you both were out of breath. “Don’t you think this would have been much better than studying?” You dragged out a sigh and didn’t say anything. At that, Satoru leaned closer to your face again as he drawled out, “Cmon, I know you agree, darling. Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Fine, Toru. Let’s make a deal.” He groaned at that as he said, “You’re not going to give up, are you?” “No, because I want good grades, but I can see you clearly aren’t going to give up either. So let’s both have our way. Since this is a maths project, we’ll divide it in half between us. So what should have normally taken six to eight hours will be done in three-ish hours. After that, we do whatever you want us to do as your reward for suffering with me.”

“Anything?” You sighed again. “Yes, Toru, anything, as long as it's reasonable.” Satoru grinned. “That works. Don’t go back on your promise, ‘kay darling?” “Yeah yeah yeah. Now get up.” He groaned again. “But this is so comfy!” You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes before saying, “I promised you your reward. That’s not gonna happen unless you get up.”, clearly enunciating the last words.

He pouted as he slowly dragged himself up, dramatically throwing his arms behind him as he exclaims, “ My girlfriend hates me now. Oh, what am I to do?” You roll your eyes as you pull out the assignment papers and two roughbooks- you’d fair them out later.

Almost as if on cue, Satoru’s cat came up to you, affectionately rubbing your ankles. At the betrayed gasp that came out of Satoru’s pretty mouth, the cat stopped nuzzling into you, instead staring at Gojo unblinkingly. “My cat turned on me too! Someone kill me!”

You laughed unsympathetically at Satoru’s woebegone expression, reaching down to pet his adorable cat. “Hey, don’t you think he’s acting like how you usually act?” You addressed his cat. She turned her stare to you instead, as if asking, “You’re putting me on the same level as this drama king? How low of you.” A moment later, a squeal escaped you as you started giggling uncontrollably. “Stop-Toru-stop=okay okay fine! Stop tickling me!” His savior of a cat instantly leapt up to your rescue as she started scratching his hands with her claws, causing him to immediately stop and pout at the cat, upset. You chuckled at Satoru’s theatrics as you squished his cheeks. “Now, get cracking, or you’re never gonna get that reward.”

*******

Nearly four or five hours had passed till then- you lost track- and Satoru’s patience was now nonexistent.

See, he’d planned to get over with it quickly,but in his hurry he kept making the stupidest mistakes in most of the questions.This wore out your patience very quickly, and you made him redo every single question that he got wrong till he got it right, telling him to not be in such a haste. Hence why it stretched out so long.

You shut the books loudly at long last, stomping off to the kitchen to get some much needed snacks., exhausted beyond belief. Satoru followed you like a lost puppy after a few moments, face appropriately contrite. You decided to ignore him as you munched on some chocolate wafers.

Satoru had the audacity to grab the rest of the packet from you, and collect even more snacks from the cupboards, causing you to glare at him angrily. He grinned in response, free from maths, as he dragged you back to the living room, quickly hiding the books and grabbing the TV remote.

“What are you doing now, Satoru?” You grumbled as he dragged you along. He flipped on the TV switch and settled onto the couch comfortable, pulling you onto the couch with him and snuggling into you.He put the stash of snacks on the table in front between you two and smirked. “Its movie night. You did promise, after all.” You shrugged, not averse to the idea. “Only if I get to choose what we watch.” “Sure thing, darling.”

*******

The TV light was still on at 4 am, the nth movie you two had watched was paused. You had fallen asleep on Satoru’s shoulder at some point of time, legs pulled up, cuddling against him. Snack crumbs were littered around the sofa, and Satoru wiped off a few from near your mouth gently, careful to not wake you up. He kept staring at your sleeping expression with a fondness in his eyes.

The entire scene was so very domestic, it made Satoru’s heart long for more. He carefully adjusted your head against his shoulder more comfortably. Sometime in the night, Megumi had joined you two, although he’d promptly fallen asleep, shown by his light snores. His head was on your lap and his legs on Satoru’s.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto Satoru’s face as he gazed at the two people he loved with all his heart and more.

He wanted this to last forever.

But for now, he settled with whispering a soft “I love you.”, gently tucking in your hair and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and covering Megumi with the blanket he’d thrown off, resting his head upon yours afterwards.

requests are open, and tags, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

#skylia's works #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk gojo #jjk oneshots #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff

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interpolanticssuperfan · 8 months

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nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 1 | 18+ only

warnings: this will eventually contain smut so please be mindful. part of my goal is to explore ken developing a relationship with a human who struggles with their own vices, and doesn't feel qualified to teach him how to be human. i'd consider this slow burn with obviously eventual relationship fluff and smut (this includes ken doing things like drinking alcohol for the first time, having sexual experiences for the first time, etc.) not sure how many parts this will be but i will keep everyone updated!

also - my main is @snuffbby i just didnt feel comfortable posting it there, but you can follow me there if you want to chat or ask questions about this ongoing work. thanks <3 <3

Meeting Ken was actually a complete and unforeseen fluke – not on your part, it’s not like you were looking for him.

Frankly, you weren’t looking for anything at this point in your life. Burnt out, at the end of your rope with men and content to enjoy your own company in the comfort of your apartment, happy to work your menial clerical job for the rest of your life until a better paying career fell into your lap.

Or whatever.

You didn’t really care. As odd as it sounded, you were thankful right now for boring. For humdrum chores, for cleaning the kitchen and brainlessly answering emails for eight hours a day until your joints ached.

Having been out of college for four years now, you’d put in a decent tenure at your current company doing data entry. It wasn’t challenging and afforded you plenty of freedom in your schedule. That being said, most days were seamless copies of one another – wake up, feed your guinea pig, stretch on the tiny sliver of patio out front, then head to the library down the road to work until your eyes crossed from screen fatigue.

Nothing really ever changed. Yogurt for breakfast every morning. Repeated motions of the only three yoga poses you knew. Even your guinea pig seemed to look at you with confusion sometimes when you fed her, tiny eyes ogling up at you from her spacious enclosure.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you’d mutter, dropping in romaine lettuce and pellets for her. And after every complaint, she would twirl in a circle, waiting for her daily brushing.

The library was a godsend on these hot summer days, air conditioned and quiet. You didn’t even need headphones, but preferred them to focus. The secretary stopped asking if she could help you find anything when she realized you’d become a regular patron of the modern looking white table near the massive windows.

“Good morning, Pat,” you’d smile as you passed, and she’d give you a little wave, usually on the phone with someone or engrossed in a book of her own.

Updating spreadsheets. Notifying supervisors of progress. Nearly nodding off at eleven thirty. It had been shaping up to be an entirely normal, predictable, cut and dry day. Until a silhouette by the front desk grew bigger, approaching your peripheral and then flat out startling you. Numbers and figures had started to blur together, so you blinked hard and shut your laptop – just to find an incredibly curious sight across from you.

Sat comfortable and cross-legged in the opposing chair was one of, if not the most objectively attractive men you’d ever seen in your entire life. Pretty in a way that bordered on unnatural, like a living sculpture. A long, denim-clad arm splayed out lazily along the back of the chair.

This man gave you a calculated yet warm smirk that danced across his features. Bleached blonde like a model and face angled, glazed in sunlight that inched through the windows. He was something straight out of a fairytale – picturesque, almost glowing.

Where had he come from?

“Is this seat taken?” Inexplicably you felt the back of your neck heating up, a ring of sweat forming around your collar where your necklace was clasped. It seemed to sear into your skin as you fumbled over your words, deciding what to say to the stranger who’d placed himself in front of you like an apparition.

“I… no, I’m here by myself. Working, I’m, uh. Just working.” Strangely, you noticed him make a fist to himself, concealed partly by the table, but his gesture of victory was obvious, as if he’d just won a bet or something. The blonde composed himself then with a twitch of his neck, nodding evenly, instantaneously cool as a cucumber again. His bright blue eyes studied you, your laptop and planner on the desk, your bag hanging across the arm of the chair. You’d never needed the air conditioning to be effective more so than this moment. Crank it way up – igloo this place all the way.

“Excellent. My name’s Ken.” Big blue eyes finally locking with yours, he puffed his chest out, like a purple and green speckled peacock trying to attract a mate with his confidence, his easy bravado. Though it was difficult to ignore the openness – the curiosity in his eyes as he took you in.

Like it was his first time talking to a woman, or at least trying to do… whatever he was doing right now with you.

You felt that your instincts would warn you if this neatly manicured man was making you uneasy or frightened, but you didn’t notice an inkling of displeasure. On the contrary, it was almost electrifying to be stared at like this. Flattering.

Had been months, almost a year since anyone paid attention to you like this.

“Ken?” Unable to stop the laugh, you tilted your head sideways, scooting your chair back to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Ken. Wait – I’m sorry, that’s not true. My dad’s boss was named Ken. But you wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think so, I have no idea where you’re from. He was an engineer, this senior engineer for a huge company in New Jersey… we don’t keep in touch, he’s sort of an asshole.” You found yourself rambling on as you drank this surprising man in, freely sharing details about yourself without even telling him your name first.

But what an interesting view he was. Painted still with this deeply intoxicating smile, pupils darting and eager like an energetic puppy.

“I am not from New Jersey. But I’m sorry the other Ken was – what did you call him?”

“An... asshole?”

“Yes, I’m sorry he was that.” Your long winded introduction didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He kept his gaze unmoving right on your face, like he was terrified to break eye contact.

You eyed his white cowboy boots (did people still wear those?), black leather pants that hugged his legs like a gift from the heavens, and a long sleeved white denim jacket that appeared to be cropped, revealing just a hint of his lower stomach, and when you caught your eyes lingering for just too long on the tanned patch of skin peeking out, you sighed, shutting yourself up.

You couldn’t shake one thing, though; leather and denim on a day like this? It was nearly ninety outside, you remembered, and cocked your head at him.

“Oh, I was talking about my dad, not his boss. And I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Ken replied, studying you to gauge your reaction to his compliment. It was clear Ken was attempting to hit on you, and it was equal parts unfamiliar and gratifying.

“Thank you. I’ve never had anyone say that about my name.” Ken winced as if shot through the heart, his flawless eyebrows flying up to his flawless hairline, and he clutched at the buttons on his jacket. This display would have probably seemed incredibly dramatic on any other man, but for some reason it read as… serious on Ken.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Well, I really appreciate your honesty, Ken.”

“It’s no problem at all. I would never lie to you. Not in a hundred million years.”

Very heartfelt words coming from someone you’ve known for all of… four minutes, generously.

You quirked your head, caught off guard by his comment. “I… thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you over… here? To sit with me, I mean?”

This caused a beam to unfold across Ken’s face, and he leaned back in the chair, perching his chin up so as to look professional. “Can I tell you the truth?”

“Well. Yes, I’d like that.”

“I saw you here last week. On – what’s the one that starts with an ‘F’?” Ken screwed his eyes shut, scanning his brain meticulously for a piece of very common, everyday information.

This is a bizarre way to flirt with someone for the first time, you thought to yourself, bewilderment sinking into your gut as you helpfully offered, “Friday?”

“Yes! That’s it. Friday,” He uttered to himself and dropped his eyes, seemingly making a mental note. “So, I saw you here Friday. You were getting a book from right over there.” Ken pointed to the magazine rack nestled against the front desk that you once in awhile perused when the weekend approached, for lack of anything better to do at home.

You had checked out a magazine last Friday, in fact, after you clocked out for the day and packed up your things. It wasn’t anything special, just a stupid crossword puzzle collection with a recipe for a quiche you wanted to try making.

“You saw me on Friday and didn’t say anything?”

“Exactly. You got the magazine, and then you walked home, and I didn’t know what to say because you were already inside. So then I walked back here – the library – and waited in case you came back. But that rude lady up there told me they were closing at nine, so I had to leave. Actually, she told me a little more than that. She said that I couldn’t loiter, whatever that is, but I was free to check out a book, so I asked her what book you had just gotten. But she didn’t want to tell me that for some reason.”

Ken recounted this like he was describing the weather with a colleague, just simple, redundant water cooler talk. Your jaw hung open in disbelief. Was he being serious? You’d finished work at four thirty. He sat here, allegedly for hours until it closed?

He’d followed you home?

Before you could interject with a dozen questions flying through your mind, Ken continued.

“Anyway, I thought about walking back to your house – and you have a big house, by the way! I had a feeling you would. You seem like a very successful lady. That’s why I had to meet you. Successful, captivating, beautiful, I couldn’t just go all the way back to Barbieland after I saw you!”

Had he mistook your apartment complex to be something you owned? And – what did he just say?

“Go back. To Barbieland.” You stated, smile faltering quicker than Ken managed to absolutely stun you with his fanatical tale.

“Right? I knew you would understand. I just knew you would, (Y/N)! Not to mention how long it took me to get here in the first place. So after security kicked me out –”

“Hold on, I’m sorry. I just… Ken?”

“Yes, my dove?” Ken’s taken to periodically toying with his jacket in positions that display his pronounced biceps. It’s endearing. It’s distracting. He’s stiflingly mesmerizing.

“Okay. Can we back up for a moment?”

Ken’s wide eyes regard you with infinite patience, wisps of his almost silver-like bangs falling against his brow bone. You remember that it’s only noon, and you’re still technically on the clock. In fact, your supervisor is almost certainly trying to get ahold of you for his midday rounds, checking on your team’s progress for the day.

“Ask me anything you want. I am an open book. Especially for you.” He enunciates each syllable, adoring eyes raking over you again, and it’s beginning to feel a bit too much – and there’s a lot more information you need to derive from Ken before you can backpedal to… introductions and amicable conversation. (Not to mention the curling heat that’s pooling in your lower abdomen the more Ken devours you visually. He may have just dropped a bomb on you, yes, but he’s… well. He’s bewitching, alluring in a fashion that’s barely comprehensible.)

“Right. Here’s where I’m at. With all of this. I am very flattered by you, and your… dedication to finding me.”

Ken’s grin overtakes his face, eye lines wrinkling with complete satisfaction. You almost forget your next words, forget to draw a line in the sand with this (gorgeous) stranger who’s just admitted to essentially stalking you.

But somehow, the pit in your stomach ceases its knotting when you meet his honest cobalt eyes. Not a hint of malice behind them, not a shred of ill intention. Not for the first time since you’d met Ken, you’re astounded that with any other man this behavior would scare you, probably compel you to call the police, even. Maybe you’d misjudged him.

He forgot the word for Friday, for Christ’s sake.

But then there was this talk about traveling a long way to come here… about Barbie? This didn’t sit right with you, and the concept that Ken might be mentally unwell dawned on you, though he seemed coherent and relatively well spoken. Just a half hour ago you’d been toiling away with spreadsheets, and now you were silently cataloging all psychiatric facilities within a ten mile radius, wondering if a man of average height and average build could walk that far on a sweltering hot day. And still look, for lack of a better word, perfect.

As you sat agonizing over the right words to say, Ken merely watched with his hands in his lap, boot tapping against his knee with no discernible rhythm. Patient with an emotion akin to devotion swimming through his watchful gaze.

“Ken… where are you staying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where have you been staying while you’ve been in town? Do you live around here?”

Ken smirked again, leaned in close to you, resting his elbows on your work laptop. “There’s that humor I like about you. Silly girl. I already told you, I live in Barbieland. It takes me seven hours to get here!”

“Okay. Right. So, let’s try this. Friday when I went home and you came back here. You remember that?”

“Uh huh,” Ken bobbed his head with sincerity, unfazed by this line of questioning, not picking up on how perturbed you’d grown.

“Where did you sleep that night? Do you know anyone here?”

Ken took his bottom lip in between his teeth, thoughtfully chewed on it. “Besides you, I don’t think so. The book lady who kicked me out doesn’t count as knowing someone. Right?”

“...Probably not. So where did you sleep?” You didn’t have the heart to tell Ken he didn’t really know you.

“I didn’t.”

“Sleep. You didn’t sleep?”

“No one’s asked me that before. I don’t really… get tired.” This confession strikes you as highly strange.

Your head began to feel fuzzy, and you guessed it wasn’t from skipping breakfast this morning. At least the sweat on your back had finally dried, and you inhaled deeply, trying not to startle Ken with your obvious worries.

“How about we do this. As you can see, I’m working right now,” you open your hand towards your long forgotten computer. “Well, I was working. And I’m not done for a few hours. But I think that we need to sit and talk about… everything. That you’ve told me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here with you until you’re done! Look – I wanted to show you this. I even got a book before you got here.” Ken seems excited to share, so you purse your lips, watch him as he procures a book from underneath his chair.

Ken holds out and frames a well worn paperback titled “Misty of Chincoteague”, frayed at the edges and featuring a wistful painting of a horse on the cover. For some reason, this childlike display of wonder touches you, and against all reason you’d ever acquired throughout your life, something nags at your conscience to trust this strange man – something tells you, like a mantra beating in time with your heart, that this man is not a threat to you, he is not going to hurt you.

“Are you a horse lover?”

“I’m more of a horse admirer… they intrigue me,” Ken quips, scanning your face again to see how you’re reacting to him. He seems to be at once keenly self aware and simultaneously oblivious to how he sounds – how he’s received by others. This man is a conundrum, made up of so many conflicting personality traits and mannerisms that don’t belong together but mesh nonetheless.

And, you tell yourself, you’re still giving him your undivided attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Really?” Ken’s act of unbothered macho-man seems to slip slightly as his eyes bulge, intently seeking for validation, wanting to hear you talk more about him, your impression of him so far. Maybe this is the way to get more information out of him, you realize, so you humor him.

“Not at all, Ken. Tell you what – why don’t you come back with me to my ap… my house, and you can tell me more about the things you like? Would you like that?”

In the minutes since you’d begun talking to him, Ken shone brighter than ever, practically buzzing with enthusiasm, gilded with a golden halo from the unrepentant sun as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Perfect. You lead the way, I’m ready whenever you are!”

#ken #barbie movie #ryan gosling #ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ken x fem reader #ken barbie #female reader

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azureseacloud · 5 months

Text

Stage Lights

Ghost (Band)

Part 6

Swiss x Reader

Words: 2,110

Warnings: swearing

Well here it is, the final part!! I was trying to keep it around the same word count as the other parts but I kinda went way past that :)

I really hope you guys like it, I’m worried it gets a bit clunky at the start but I’ve rewritten that part like five times already (one of the reasons it took so long to post) and I don’t know if I’m just overthinking it so anywayyy

I’ll be working on a Christmas request next and Hidden Messages :)

Swiss was very much not over it.

It had been three days now, and he hadn’t said anything to you. He’d been avoiding you—not that you had been seeking him out. If he wasn’t going to talk, then you weren’t either.

Except that wasn’t up to you. Copia had pulled you aside yesterday, asking you to fix your issues with the multi ghoul before the next ritual. It was now half an hour before going on stage, and you were debating just how mad Copia would be if you didn’t.

Pacing around your room, that bubble of guilt rose up inside you as your thoughts turned back to Swiss. He hadn’t been his normal self, and you were worried about him. Even without Papa’s interference, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go on stage without at least trying to get things back to normal with Swiss.

The unresolved tension was grating on you to the point that you couldn’t ignore it. Just like how you could no longer ignore the fact that you really fucking cared about Swiss.

But by Satan, he sure had a way of pissing you off.

Flipping on your helmet so you were ready for the show, you made your way out into the corridor and down towards Swiss’s dressing room.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you knocked at the door, knowing full well that Swiss would have already sensed your presence. If he didn’t answer then you could at least tell Copia you tried.

He’s head over heels for you.

You pushed Aurora’s words out of your mind. You were only making things up with Swiss, not confessing anything. That was if he even opened—

The door swung open, revealing the multi ghoul, also fully dressed and ready for the ritual.

“Hey Swiss,” you greeted tentatively.

“Hey,” he said back, his voice friendly.

That was a good sign. He hadn’t slammed the door on you either—this was going a lot better than how you had imagined.

“Copia told me he doesn’t want us fighting during a ritual. And I’ve been worried about you Swiss,” you said the last part softly. As much as you wanted to be mad at him for the past three days, you found yourself missing him. Even his relentless teasing.

“Yeah, Copia said the same to me. I was just about to go see you.” Swiss braced one hand against the doorway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you after the ritual. What you and Dew did—I wasn’t expecting that.” He smiled sheepishly at the last part.

Relief surged through you at his words and you offered him a small smile back.

“I’m sorry too, for what we did, and for what I said after.”

Swiss shook his head. “It’s okay. I know it was Dew’s idea, he knew exactly what he was doing. I should’ve taken it out on him, not you.”

“Then you guys should probably sort your shit out too.”

“Already done.” Swiss smiled smugly. “If Aurora wasn’t there then he might have gotten more than just a black eye.”

You huffed a laugh. That explained the scratches on one of his forearms. Dew must have left those on him during their fight. You were almost disappointed you missed it.

“I take it Aurora broke you two up?” Though she was tiny compared to the other ghouls, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be intimidating when she needed to be.

Swiss nodded. “She practically dragged me off Dewdrop. Also helped clear some other things up as well.” He grimaced at that, pulling at his vest.

You tilted your head quizzically, wondering what had needed clearing up. He caught your look, sighing as an embarrassed smile crept across his face.

“I may have thought that you and Dewdrop...” he trailed off.

You frowned, before your mouth fell open.

“You thought Dew and I were—really Swiss?” Unholy shit he could not be serious right now.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You two put on a pretty good performance. The little dickhead wouldn’t let go of you last night.”

“You’ve literally groped Dewdrop on stage,” you said, crossing your arms. “And I saw you kiss Phantom last month as well. To think I didn’t believe Dew when he said you would get jealous.”

Swiss sighed exasperatedly. “So he told me. You really thought all I wanted was the spotlight?” He mimed a hurt expression pressing a hand to his chest. How much had that fire ghoul told him?

“Yeah well apparently I’m the only one who didn’t realise you liked me,” you countered.

Swiss huffed, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face.

“Why are you smiling?”

“You know, Dewdrop and Aurora also told me something very interesting earlier today,” he said cryptically. You shifted a foot as he stared you down.

Oh fuck.

“Yeah?” You answered hesitantly, mentally cursing the traitorous ghoul and ghoulette. Of course Dew would. He’d been trying to get you to make up with Swiss since the ritual—or as he put it, “fuck and make up”. The short bastard had obviously thrown you under the bus after their little fight.

“When were you going to tell me you liked me?” Swiss asked smugly, folding his arms and taking a step forward that left the two of you almost touching.

“I don’t like you, actually. In fact, I fucking hate you,” you replied, but your voice had smoothed to a teasing lilt.

He made a disbelieving noise, and you glanced up defiantly at him. But your resolve was fading, and you knew that even your denial was not as strong as it usually was. You wanted him to know. Because you really did have feelings for Swiss. And a part of you had sorely missed his stupid smile and his teasing comments over the past few days.

He smiled and your eyes darted to his mouth as a wave of heat washed over your body. The two of you were still in the doorway—and here you were, thinking about kissing Swiss.

He slid his hand to the small of your back, heat flaring from the contact. You bit back a gasp, knowing he was very aware of how you were feeling right now, just as you could sense that he was very interested. You listened to his heartbeat as it raced, matching in time with yours.

“When I saw you on stage with Dewdrop,” Swiss murmured, his breath on your ear. “I wanted that to be me. I wanted to be the one that was holding you. I wanted to kiss you the way he did.”

Your breath caught and a pulse of desire hit you. Fuck it.

“Then do it,” you challenged, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “Kiss me.”

Swiss stilled momentarily, as if taking a moment to register your words. Then his hand ran across the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his.

The kiss was hungry, the two of you pushing against each other, still fighting even now. One of your hands dipped to his vest, pushing him back into his room as you kicked the door shut with your boot. You kept going until he was against a wall as he pulled you closer by the hips.

You growled as your helmets knocked together uncomfortably, and without breaking the kiss you reached up and pushed his off, as he did the same to you.

Relinquishing your grip on his vest, you traced your hand up to his beautiful horns, running your fingers along them as Swiss gasped into your mouth.

He used his grip on your hips to spin you around until your lower back was pressed against the dressing table. He lifted you up, letting you sit atop it, moving to stand in between your legs.

You broke the kiss, taking in his wide pupils as he panted, lips parted in a way that set you on fire.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you whispered, watching him smile devilishly. He squeezed your thighs in his hands, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

“Is that so?” He whispered softly, a mischievous humour in his voice. “I thought you hated me?”

You huffed, dragging him back in for another kiss and locking your legs around his waist. The kiss was feverish, the two of you pressing as close as you could, as if you were trying to devour each other. His fingers stroked along your thighs as yours ran along his chest, fumbling with the buckles of his vest. You managed to get one off, moving on to the next one.

Swiss moved his mouth along your jaw, pressing kisses as he worked his way toward your throat. You tilted your head, giving him better access as he sucked and nipped at the skin.

“Fuck, Swiss.” You murmured blissfully, closing your eyes as a quiet purr built in your chest. Swiss smiled against your skin. He left a trail of kisses and bites along your neck, while you struggled to undo his buckles. Shivers were running down your spine at the mesmerising feeling of his lips on your skin.

“Having trouble?” He teased, looking down to where you had only just managed to undo his second buckle.

“No, I’m not,” you answered, flicking open the next one to prove your point. “It’s just harder when you’re distracting me.”

“Oh, like this?” He kissed along the other side of your neck, sucking hickeys and leaving bites. You tried to focus on your fingers and what they were doing but it was a losing battle. Since when was it this hard to undo a vest?

“Prick,” you mumbled, and you felt his chest shake with a silent laugh. His hands reached up to caress your own horns, sending shivers down your skin at the blissful feeling.

“Hey Swiss? We’re about to go on stage and Copia says—oh.” You look over Swiss’s shoulder as he pauses on your neck.

Phantom stands still in the doorway, helmet clutched in one hand and eyes wide as he takes in the two of you.

“Fuck off Phantom,” you say as you see the smirk growing on his face, Swiss laughing as he looks back at the quintessence ghoul.

Phantom points at his wrist. “You guys have three minutes to, uh, finish up whatever this is.” He shot you two a wink as he closed the door.

“He’s going to tell everyone isn’t he?”

Swiss laughed again, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “Of course he is. Which is good, because at least everyone will know you’re mine.”

You snorted, pulling his lips to yours in another bruising kiss. “I’m yours, huh?”

Swiss purred in response, kissing you back. You went to reach for his vest again but he stopped you.

“I don’t want to stop, but we should probably go,” he murmured against your lips. You sighed, eliciting a satisfied smirk from the multi ghoul.

He began to move away but you slipped a finger into one of the belt loops of his pants, pulling him back.

“There’s something I have to do first,” you whispered slyly. You moved your hand into his hair, tugging his head to the side as you pressed your teeth against the side of his neck. Swiss groaned, hands grabbing your thighs as you bit down.

Leaning back, you admired the indents of your teeth on his neck. You slid your hand to caress his cheek gently, Swiss’s eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“Payback’s a bitch,” you said, drawing a laugh out of the multi ghoul.

His hands were gliding up to your hips and then he was lifting you down from the counter.

“So, did you want to annoy Dewdrop tonight?” Swiss asked slyly, fixing up the buttons that you had managed to undo.

“I think it’s only fair that we wipe that smug attitude off. And you know how upset he gets when he screws up a solo.”

You grinned devilishly, already thinking of all the ways you could make Dew falter on stage. Being his best friend did have its perks. He should have thought of that before he went running to Swiss, even if it had gotten you the best make out session you’d had since you were summoned from the pit.

“Absolutely.” You kissed him again, handing him his helmet. “He’s about to have the worst ritual of his life.”

“Sounds like a perfect date,” Swiss said, slipping his hand into yours.

You smiled back. This was going to be a good night.

Well, not for Dew.

#ghost band #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #nameless ghouls x reader #dewdrop ghost #swiss ghost

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home Arlie Mae (Little Duck au)

pairing: chris evans x wife reader (momma e)

summary: you’ve finally been cleared to bring arlie mae home, and you and chris couldn’t be happier

warnings: slight mention of post partum struggles, but mostly just very sweet goodness

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write this for a while and i hope you guys enjoy this💜

Today was the day you and Chris had been waiting for since you’d found out you were expecting your first child together. After 30 hours in labour followed by four days in the hospital, you were finally bringing home your little baby girl Arlie Mae Evans. She was quite tiny weighing in at five pounds three ounces, part of the reason you’d spent a few extra days in the maternity ward. Despite your reassurance to Chris telling him he could go home to sleep in your own bed, he declined, stating he was much happier here with his girls. Lisa and your mom had been amazing, getting the house ready for your arrival, meals prepped and ready so you wouldn’t have to worry about cooking, Lisa had even taken Dodger back to her house for a few days to let you three get settled and accommodated to your new lives with a little baby.

Arlie truly lit up Chris’s entire life from the moment she was born, to watching her breastfeed for the first time, and now as he watched you tuck her gently into her car seat, a soft beige blanket over her as it was the beginning of April, and it was still a bit cold out. You were definitely still in some pain, and you knew it would be a few months before you were feeling back to normal and like yourself, truth be told you were willing to go through all the highs and lows because of how special your little girl was to you already.

“Alright, you ready to go momma?”

Smiling you nodded, reaching over to grab the baby and hospital bag you’d packed, Chris was quick to interject

“I’ve got it honey”

You watched as he slung it over his shoulder before picking Arlie up with his free hand and reaching for your hand with his other

“Thank you my love”

“No need to be thanking me y/n, I should be thanking you for bringing our girl into our lives”

You felt your cheeks flush at the sentiment before walking with Chris towards the exit and to find your car in the parking lot. Arlie stayed fast asleep the whole time, you had read that newborns tend to sleep a lot and eat a lot, so you figured she’d stay sleeping until you arrived home, or at least you hoped.

Once you found your SUV, Chris made quick work of putting the bags in the front passenger seat, handing you the car seat with Arlie for a few moments before taking her from you and making sure she was clicked safely into the base that sat tethered in the backseat. Chris had made sure to order the top of the line for everything when it came to Arlie, even getting it professionally installed so he knew she would be extra safe.

“I can’t believe we’re going home as a family of three now…”

Chris looked back and sent a smile your way before he got out of the back to press a kiss to your forehead

“Me either, it still feels like a dream to me”

Nodding in agreement he helped you into the backseat so you could take your place beside Arlie, he helped buckle you in too before closing the door and getting into the car. Glancing back once more at the two of you in the backseat, he started the car and took off towards home, only this time like you said, you were going home as a family of three.

The house smelt like spring, fresh flowers placed neatly around your space, some being gifts from friends and family, you never failed to feel spoiled with all the love and warmth both of your families provided for each other. For the first few months the very gorgeous nursery you and Chris spent months on would remain empty until Arlie was old enough to sleep on her own. She’d sleep in the bassinet you’d bought to sit right next to your side of the bed, making it easier for feedings and keeping an eye on her.

As soon as you’d gotten home Chris wanted to show her around, which let you get settled on the couch, leaning back into the soft cushions which after laying in a stiff hospital mattress, felt like lounging on a cloud

“Here is the kitchen, where daddy and momma are gonna make you lots of yummy food and snacks…you can have whatever you want princess”

Listening to Chris as he walked around with Arlie tucked into his arms bringing a smile to your face, you could hear him taking her throughout your home to show her around, even if she was too little to really know what was going on at all

“This is the living room, we have lots of comfy spots for you baby, and oh look, there’s momma over there, she’s so beautiful”

Arlie squirmed slightly and let out a little noise, Chris smiling down at her and you swore to yourself you’d never seen him more in his element than he was right now

“You excited to see momma?”

She made a little whimper before slowly waking up and you knew she was getting hungry

“I think she’s excited to see my boobs babe...”

Chris laughed shaking his head before bringing her over to you, waiting until your shirt was pulled up enough before giving Arlie to you, who was quick to latch on and start eating. She had no problems latching or eating from the moment she was born, but you knew you’d probably opt to bottle feed and breastfeed to give Chris an option to feed her, as well as any family or friends that would come over.

You smoothed a finger along her head gently watching as she ate quietly, you couldn’t believe how perfect she was, and how 9 months of waiting could bring you so much joy. It was no secret that both you and Chris were extremely happy in this moment, you weren’t ignoring your doctors notes about postpartum depression and other postpartum hormone drops, Chris was more than prepared to step in and help when needed, and you knew the signs to look out for. For now, though, in this moment you just wanted to stay right where you were, with your little girl, and with your favourite man in the entire world, you had all you could ever want and more right in front of you, and it was a memory you were forever going to cherish.

"I love you both so much, thank you for bringing Arlie into our family"

Leaning your head onto his shoulder, careful not to disturb the newborn as she ate you peered up at him, eyes filled with nothing but adoration

"Thank you for supporting us every step of the way, we're very lucky to have you baby, we love you so much"

A kiss being pressed to your lips was enough to seal the moment you two shared, and knowing there would be many more where that came from, you hoped these little milestones and Arlie memories would stay within your mind for as long as you both were around.

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monstersandmaw · 2 years

Text

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Six (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Note the rating change please. 18 + only.

Content: a bit more lore, some angst, some fluff, and some wet and messy alien sex :) Wordcount: 6027

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw, Part Five (sfw)

___

The atmosphere in the camp became charged after that in a way it hadn’t been before, and you felt a little nauseous. That probably had less to do with not having eaten in hours, and more to do with the fact that Croc was staring at you as if he’d just had an epiphany of the very worst kind. Perhaps the significance of Red showing you his face went deeper than you’d first thought. Perhaps Croc had never expected him to do it, but whatever the reason, the usually jovial and lighthearted alien was behaving like someone had just walked over his grave.

Red had disappeared inside the ship again, and you couldn’t help feeling like you’d put a foot wrong in the dark somewhere, stumbling and falling and still waiting to hit the ground. It didn’t help that there was a near-constant churning in your gut anyway about the fact that only the next day you were going to have to leave, and you would probably never see either of them again.

After busying yourself with digging out the last sachet of dehydrated macaroni cheese from your pack for supper, you boiled some water on the healthy little campfire, and ate alone while the two remaining squad-mates finished preparing for the arrival of their rescue party in absolute silence. The bickering had ceased, and they stacked the boxes without making a sound. It was eerie and you truly felt like an intruder for the first time since Red had charged at you out of the trees.

With the final day looming over you on the coming dawn, you still wanted to ask them a few more questions about their home worlds and their species, and their hunt across the universe that had led them to Earth, but you weren’t sure how to broach the topic now.

Luckily, as dark fell and they joined you beside the warmth and light of the fire, they began to talk about it without prompting, and the conversation flowed quietly, if not always smoothly, while they ate their own rations.

When you’d all finished eating, Big Red leaned over and removed his mask again, and he held it out to you. In the firelight, Red’s colouring looked all the more dramatic, and his mandibles clicked at you into a shy little smile which you returned as you took the mask from him and let your fingers play absently around the smooth rim where metal met bone. Croc watched the exchange intently, looking from his friend’s face to yours and back again, and for once, Big Red’s behaviour went completely without commentary.

Over the next few hours, they showed you more clips of their capital city on Prime and of the training barracks where they’d met as younglings. You were also shown clips of their third, fallen team-mate and your heart ached for them, wishing you could have met him too.

Carefully, you asked about the kinds of things they normally ate, and even what their music was like, and they showed you a steady stream of information that began to make your head spin after a while.

You also saw what the environments of their birthplaces and the nearby cities were like, ranging from Croc’s wild, jungle home in the treetops, lush as the deepest remaining areas of the Amazon on Earth, to the vast, multi-level mega-city that formed the capital of Secundus, where most of the population of the planet lived in a sprawling metropolis that covered an entire third of the planet’s surface. Only Big Red’s traditionalist clan chose to exist out in the middle of nowhere in the harsh, gritty sands of the far-reaching deserts.

After that, he showed you the various beasts that lived in the dunes and rocky outcrops: lizards the size of elephants that spewed acid like a fire hose when threatened; winged reptiles like pterodactyls that soared on the desert thermals for miles at a time without flapping a wing; tiny, adorable, fluffy creatures that looked like hamsters but had three eyes and long beaks; a horrific, black, eldtrich-looking creature that actually turned out to be an entire colony of smaller insects all intertwined that made you want to be sick just thinking about it; and a terrifying sand worm the size of a London Underground train with a mouth like a tunnel-boring machine, but which was apparently very docile and only ate the flowers of one particular, cactus-like plant.

You could see why Croc had called Big Red’s kind ‘tough’ though. Simply to exist out there, they had to be virtually un-killable to begin with.

“Why do you think Croc has to wear so much armour normally?” Big Red grinned when you said as much. You took the opportunity to remove the mask again for the time being and hold it in your lap to give yourself a break from the relentless stream of images and information. He didn’t ask for it back. He didn’t look directly at you most of the time either, and you wondered how bad his eyesight really was, but you felt his full attention on you nonetheless.

“I just thought you were an exhibitionist, Red” you quipped back, and Croc finally cracked a wide-mawed smile. In fact, you’d only seen Croc with a single pauldron on in addition to the armoured ‘loincloth’ that they both wore, but you weren’t about to argue.

“Oh, there’s lots of stuff that wants to kill us in the jungle too,” Croc assured you with a wicked glint in his eyes, and Red groaned, apparently knowing where this was leading already. “Remember when you stayed with my clan and ate that —” he cut off into a series of clicks for a fruit that apparently didn’t have a direct translation “— and your neck and face swelled up like a weather balloon for a week?”

You didn’t mean to laugh, but it snuck out anyway, and Big Red just shook his head. “Never going to let me forget that, are you?” he muttered. “That was the last time I ever ate something that you gave me without knowing what it was first.”

Croc nearly fell off his crate from laughing as he tried to describe Red’s swollen face to you with his little mandibles poking out of it, so Red kindly helped him along by simply reaching over and shoving him in the centre of his chest.

Croc landed flat on his back in the dirt with his legs in the air, still laughing like a drain, and you felt the odd tension of the day finally pop and shatter. Still miming a head like a beach ball at you and chortling, Croc picked himself up again and resumed his seat.

Red sighed though and turned more serious again as he looked around at the silhouettes of the pine trees against the clear night sky. “Are your people sending soldiers here for us?” he asked. “Do they know we crashed?” Despite the sudden moment of jollity, he was obviously still in the mindset of ‘ship’s captain’; responsible for Croc’s safety and the integrity of his tattered mission, and he must have felt vulnerable, grounded on a strange planet with no real defences.

You shook your head. “Not yet. At least, not that they told me,” you amended, just in case. They were unlikely to send anyone — given the reams of forms you’d signed agreeing to go out alone, unsupported, with no guarantee of rescue and with every chance you might never return. Quite what the fuck you’d been thinking at the time was still a marvel to you, but it was a gamble that had paid off against all odds. They must have been rubbing their hands together with glee when an untrained linguist had signed away a comfortable life in the archives to go bushwhacking for them in search of aliens, but you weren’t ashamed to admit that the financial rewards had definitely been the deciding factor at the time.

Although Big Red relaxed a fraction, you still suspected that the two of them would continue to keep watch in shifts that night.

“They sent me first because I’m not exactly a threat to you, and they wanted to learn about you. So far, your kind has only shot when shot at first, so…” They both picked up the subtext that sending in someone non-threatening had been the plan all along, and they nodded. “You’ve managed to learn so much about us when we still know next to nothing about you. They’ll probably send a team here once I get back to investigate and salvage, but —”

“—there will be nothing to find but a crater,” Croc grinned. “Our commander will obliterate what we cannot take with us.”

Your eyes went wide at that, but it did make sense. “Fair enough. Are they still on course to get here tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Big Red said. “They will arrive around sunset.”

You intended to be well on your way by then, but the thought of leaving these two physically hurt, like something inside you was shearing off. “How many are coming for you?”

“Another team like us,” Red said. “Three. They were on their way to make a study of your southern hemisphere to look for locations that the enemy may be hiding in, but they have been diverted to collect us first.”

Croc said something to Big Red in their language, and you got the feeling they were a bit dejected.

You looked from one to the other of them for a moment. “Are you guys… in trouble?”

Red snorted. “Yes. We shamed ourselves by allowing inferior human weaponry to bring us down. Our commander… she is most displeased.”

She.

You remembered what he’d said about females, and your next question just bubbled out of you. “Red, show me what the females of your species look like?”

Croc crowed out a laugh and elbowed Red in the ribs. He then took Red’s mask from your hands and planted it straight onto your face like it was a custard pie before you could do so much as blink.

“Assho—” you began without sting, but never got to finish the insult.

A second later, the helmet sent a new signal directly to your brain, and it created the illusion of standing at the intersection of an alien building complex, or perhaps a ship, with dark walls, dim white lighting, and a shiny black floor. It took you a couple of seconds to register that you were actually also staring up at a creature that was perhaps nine or ten feet tall.

She looked more like Croc than Red, with the same greenish-brown and cream colouring and spines across her face and around her eyes, but she was… massive. She wore a solid chest plate which seemed to be composed of the same dark metal as the inside of Red’s mask, and the same kind of armoured loincloth that Big Red and Croc both wore, with additional, articulated tassets over her hips and muscular thighs. She had a high, flaring crest that was a bit like a triceratops’ where Croc’s was much smaller, and she also bore an array of wave-like spikes that rippled back over her entire skull almost like flames where Croc’s head was largely smooth save for the dark, needle-like spines. Her shiny, greenish-black ‘dreads’ were each as thick as your forearm and fell to the middle of her back.

Her skin was a mottled cream and olive green, and her mouth stretched wide with scorn as she regarded the camera that had recorded the footage, presumably worn by Big Red at the time. Around her pale throat was wrapped a kind of decorated metal gorget — something between a cuff necklace and a piece of armour — and she had wide, metal bands around her ‘dreads’ in the same, ribbed style as the neck-piece.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, and then Croc himself came into the background of the shot. It was strange to see him with two arms, and he had none of the easy, jocund swagger to which you had grown accustomed over the last couple of days. He was deferential to the female without being obsequious, and he exposed his throat to her before turning to go, presumably at whatever order she had just clicked in his direction. Her voice was deeper than either of theirs, and from what you could see of her arm and thigh muscles around her armour, she was probably strong enough and powerful enough to crush Red’s skull with one hand.

Croc left the shot, but Big Red didn’t seem in a hurry to change what he was showing you, so you sat there and let it play out.

Another male with a mottled brown and cream pattern approached her and her whole demeanour changed.

She went from almost aggressively tense to something soft and doting, and she crooned quietly as the unknown male came to a halt in front of her and bowed his head. She lowered hers to touch the crowns of their sloping skulls together. She then stroked the palm of her massive, clawed hand affectionately down his thick mane of ‘dreads’ and he shivered openly and purred. He raised his face a little and they kissed their mandibles together. You’d witnessed Croc and Red do that briefly, but this had a lingering intimacy that their exchange had not.

“That,” came Red’s voice from somewhere beyond the vision, “Is a mated pair.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

When he’d talked about a bond, you hadn’t thought too much more about it, but it was obvious that there was something tangibly different between these two.

Before you could watch any more, you began to feel a little strange from the way the mask was interacting directly with your brain, and Croc chittered something to his friend. Red crooned, and then removed the mask gently from your face to set it back over his own. “Enough for tonight,” he said quietly.

A moment later, you yawned, and Croc did the same.

Amused by the fact that the vast physical differences between your two species did not apparently extend to yawns being contagious, you both grinned, and you made to stand up. Exhaustion from the strain of a four day hike and the stress of finding their ship crashed and Croc injured, and subsequently learning more about them in two days than any human had discovered in five years, as well as using the mask for so long, all washed over you and you swayed on your feet, the world blurring.

Big Red, still seated beside the fire, caught you reflexively with a firm hand to your lower back and you looked down at him, smiling. He did not remove his hand for a long moment.

“Thanks.”

Croc clicked something at him, and he nodded in acknowledgement before turning to look up at you again. “You may sleep in my quarters again if it is more comfortable than your tent,” he said. “I’ll take first watch, but I will join you later, if I may.”

You blinked. “You’re offering me your room again and then asking if it’s ok to share it? It’s your room, Red.”

“But you may use it, and I do not have to be there.”

“No, I’d… I’d like it if you joined me when your shift on watch is done.”

Croc sighed. “Goodnight,” he said, and then added something a little sterner to Big Red, who exhaled and nodded, but otherwise didn’t reply.

With a frown at the odd, terse interaction, you went to fetch your stuff from your tent.

When you returned, Big Red rose from his little crate and said, “I will help you into the room. If you need to get out, you should be able to pull on the doors, but you might want to leave a box between them to keep them open, just in case.”

You agreed heartily, not wanting to get trapped alone in a small metal box with no way out until one of them came for you.

You stared appreciatively at his body as he hauled the metal door up and let you step through. Once you were inside, he shunted a nearby metal crate into the open maw with his foot to keep the doors from falling shut again. “It is… not too cold for you like this?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. I can use my sleeping bag like an extra blanket. Thank you, Red. I’ll see you later.”

“I will try not to wake you,” he said, and stalked off into the night without another word.

Hours later, you woke as the blanket and sleeping bag atop you were both lifted up and Red slid in beside you. This time you felt no fear or fleeting panic on waking.

Big Red set his mask down on the floor beside the mattress with a soft clunk and pulled up the covers again. With a deep, satisfied rumble, he slotted into place around your back like you’d been made to fit together, and he pulled you close against his chest in a single tug of his left hand.

His mandibles brushed the crown of your head as he spoke quietly to you in the pitch dark. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured and adjusted the sleeping bag up around your neck to keep the warmth in.

“Why do you need to keep watch?” you asked sleepily. “What are you afraid of? Surely not humans…”

“Humans and animals may present a nuisance,” he said, “But it is the enemy we watch for.”

A frisson of fear shot through you like a bolt of electricity and you jerked your head up. It was only his quick reactions that kept him from getting headbutted in his delicate mandibles. “You mean… They’re out here?”

“They… have a habit of finding us. They enjoy the hunt.” He crooned and purred softly, and the sound of it calmed your heartbeat just a fraction. “But Croc is on watch now,£ he said with another nuzzle against your head, “And we have seen no sign of them since we got here. We will keep you safe. Go back to sleep.”

“Right,” you exhaled weakly, and tried to settle while your imagination insisted on conjuring images of that black carapace slinking between tall pine trees somewhere in the valley below or along the ridge line above the crash site, and you heard again the rabid snarl that had accompanied the footage.

Sleep was reluctant to take you that night, and you lay there a long time with Red’s steady, slightly wheezy breath fanning across your ear and the weight of his arm around your waist.

“You are troubled,” he said after the silence had stretched.

You sighed. “I… I don’t want to go tomorrow, I guess,” you mumbled, and tilted your head down a little to let your lips brush against the hard, smooth skin of his bicep beneath your cheek. He returned the gesture with a delicate touch of his mandibles against your hair. He seemed to like raking the tusks at the end of them across your scalp, though you couldn't imagine that a mouthful of hair was any fun.

His fingers splayed wide across your stomach and he rumbled a long, low-frequency moan behind you.

“Red?”

“Yes?”

“What is it?”

“I… I have grown… attached to you,” he admitted with obvious reluctance.

You smiled and something inside you ached again. “Is that what Croc was warning you about earlier?”

Big Red nodded. “Yes. He is right, but I do not… I do not wish to part with you tomorrow.”

You turned within the confines of his embrace to face him and skimmed your hand up his chest, over his textured throat, and up to his mandibles which were now flexed wide. A little line of drool caught your fingertip and you used it to skate delicately over the thin membrane between his mandibles. He let out another low-frequency rumble that you felt in your chest, and his torso heaved. He rolled completely onto his back and let you explore his face in the dark.

“Are these sensitive?” you asked as you traced your fingertip along his top right mandible, along to the wickedly sharp little tusk at the tip, testing the point with the pad of your finger until it almost broke the skin, and then down the stretching membrane to the lower one that twitched and quivered beneath your touch.

“Yes,” he gasped.

“Very?”

“Very.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Then, still lying on your left side, facing him, you ran the fingertips of your right hand carefully up between his eyes, over all those fascinating ripples and ridges, around his deep eye sockets, and then over his elongated skull to the ridge that protected the roots of his ‘dreads’. Gingerly, knowing they were sensitive as well, you gathered a small handful of them together in your fingers and then, recalling how the mated pair had interacted, slid your hand down the entire length of the ‘braids’ from root to tip.

Red reacted beautifully.

He arched his back right off the mattress, hissed, let out a long series of rapid-fire clicks that dissolved into a gutteral growl, and then collapsed back down, panting. He gasped your name and fumbled for you with his right hand. His claws caught your thigh and you hummed as he gripped you desperately hard, as if he needed somewhere to anchor himself.

“Show me how to make you feel good, Red,” you breathed. “Show me.”

He paused, and then reached out to his other side with his left hand. A second later, the dim, blueish light of the lantern flared to life and cast his incredible body into stark relief. He shoved back the covers and kicked them off. In the small, warm, sheltered space of his quarters, you didn’t need them. He unclipped the armoured loincloth and lifted his hips enough to discard it, revealing that his body below was ridged like sections of cooling lava all the way down between his legs, with a slight mound which you took to be a sheath of some kind.

“Here,” he said, and took your hand as you sat upright on your left hip to get a better look at him, propping your weight on your left hand. He guided your touch down between his legs and you let your middle finger run around the vertical seam in his body that was growing more noticeable with each heaving breath he took.

You glanced up at his face and saw that his mandibles were opening and closing slowly, drool just beginning to stretch between the tusks as he got more worked up, and his eyes had rolled shut. You knew he could still see you though through his heat-sensing abilities. While still looking at his face, you dragged your right, middle fingertip along the line of the seam and discovered that it was puffy now, and a little slick. “Like that?” you whispered and he gasped and nodded. “You’re beautiful, Red.”

At that, he bucked again, and your finger slid a little way inside the slit. Red gave a muted bellow and you paused. Beneath your finger you felt the silky, hot walls of his inner sheath clench and contract, and then, swelling as he grew more aroused, you discovered his cock. Ridged, hard, and slick, it began to slide from the protection of the sheath, and the more you teased it, the harder and more desperate he got.

In minutes, he was shaking bodily.

His breath wheezed and rasped, the delicate membrane between his mandibles fluttering when he flexed them. His thighs trembled and his claws raked furrows into the mattress that would never be repaired. He bucked and writhed beneath your touch and then, when you pushed deeper into his sheath and ran forefinger and thumb at the same time around the very base of his cock in a teasing, mirrored motion til you gripped him there at the hot, silky root, he let out a rabid litany of growls and snarls and clicking purrs that went straight to your core.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said again and he keened, head thrown back, thin ‘dreads’ spread out in a wide fan around his head. “And so wet…”

With your left hand, you reached for his ‘dreads’ without withdrawing your right from his sheath, and ran your left hand down the closest section of ‘braids’. Again, Red roared and jerked. With the motion, his cock slipped free of his sheath and bounced against his hard abs, leaking everywhere.

Closing your hand around it again, you gripped him and worked his ridged shaft and he whimpered, curling his torso inwards a little as you swirled your thumb underneath the topmost ridge. A spurt of liquid dribbled from his tip, rolling down over your knuckles, and dripped onto his stomach. “You’re so messy, Red,” you breathed, and then another thought occurred to you. Probably a little late, you asked, “Is this… safe? I mean… given what your blood does to humans…”

He nodded. “It’s only… Only our blood that—” he cut off into another growl and series of clicks.

You tightened your grip and he moaned again, one leg kicking out idly. “Watch those claws,” you warned.

“I’m sorry. This is… It’s so… It’s so much,” he cried.

Looking down at the delicate, pinkish flesh of his swollen, slick sheath, you realised that with the kind of talons and claws his kind had, there was little chance anyone had ever done this to him before, and the sheer intimacy of the gesture struck you to the core.

When you used both hands, one to work his shaft and the other to stimulate the soft walls of his sheath, he almost sat upright. His eyes opened wide in the semi-dark and his mouth flared, and you thought he was going to come, but he didn’t. He rocked back and forth a few times, his cock leaking clear fluid everywhere, and then he slumped back down, panting. It was like you were milking him, and he seemed to love it.

Each time you ran your finger around the base of his cock, he let out a beautiful, musical clicking sound. “I wish I knew what you were saying,” you said after a while. “I wish I could understand you.”

Either he didn’t hear or didn’t want you to know, because he didn’t translate. Perhaps he couldn’t.

You’d never seen yourself as particularly talented in bed. You’d had partners before, and none of them had openly complained to your face or anything, but the way Red was responding to you in waves of incoherent ecstasy was more arousing for you than sex with a human had ever been.

“I want you, Red,” you breathed as your brain finally caught up to what your body was feeling, and your own arousal hit you in a colossal wave.

“Close,” Red said, and you eased off on the pressure on his shaft. The mess he was making had covered his lower abdomen until it glistened, and still more leaked from his sheath. He could slide right inside you, you realised, and the thought sent another white bolt of desire right through you.

You let go of him long enough to undress, with Red helping you out of your top and immediately bringing his mandibles to your bare shoulder. He moaned luxuriantly when he scraped the tips of his tusks across your skin, and you gasped when his forked tongue licked out to taste you. He manoeuvred himself behind you while you knelt, and you felt his cock slide between your legs, slick and hard and beautifully ridged.

“Ohhhh, Red,” you groaned, pitching forwards onto your hands and knees. “Oh god that’s good. Yes… Please…”

“Inside?” he asked and you nodded, reaching back to take hold of his cock and guide him. “Carefully.”

His slick, blunt tip nudged against your entrance and you tensed a little, but he shuddered and gripped you with his clawed hands, holding you still while you adjusted to just that much of him. His tip spurted a little inside you and you pushed back against him. God it felt good.

“Please Red, please…”

He slid a little further in, chittering and crooning and clicking in your ear all the while, an when he pressed you gently down to lie on your stomach, you spread your legs to give him complete access to you.

With the new angle, he adjusted your hips a little with his hands, and then sank slowly, decadently, into you, right the way to the hilt.

As one, you both let out a long groan and just stayed there, breathing steadily while you adjusted to the stretch of his gorgeous cock and he to the heat of your body. He bowed his head forwards over you and kissed a short way down your back, circling his forked tongue over your spine and raking his four, tusked mandibles across your skin until you were shivering and begging him to move.

He picked up your hips in his hands and withdrew almost to the tip before rolling deep into you in a steady, careful movement. His ridges felt delicious against your entrance with every slide in and out, and his tip caught you in just the right place at the apex of each thrust. With every stroke he increased the pace just a little, and as he loomed over you, you felt little spots of drool hit your skin and imagined his mandibles flaring wide with pleasure.

This was it. You’d never be able to have sex with a human again. It felt far too good.

When he found a rhythm that had you both grunting and gasping, he changed the angle a little and you lit up all over with a shout and a curse. “There!” you cried, scrabbling for something to hold onto with your hands as pleasure ripped through you. “Oh fuck, Red, there… like that… just like that… oh god… I’m going to come.”

Red’s rhythm stuttered a little at that, but he picked up the pace again and pounded relentlessly into you. He was quite literally holding your hips up off the mattress like you weighed nothing at all.

“Want to feel you come too, Red,” you choked. “Please…?”

“Close,” he grunted, adding a little extra force to each thrust and making stars burst across your vision in the dark. “I’m going to…” he hissed, barely able to speak around the purring and the clicking coming from his throat. “Now,” he said, and his hips drove into you one final time, right to the hilt so that his pelvis was pressed flush against you while his cock pulsed deep inside you.

With a bellow that made your ears ring, he emptied himself into you.

The convulsions that swept through him knocked you over the edge and you came too beneath him, untouched and twitching and gasping as he continued to fill you. His claws dug into your hips and he held you mercilessly in place while he came and came.

With his cock still twitching inside you and his hips still rocking against yours, he leaned forwards and closed his jaws around the back of your neck. He didn’t break the skin, but you felt his teeth dig into you as well while he held you steady beneath him and rode out the final waves of his colossal orgasm.

You’d never been so full, or felt so needed.

Eventually, Red stilled and slumped atop you, careful not to crush you. His cock was still buried inside you and you both lay there, breathing hard in the dark for a long time. Occasionally his mandibles caressed you, but mostly he just lay there, spent and holding you. When you gave a soft mewl of discomfort, he did move, withdrawing slowly and pausing when you winced a little.

The rush of come that spilled out of you when he finally withdrew all the way was the most obscene thing you’d ever experienced. To your surprise, Red trailed his fingers through it, playing with it as he pushed the flat of his thumb against your entrance, apparently fascinated by the sight of his come on your skin.

“Gonna need to clean up,” you mumbled, rolling over and gasping at the slick slide of your thighs over one another. “God, Red, you came so hard.”

You were far too leaden-legged to stagger across the room to your backpack and get out the wipes from the top section, but Red obliged and tenderly cleaned you. The process of touching you everywhere and taking care of you seemed to get him worked up all over again because when you opened your exhausted eyes while you lay on your back and he knelt between your legs, you found that his cock was hard and leaking again, though he seemed content enough to ignore it in favour of your comfort. When you expressed quiet surprise at his stamina, he twitched his mandibles into his shy smile.

“You make me like that,” he said. “I will not… I mean… if you are tired…” he added awkwardly.

“Come on me?” you whispered, and he rumbled a pleased groan.

Still kneeling like a supplicant, he took his cock in his hand and worked himself slowly to start with. The slick sounds of his pleasure filled the small room and despite your tiredness, you found yourself turned on again by the sight of him. “I can smell you,” he hissed, opening his mandibles wide. “I can taste you…”

“Come on me, Red.”

At that, he looked down at you with reverence, gasped, grunted, pitched forwards onto one hand, and then started to come all over his fingers in thick, pale spurts. He directed his release over your stomach, but a moment later his knees went out from under him with a small gasp of surprise from the force of it, and he ground his cock against you instead, all the while still coming.

Red’s second orgasm lasted just as long as the first, and seemed just as intense, but eventually he went still and he buried his face near your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin while you let your fingertips draw idle patterns over the cracks and textures of his leathery shoulders. Occasionally you stroked down the length of one of his ‘dreads’ and he would whimper and rock his hips, grinding his slick, softening cock into the hollow of your hip. The mess between you was nowhere near as much this time though, but he still used up a fair few wipes to clean you off again.

The mattress was ruined. It was partly from his destructive claws but mostly because of the mess that had spilled out of you, so when you expressed distaste at the idea of sleeping on it, he spread your sleeping bag onto the floor and lifted you onto it, one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders.

He dragged the blanket down and pulled it over himself with uncharacteristically clumsy movements, and then pulled you — sleeping bag and all — right up against his chest and began to purr like a big cat.

“You ok?” you asked, not knowing the protocol for his kind after apparently mind-blowing sex.

He nodded.

“You need anything?”

He shook his head and held you even tighter.

“You should rest,” he said thickly. His breathing evened out only a few minutes later, and it wasn’t long before you joined him in the deepest sleep you’d ever experienced.

When you woke in the morning, the lantern was still glowing dimly and Red was somehow wrapped even more determinedly around you, and you wondered how long you could get away with lying there before either Croc disturbed you or the rescue team arrived.

___

Still here?

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#yautja #yautja inspired #yautja x reader #yautja x human #feral predator #feral predator inspired #feral predator x reader #feral predator x human #big red and croc #alien boyfriend #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x human

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rbbrbikerthorp · 1 year

Text

From Work Stressed to Smoking Skinhead

[Initially, I’d intended this to be a one-off story, but the set-up has taken so long that there’s going to have to be a second part. Enjoy!]

I’m Gaz, I’m 31. I’m a skinhead. In the picture you can see what I look like, now that my new m8s have transformed me, and have made me unrecognisable from the person I once was.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Before I forget who I was, let me tell you about how I came to be here. I had a job that some would describe as being a stressful way to earn a living. I was one of those office drones who chased figures every month. As part of my job, I was required to travel, often several times a week; this could be to London, Birmingham, Edinburgh, or where-ever our customers were based. In preference to sitting in traffic on the motorway, taking the train was the stress-free way to travel. It meant I could use the time to check reports or presentations and, on the way, home I’d catch up on any emails that needed dealing with.

So, this one day when my life changed forever, I had a table seat booked on the 6:40am to London, but when I looked at the departure board and saw the word every traveller dreads, ‘cancelled’ was posted against my train. So like dozens of other passengers heading for the capital on that day I was told to catch the next train. When I climbed on board, I realised the train was already very crowded. I’d struggle to get any seat, let alone find a table seat. I walked through three carriages, but there was no empty seats. Just as I was about to accept that I’d be standing in the vestibule, I heard, “Oi, fella...” a voice. Was that aimed at me?

I turned around. “Here fella, the window seat is free”. So, he was talking to me. I was so grateful for the offer of the seat that, other than his shaved head, (which is normal for many guys these days), At this point I hadn’t taken much notice of him. I thanked the shaved headed guy then I got my laptop out of my bag, which I put up on the luggage rack. Then I took off my jacket hung it on the peg next to the window and plonked myself down in the seat. Very quickly I was lost catching up on a report I needed to finish.

As soon as the train departed, I heard the familiar sound of cans being opened and the familiar smell of beer, which wasn’t that appealing at this time of day. “You look really stressed mate. You should have one of these.”

I looked up watch, it was just after seven in the morning, “er, what?” I asked. It was then that I realised I was looking at a guy with a completely shaved head, wearing what I thought was a black polo shirt and green kind of bomber jacket.

“You heard. Do yer want a can, a beer?” it was a different voice. I looked up from my screen to see another guy with a shaved head. He was holding out a can of beer, one I didn’t recognise. “I’m Sam by the way.” That’s Billy already ‘on the pop’, and this”, pointing at a slightly older looking guy in the other aisle seat, “is Jimmy.”

“Oh, no thanks. I should have been on the earlier train, but it got cancelled. I didn’t think I’d get a seat on this train because it’s so busy. I’ve got a meeting that starts at 9:30 and I’ve got a report to prepare for it.”

Jimmy quickly chirped in, “Come on”, pulling the ring-pull, “that’s over two hours from now, here.” He grabbed my hand and gave me the can.

“No, honestly, it’s very kind of you, but I’ve...”

Sam interrupted, and I looked over at him. “Listen, I can see how stressed you are right now. I can see the sweat on yer top lip. You need to relax or yer gonna blow a fuse. I bet you’ll be talking bollocks all day in the hope of closin’ a sale or summit’. Chill m8, you can surely spare a few minutes to have a beer. And it would show us how much you appreciate us giving you the seat. Now, you know our names, tell us yours.”

Reluctantly, but out of politeness, I accepted the can. and said “Cheers. I’m Gareth by the way, Gareth Fairburn” Not really sure why I included my surname. They all looked at me as I took my first swig of the beer, and coughed “Wow, that’s got a kick.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get used to it after a few swigs”, said Billy. “I fact I’m pretty sure it’ll be your drink of choice when we’re done with you.”

“You know this is very nice of you...” I said, about to get back to working my report. But before I could look down, I saw Jimmy’s hand reach across and shut the lid on my laptop. I could see letters on the knuckles and there was a bird tattoo on the back of his hand. “C’mon fella, put your work stress aside for a bit and have a natter with us while you sup your beer.”

Jimmy read me like a book, I was stressed. I was on my way to see a key customer; one that knew how important they were to the business I worked for and would make me jump through hoops to get the contract renewed. I knew I had to finish the report because I’d promised to email it ahead of my meeting. I was thinking about looking for another seat, when Jimmy coughed to get my attention. I looked up at him; He had that rough but good-looking appearance. Until then, I hadn’t noticed the ink on his neck, it looked like some ancient design but I couldn’t really see it properly. It was the first time I noticed the rings in his ears too. He grinned at me. I watched him swig his beer from the can. At that point I knew wasn’t heading off to a stressful meeting. He wouldn’t be selling his soul to get a contract renewed.

Jimmy leaned forward and I could smell his smokey breath. “Right, let me tell you how it’s going to be Gaz, my boi. We’ll take your stress away, but before we can help you need to tell us about who you are and what you do. Got it?”

Billy belched several times, The belches were so loud and the other people looked up from their laptops and tablets to see where the sound was . He slammed his empty can of beer down on the table in front of me. “So m8 what do you do?”

My heart was pounding; yet suddenly, I felt that a weight lifted from my shoulders. These guys had shown an interest in me. No one normally did that, not my boss, not my customers, not my family. They wanted to help with my stress. So, I took another swig from the can - I wondered whether people really like this taste? Anyway, I began telling them was a commercial development manager.

“You in sales then Gaz?” Billy interrupted.

“I guess you could put it that way,” I replied

“Keep drinking mate, it’ll help yer stress go away for now.” I did as I was told and took another swig from the can Jimmy pulled another one out of the bag and pushed it towards me. “See, we’ve got plenty. And we want to help de-stress our new m8.”

I was about to take another swig of beer when I remember, “...ah, I’ve got to do this report, or I’ll be.”

Sam jumped in. “You’ve got plenty of time.” Like the other two, he had a shaved head, but he also had a gold ring in his nose, when he talked, I could see a stud in his tongue and there were tattoos in multiple places.

“Yeah, Gaz plenty of time to do work boring shit...I bet you work all hours of the day and night. That’s why you get stressed.”

I was about to say I did, but they spoke first. “Here you are Gaz, you can have another can with us. If you want, we can give you a stress-free life”

“If only.” I sighed.

“Listen m8, we can make all those worries go away,” Sam was leaning up close to me now.

I realised I was slurring my speech at this stage, “Please, my name is Gareth. Look, I’ve a lease on my flat, I’ve got car payments to make and I’m running an overdraft right now. I don’t think you can make that go away” I replied, feeling slightly sick at the amount of debt I was funding.

“Don’t you fret about all of that,” The other two joined in, “let us take charge and your problems will be gone.”

What could I say to that? So I smiled a knowing smile and thought I’d humour my skinhead m8s. Hemmed in the way I was, I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. I don’t really remember too much more of the conversation as my three new m8s plied me with beer; but it was me talking and they were listening. At the time I didn’t realise they were that whilst I was taking relatively big gulps of beer, they were only taking small sips from their own cans.

An announcement came on the tannoy to say the next stop would be Doncaster. Jimmy piped up, “Right lads, we’re here. Gaz, get up and we’ll show you how to live stress-free.” Through my haze, I didn’t really know what was going on. Then all of a sudden, I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me out of the seat. I was about to get my stuff when Billy came really close to me and said, “Come on Gaz, we gotta go. Now!”

“Why do they insist on calling me Gaz?” I wondered

“[Burp] Hang on guys my name’s Gareth, and I’m going to a mee...” I was cut short by Billy again. “You’re meeting has just been cancelled, so you’re gonna be spending the day taking it easy with us. And we’re calling you Gaz, so get used to it. Let’s go.”

“What about my stuff?” I was trying to pull back so that I could grab my bag, coat and laptop. But Billy and Sam pulled me along the carriage. I tried to pull in the opposite direction, the direction of my belongings, but they were too strong for me. I had allowed myself to be marched off the train by two of my three new skinhead m8s who were going to ‘help me’ get rid of all my anxieties.

Once off the train, I turned around to hear the audible warning that the doors were about to close started, I was watching the train doors slide into the closed position when Jimmy came up to me holding a lit cigarette.

Blowing the smoke in my face, he spoke with reassured confidence. “The train’s departing and as you watch it leave, think this: with it goes your old life. With it goes all of your stresses and problems.” I watched the train pull out of the station, and he was right, on board were all my possessions, including my wallet and phone. I was about to panic, but Billy and Sam were beside me, holding me. Jimmy offered me a cigarette to which I declined. He came into my face and said, “take it,” he ordered. “It’s the first step to getting rid of all that stress. We’re m8s. If yer m8s smoke, then you smoke!”

I was still under the influence of whatever beer I’d been drinking, so gingerly I took the cigarette, but I didn't know how to hold it. Billy got his lighter out and lit it. “Put it between your lips and start sucking Gaz.” So, I sucked in as the flame touched the end of the cigarette. My fingers, clamped on the little cigarette, which, as you would expect for a novice was poorly positioned in my mouth. The smoke, ashy and light, filled my mouth, made my eyes water. I coughed on every drag, even though I barely inhaled. My three skinhead m8s were beside themselves with laughter. I noticed passengers gathering for the next train, and I heard them comment about smoking being banned in stations, but new m8s didn't care. Once I’d finished the first cigarette, Jimmy handed me another. “Right, here’s what you do. Put the cigarette between your lips. When I light it, gently suck the smoke - nice ‘n’ steady into your lungs.”

I gave it a go and found this time I wasn’t spluttering everywhere.

Jimmy continued, “now hold the smoke in yer lungs, and breathe in through your mouth.” I did as I was instructed. Jimmy reached into the pocket of his green jacked, as he was pulling out the contents, he said, “these are yours now. If we are going help alleviate you of your work stress you need to get through these. When you’ve finished that one, light up another.”

It wasn’t a request; it was an instruction.

Sam, who’d been talking on his phone during this time chipped in, smiling at me, “nice one m8, you’ll be smoking twenty a day before you know it.”

I just nodded, not taking much notice of what was going on as I tried to master smoking a cigarette.

Sam turned to the other two skinhead, “Tony said he’s got no appointments this morning and he can be at the studio in ten minutes. It will take us about that long to walk there with Gaz, even in the state he’s in.”

Hearing my name, piqued my interest in their conversation, “wh... wh. where ere are we going?”

Billy jumped in, “we’re taking you to another m8′s gaff. His work is transformative. In no time at all your work worries will be a faded memory.”

Sam has started sniggering, so had Jimmy, but then he managed to say, “Before we can go to Tony’s studio, we need to stop off with Gaz at the house. Let’s get a move on, we’ve a lot to do.”

#slkinhead #smoking #ranger boots

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massivedrickhead · 6 months

Note

I hope i’m not late but i’m a sucker for protective Beca / only being a softie when it comes to Chloe, and this prompt seems like a perfect fit : “Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?” so can I put the request in? 🥹 thanks in advance either way love your work

I'm honestly having so much fun with these prompts. I can't remember the last time I wrote and posted this consistently.

So thank you for sending this, and to everyone who's sent them so far!

16. “Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?”

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

“Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?”

Chloe rubbed her eyes and shrugged, avoiding looking at Beca.

“Because it’s okay if that’s what it is,” Beca said. “You don’t have to be, like, embarrassed or anything.”

Chloe let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “Who still gets nightmares in their 20s?” Chloe asked, still not meeting Beca’s eyes. “What am I, six?”

Beca frowned. “Lots of people still get nightmares. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with age.”

“It’s stupid,” Chloe said, wiping away the tears that kept filling her eyes. She felt frustrated. Embarrassed. And tired.

So tired.

“It isn’t stupid,” Beca said. Chloe rolled her eyes in response.

“It isn’t smart.”

“If our roles were swapped would you be calling me stupid?” Beca asked. “Would you say I was embarrassing?”

“Of course not,” Chloe said.

“So don’t say it about yourself,” Beca said.

Chloe shrugged again. “It’s how I feel,” she said. “I should know better than to be this freaked out over something that isn’t even real.”

“Sometimes fear is like that,” Beca said. “Take me and spiders. I know they aren’t going to hurt me, but I’m still terrified.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on Chloe’s face, and Beca took that as a small victory.

“You need to sleep, Chlo’,” Beca said. “You can’t keep going like this. Tell me how to help. What do you need?”

“I need to not be afraid,” Chloe said. “I don’t know how you fix that.”

Beca sighed and looked around the room, as if a solution to their problem might suddenly jump out.

“You’ve had them every night this week?” Beca asked.

Chloe nodded. “Always the same thing. I’m being chased through the house but I can’t run away fast enough. He’s always just right behind me. No matter where I hide, he finds me. And just before he kills me, I wake up.” Chloe shuddered just at the memory of it. She’d had it every night this week, and every time she’d woken up in the early hours of the morning and been completely unable to go back to sleep. She was running on three or four hours of sleep a night, and it was starting to take its toll.

“What’s your usual bedtime routine?” Beca asked. “Do you, like, listen to music or anything, or are you one of those weirdos who goes to sleep in absolute silence?”

Chloe laughed. “Silence,” she said. “I put on my pyjamas, brush my teeth, read for a little while, and then I fall asleep. Only lately I’ve been pushing my bedtime later and later, reading for longer, until I literally can’t keep my eyes open. Then I fall asleep, have the nightmare, wake up, and just stay awake.”

Beca thought for a minute. “What if we switched up your routine?”

“In what way?” Chloe asked.

Beca checked her phone. It was pushing 10 pm now, which was a little earlier than either of them normally went to bed. “Get yourself sorted for bed and come up to my room. Amy is out with Bumper tonight.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, willing to try anything at this point.

About 10 minutes later, Chloe was knocking on Beca’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” Beca said.

Chloe entered and found Beca sitting on her bed, also in her pyjamas, typing on her laptop.

“You’ve got a choice,” Beca said. “You can either get in with me or take Amy’s bed.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow and approached Beca’s bed. “Like you even have to ask.”

Beca smiled. “I don’t like to assume,” she said. “Okay, have you got like a TV show or movie that you’ve seen so many times you could probably say it word for word?”

Chloe thought. “Probably Friends,” she said.

“Any particular episode?”

Chloe shook her head. “Dealer’s choice,” she said.

Beca pulled up Netflix on her laptop and picked a random episode.

She shuffled over slightly so Chloe could get into the bed and get comfy.

“What are we doing?” Chloe asked once she was settled.

Beca turned off the lamp on her nightstand and rested the laptop on her legs so Chloe could see the screen.

“We’re just watching Friends,” Beca said. She hit play and the episode started. “Can you hear it okay?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “It’s a little quiet.”

“But you can still hear it?”

“Yeah, I can hear it.”

The familiarness of the show began to wash over Chloe as she settled further into the bed. She let her head rest on Beca’s shoulder.

They carried on watching the show and Chloe felt her eyes beginning to close. She cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, trying to blink away the tiredness.

“Okay?” Beca asked.

“Yeah.”

“Comfy enough?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said again, stifling a yawn.

“Hey,” Beca said. “It isn’t bedtime yet, you can’t fall asleep.”

Chloe let out a snort of laughter, her head resting on Beca’s shoulder again.

“I feel like I’m being tricked,” she said. “Like that bit in Mary Poppins when she tells the kids they aren’t allowed to go to sleep.”

“No trick here,” Beca said. “We’re just watching Friends.”

“Uh-huh.”

They carried on watching in silence, one episode blending into the next, until Chloe was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“It’s okay,” Beca said, her voice softer than Chloe had ever heard it. “You can close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chloe made a grumbling noise of disagreement and forced them open again.

“You don’t have to sleep,” Beca said. “Just close your eyes and listen to the show.”

Chloe didn’t want to, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

As she finally let them close, she felt Beca move beneath her, and Beca’s shoulder was replaced by a pillow.

It felt impossibly comfortable.

Friends was still playing, so Chloe kept listening until it all started drifting away.

And then she was back in the empty Bellas house. Back in the darkness. Back to running away from this figure chasing her.

Only this time, she wasn’t alone.

This time, Beca was waiting for her at the front door. Urging her forward, a hand outstretched, reaching for her.

Her hand closed around Beca’s and Beca tugged her, and they both started running.

Out of the house and away from the man.

Away from the nightmare.

She woke with a start still, but her chest wasn’t filled with panic like it usually was.

“Hey,” came Beca’s slightly raspy voice from beside her. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Chloe saw the laptop was still open on Beca’s lap, the light of the screen illuminating her tired face. It looked like she was working on a mix.

“You’re okay,” Beca said again. “I’m here.”

Chloe let out a shaky exhale as her shoulders relaxed.

“I know you are,” she said, settling back down onto the bed and falling back to sleep almost immediately.

#bechloe #pitch perfect fanfiction #fanfic #pitch perfect fanfic #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #chloe #beca #bechloe prompt #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #bechloe fluff #fluff #pitch perfect fic #no matter the timeline

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brighter-by-the-daly · 11 months

Text

Millie Bright x Reader

Part Three: Triggered

Posted 04/06/23, Edited 27/06/23

“Good morning beautiful 😘” was the first notification you saw as your picked your phone up to look at the time.

Y - “It’s been a long time since I woke up to one of those texts 🤭”

M - “I’m surprised about that”

Y - “get to know me better and maybe you won’t be”

M - “I’d like to, are you going to the game tonight?”

The text exchange continued between both of you, it’s been non-stop since your train ride home a few days ago. You hadn’t gotten tickets for the England v Australia game tonight as the stadium looked tricky to get to and two unknown stadiums in one week was just a bit too much overstimulation. Millie wasn’t taking no for an answer though as she asked you to go with her and to meet at her house, she’ll drive so there’ll be no public transport involved. You said you’ll think about it but in typical Millie fashion she replied “it’s a date, be here at 7 😉” sending you a pin of her address. You didn’t reply after that, still trying to keep her guessing. Of course you’d go if it meant seeing Millie again, your head had been filled with thoughts of her since the day you met.

Climbing out of your car, Millie must have been watching and waiting for your arrival as her front door flew open the moment you pulled up. “Nice coat!” she shouted from the door way, “I’ve got my own in here” calling out to her while opening the boot of your car. “Keep it, it looks good on you” winking as held her arms out for a hug, kissing you on the forehead as she squeezed you tightly then held her passenger door open for you to slip in. “So..” she started whilst turning the radio down “I’m gonna park in the player’s car park and we’re gonna go in through the back door, they don’t show that on the map” - informing you of what’s about to happen. It was admirable that she’d taken on board what you’d said last time and was trying to ensure that you would be comfortable. “I haven’t looked at the map for tonight, I trust you” turning smile at her. For the first time in ages you’d agreed to a spontaneous plan and hadn’t researched it to an inch of it’s life. The conversations you’d had with her for hours on end made you feel safe, like you could rely on her to make sure you have a stress free evening. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever had” turning to look at you and squeezing your thigh. “Okayyy, what I’m hearing is that not a lot of people trust you so I shouldn’t?” jokingly opening the maps app on your phone. “No, stop. Obviously normal compliments are fine but being trusted feels better than say.. being called pretty or something” she shrugged. “Well you’re that too, I’ll see if I still trust ya at the end of the night” you chuckled softly. Each of you knew that the feelings between you were mutual and the days of pretending you didn’t were long gone.

Millie guided you across the car park towards the stadium, away from the hustle and bustle of thousands of fans making their way inside. As you neared closer her hand grazed against yours before locking your fingers together making your tummy do cartwheels. Flashing her lanyard and getting waved inside she lead you up the stairs and into a box, grabbing you both a tea and settling into your seats where she made sure you were on the aisle again. Eyeing up the line up together her head was almost on your shoulder as she leant over to look at your phone. The game was bleak, Millie watched you stand up and sit down every two minutes shouting support at the team. At a moment where you were sitting her hand found it’s way onto your thigh again “I love how into this you get” she chuckled softly. “I’m comfortable, I’m not like this if I’m not” shrugging at her comment. “Like the first game?” she asked, you nodded and explained how being yourself is harder when you’re uncomfortable then asked if she’s frustrated watching her team losing. “No, you watch the game but I’m studying it. Where we’re going wrong, what could have been done differently. It’s all learning. Yeah it’s gutting but it helps us prepare for the World Cup… you carry on though, it’s cute” nudging her shoulder into yours. “My friends think I’m embarrassing” standing up again “I’d prefer you to be yourself” the defender’s hand grazed your back as she stood up next to you.

The evening was filled with smiley flirty glances towards each other and at half time she made her move, lifting her arm up and around your shoulders allowing you to snuggle into her. You reminded your date that the cameras would probably show her at some point but she didn’t care. This made you blush a little as you sunk further into her; with your feet up on the seats in front of you, it felt super cosy. We came away with a loss, the first L under Sarina’s management. It was a tough pill to swallow as fan and player but you couldn’t have been prouder of the team. Losing made you appreciate women’s football, the crowd just accepted it and moved on. No arguments or swearing or violence - proud of the players regardless. Allowing the fans to trickle out of the stadium before making your exit, Millie held your hand every step of the way and once in the car park wrapped her arm around your shoulders again as you walked across the car park together. Her hand firmly on your thigh the entire drive home.

Pulling up outside the house you were quick to climb out the car and wave goodbye. As you headed towards your own car a hand clasped around your wrist, Millie was pulling you back towards her. “Can’t wait to get away from me aih?” she asked with a smirk as her forefinger stroked the hair out of your face. “No.. it’s not that” looking down at your feet as your reply was muttered, “what is it then?” using the same finger to lift your chin so you were looking up at her. Her bright blue eyes and floppy blonde bun made you subconsciously moisten your lips as your eyes flickered between her facial features. This told her everything she needed to know as she moved her hand to the side of your neck, taking up most of the space on your skin as she leant down to place a kiss softly upon your lips. Tiptoeing to reach her as her other hand held the small of your back pulling you into her, yours balanced on her hips as your lips entwined further. “Stay with me” escaped her mouth between kisses, your lips smiling against hers as small nods moved your head in agreement, faces still joined together until she pulled away to guide you towards the house. You’d had such a good night that you didn’t want it to end. Watching her close the door behind her you were quickly pulled back into her arms “I’ll have my coat back now” she giggled softly as she pushed it over your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Kicking your shoes off she wrapped her arms around your waist and you draped yours around her neck, tiptoeing to reach her as your lips found their way together again. As she started to lift you up off the floor you broke the kiss off “you shouldn’t be doing that” concerned about her knee, “don’t worry about it” her voice had turned husky between kisses as you connected your legs around waist. She walked you over to the sofa, sitting down with you on top of her, hands on each others face. Pulling her bunchie out to release her wavy blonde hair made your smile bigger as it dropped past her shoulders. “You have a beautiful smile” she said tucking your hair behind your ears before kissing you again “I’ve been dying to do this since I met you” she whispered. You questioned her statement as she seemed so grumpy, she insisted that she was smitten the moment you shared your food with her. “That’s why I sat down next to you, I couldn’t have gone inside” she reassured you that she didn’t realise how blunt she came across, especially if you don’t know her very well. All that was blown away now as you felt her hands pull your head towards hers. Spending the night getting to know each other’s mouths until you fell asleep on her chest. As she stroked your hair your mind filled with happy little flutters. You felt like you’d finally found your person, someone that took the time to truly understand you.

#millie bright #millie bright x reader #lionesses #woso masterlist #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #england x reader #england women #woso fanfics

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gurugirl · 9 months

Note

I love stepdad Harry! Always brings a smile to my face when i see youve posted (guilty pleasure yum). Thank you for the last one!

but i cannot get enough of stepmom reader. You’ve made that one into something really special. In fact I told someone about it last week and they were like ~ nope. Not into stepmom stuff or older yn. Nope ~

but then guess what? they wound up reading it and binged all three parts and admitted to me that they were wrong 😂 I’m like ‘yeah I know’

just wanted to share that with you! Your stepmom fic is so shockingly good (not shocking bc you’re not a good writer, shocking bc it’s a trope most of us were not interested in) that it’s quickly become my top 5 all time favorite.

i cannot wait for part 4! I adore them and you so much. Do you have any idea when part 4 will come out? Any sneaky???

ps.. sorry for the weird capitalization stuff going on there. My phone decided when to capitalize randomly and I’m too lazy to fix.

A Good Boy sneak peek under the cut below!

🥹 thank you so much, babe. Really glad you liked the stepdad!harry from yesterday! That was a quick little fun thing to write.

As for stepmom!reader - wow! I really love that you're liking it so much and talking about it with other people and that your friend changed their mind 😂 Seems to be the theme for that fic. So many of y'all didn't think you'd like it based on the trope alone but I'm surprised that you guys did enjoy it anyway! Makes me smile.

So, I'm almost done with part 4. I think I can have it out by Thursday? Maybe? I'm super busy today (well, busy for me LOL) and gonna try to write but I've also got something I'm working on that someone paid me to write so I'm prioritizing that. Thursday at the earliest I'll post part 4 but I'll let y'all know.

And the random capitalization? My phone does the same. 😂 The words can't, can, and don't often get capitalized in the middle of sentences and it's a crapshoot on when the beginning of a sentence will be capitalized or not. I need to turn it off so it just leaves everything lowercase. So no judgement from me!

Sneak peek below !! (just remember this is literally copied from the word doc I'm writing in and hasn't been proofread or edited so some changed may be made before I post part 4)

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Servers walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

A Good Boy Masterlist

A Good Boy tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay @amateurduck

#harry styles #firstpost #ask #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #sneak peek #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #stepmom!reader

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cindersnows · 7 months

Text

ava sticktober prompt 1: sticks flowers

YEAH i know day one is sticks but i couldn't muster up the energy to draw every single stick or even just every member of the cg. my bad

i did however grab the opportunity to draw a scene from the new chapter of my fic where blue gives purple flowers though so there's that. i will also post the actual chapter and pretend it's for sticktober here

(below cut)

That evening, when Purple was escorted back to his room, his mind was filled with questions.

Why did Duke Green and Baron Rowan forgive him so easily? Was there any deeper meaning to what the Duke had said, or was he really just giving Purple advice? People didn't normally just- give random tips to their opponent, not unless they wanted to lose. Was this a Hollowic Empire custom?

There was the issue of the mission the King had given him too— steal the Craft Gemstone. Three days after arrival, and the prince hadn't even looked into the possible location of the gemstone.

For a moment, Purple felt irritated; Why would they brother task them something so difficult? There were theives and mercenaries all across the country that could do this job a million times better, especially considering the fact that basically everyone in the empire would have their eyes on Purple. They weren't even good at fighting! Why them?

Fucking hell.

They flopped onto their bed, groaning. This was way too much for them to deal with tonight. They'd much rather just sleep and not have to deal with any of this. Maybe if things went right, they wouldn't have to wake up.

___________________

He slept through the whole night.

If he dreamed, he couldn't remember it, save for the lingering feeling of sadness that he often woke up with.

He would've rolled over and closed his eyes again, a futile effort to sleep for a bit longer, but the sunlight streaming through the curtains told him there was no point.

Purple took a deep breath, savoring his last moments in the comfort of his bed, before swiftly sitting up to get ready for the day. He drearily threw the sheets off himself and stood up, straightening his nightdress. The servants had already taken out his clothes for the day, as per his request, so that was one thing out of the way.

Getting ready took around an hour and a half—- the prince had only worn the barest of clothes: a simple white shirt, jacket and a pair of trousers. He didn't intend to do much today, head still swarming with emotions from the duel the previous day. He didn't quite want to address that.

Often, when he didn't feel like dealing with the pressures of socializing and high society, he would withdraw to his room for days at a time, focusing solely on his work to the point he forgot to eat and drink. It was unhealthy, he knew, but it helped him wind down.

This was one of those times. And since Purple couldn't exactly work while in a foreign city, he'd have to settle for reading books instead.

“Kombu, please get someone to bring me a few books on history and mythology,” He called out, not bothering to open the door.

Kombu Cone was the knight that the King had sent to protect Purple during the trip. They hadn't spoken much, but the knight seemed content to obey his orders with any conversation, and Purple was more than happy to do the same.

A small grunt of confirmation sounded from outside the door. After what felt like forever, a servant scurried into the room, holding a small pile of books.

“These are the librarian's recommendations; Please let us know if there are any specific books you would like to read,” the servant said. Purple nodded at her, and she quickly exited the room with a bow.

He grabbed the first book off the pile, inspecting the cover. 'The history of Dojo Duel Tournaments', the title read.

Purple hummed, running his finger down the side of the book. Dueling Tournaments were a large part of culture across the world, but they weren't very important in the Nether Kingdom. Back home, the warriors prided themselves more on battle strategies and war tactics rather than competitive fighting, and the books in the Royal Palace's library reflected this.

This was the first time Purple had picked up a book on the subject, but it never hurt to learn more about other cultures. He flipped open the book and began to read.

A few days passed like this; Purple would spend the whole day at his desk or in his bed reading, only taking breaks to sleep, eat, and bathe.

Occasionally, he heard muttering outside — Hollowic servants questioning the knights and servants that had accompanied him about whether it was normal for the prince to stay in his room for this long.

He didn't bother to pay much attention to those conversations.

Instead, he preferred to dive deeper into his books, living out the stories. That was what he loved about reading. It was like travelling to different time periods and countries, all within the safety of his room. This especially rang true with history and mythology, the latter often serving to entertain him with ridiculous stories attempting to explain the various natural phenomenons of their world.

Plus, it was fun to pick out the themes found throughout the various mythologies. Ancient Hollowic mythology seemed to place a lot of emphasis on tragedies and redemption, for example. This was a stark contrast to the stories Purple had been raised with, all detailing tales of war and over-convoluted revenge. He cringed, recalling the one where two groups of people played hot potato with a magical staff in an ongoing battle for weeks. Clearly, the writers of that one weren't sure how to create effective tension.

_____________

A knock sounded at the prince's door, breaking their focus.

Shit, they'd just been getting to the most interesting part. They opened their mouth, preparing to just order whoever it was to leave, when the person spoke.

“Your highness, a letter has arrived from the King of the Nether Kingdom.”

Oh, shit!

“Bring it in!” Purple called out, voice slightly pitched. They'd forgotten about their brother and the mission entirely, too engrossed in reading. Was the King upset that he'd yet to send a letter detailing what he'd done?

The door opened with a click, and the servant scurried in, dropping the letter on the desk and leaving the room.

Purple got up from their bed, making their way over to the desk. They moved to pick up the letter, before pausing.

Did he really want to deal with another one of the King's thinly veiled scoldings, ranting in formal language about how Purple had 'disappointed him' and 'wasn't doing the one job he'd asked' and all that crap? Even though a small part of him felt guilty thinking of his brother in such a negative light, he still felt a little resentful.

They dropped their hand, shaking their head. Nope! Not now. If the King got impatient, they could just blame it on the distance. For now, they would do something else.

'What to do, what to do...'

They could just continue reading... but honestly, they'd lost the mood now.

Maybe a walk would help.

The prince threw open the door, walking straight out and down the hallway, only to bump right into Second.

“Purple, what a surprise to see you here!” He exclaimed, raising an hand to his mouth as if to emphasize his shock. Purple raised a brow, tilting them head to see all four of Second's friends looking at them with varying levels of interest— and not a hint of surprise.

“Really, what a surprise for you to bump into me just a few meters down the hall from the room I reside in,” They drawled. They didn't fail to notice the way Blue frowned, likely because of how they weren't playing along with... whatever this was supposed to be.

”Yes, yes, so shocking!” Second agreed, wow the boy was bad at acting. “But anyways, since we've happened upon each other, would you like to accompany my friends and I to the Imperial Gardens?”

Purple replied without hesitation, “Of course,” because what were they supposed to do, say no to the Imperial Prince who also happened to be their host?

Second nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer, and beckoned to follow him. “This way, then!”

The six of them started off on their walk towards the gardens in silence. Unsure what else to do, Purple decided to observe Second's noble friends ('noble' was a stretch— Baron Rowan was among the lowest of ranks, and Blue and Yellow didn't seem to have any titles at all. Honestly, they seemed less like his friends and more like the prince's band of servants).

Duke Green was, as always, dressed handsomely for the occasion. If someone were to ask Purple, they'd say he was overdressed, but he did not voice this thought out loud. They were probably on bad enough terms already.

Yellow and Blue were whispering to each other, just like they'd been the day before. If Purple strained his ears, he could hear them chuckle every few minutes. The pair were obviously close. He couldn't help but find this odd, considering all he'd heard about Blue was that she and Baron Rowan were very close friends. But again, he supposed people could have multiple best friends.

They reached the gardens relatively quickly, and gods, it was beautiful.

Purple had been to many castles, mansions and palaces before. Never had he seen a garden of such scale— not even his own palace's gardens compared.

The place was like a canvas littered with splotches of color, each bush covered in healthy, vibrant flowers. From lilies to columbines to daffodils, the garden was bursting with radiant hues that made Purple's jaw drop.

“Hey,” Someone called out, and it took Purple a moment to realise that Blue was talking to him. Leaf was stood near a row of brilliant indigo flowers, gesturing for Purple to come over. The prince obliged, stepping carefully as to ensure he didn't crush any plants.

“Blue. Hello.” Purple greeted with as graceful a tone as he could muster. He had a tendency to come off as irritated even when he wasn't, so he had to go the extra length to make sure no one was put off by him.

“Prince Aster, look at these,” Blue said proudly, motioning to the flowers. “These were the first flowers I grew in the Imperial Palace. They're called bluebells.”

Purple blinked in surprise, eyebrows raising a little. He knew they were bluebells, of course—- what surprised him was the first thing Blue had said. “You're one of the royal gardeners?” He questioned.

Blue fiddled with her hands, shaking leafs head. “Not officially, no, but I will be soon! Chosen allowed me to plant some things because I was learning, and also because I'm cool as fuck-" Leaf struck a dramatic pose to emphasize his point, and Purple had to hold back a giggle, "Once I turn 18, I will officially be appointed as one of the royal gardeners."

"That's wonderful,” Purple smiled.

The pair lapsed into silence for a bit. He had to salvage this— he didn't want any of Second's friends to dislike him, or else Second himself might start to avoid him.

Purple fumbled for something to say, “Did you know that certain flowers can have special meanings? Orchids, for example, are used to symbolize elegance, gracefulness and beauty. They remind me of my mother. It's fitting that she was named after them.”

Purple paused, realising Blue had gone completely silent. Had he spoken a little too much, or said something out of line-? Maybe it was condescending to talk to Blue as if they knew more about flowers than leaf, or maybe-

"Do you have any other flowers that remind you of people?" Blue asked, breaking the pause.

…They wanted to hear more? That was a first. Well, Purple wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to discuss something they liked.

Even then, they didn't quite know how to answer the question. He tended to assign flowers to most interesting people that he met, even if he'd only met them once. It was like second nature— Clematis for the viscount he'd met at the reception, Cattails for Kombu who seemed invisible and yet was always nearby, and for his brother…

"Well, I don't think about it particularly much." He responded. "But if you'd like to hear about any specific flower- or person- I wouldn't mind telling you."

"What flower would you associate with Second?" Blue asked, so quickly that it caught Purple off-guard.

"Well, the Imperial Prince…" He was naive, for one. Despite being the crown prince of the Empire, he likely didn't do much other than hold the title. He seemed carefree in a way, unbothered by the expectations of the citizens of the Empire, nobles and commoners alike. When he smiled, it was like the sun itself had emerged to greet you. And no matter how many mistakes Purple made, or how much they offended him and his friends, Second was always willing to help them and give them another chance.

"Crocus. They symbolize youth, and cheerfulness."

Blue nodded, smiling. "What about Green, and Red?"

"Red?" Purple tilted his head.

"Oh, Baron Rowan Redmond— we call her Red for short."

Purple chuckled. "You and your friends really like color nicknames, don't you? You're like a whole rainbow."

"Yep!" Blue agreed, popping the p. "Yellow's full name isn't even close to the word Yellow, honestly. We just chose it so he'd fit in. Their actual name is Beryl Fairman."

"As in, Marquis Beryl Fairman?" Purple blurted out, surprised. So Yellow hadn't just been some servant or low-rank noble, but a Marquis from one of the more well-known families of the Hollowic Empire. How had he not noticed?

"Yes. She doesn't really like all the fanfare, though. She prefers to just tell people her nickname instead." Purple nodded, understanding. From what he'd read up on the House of Fairman, they were well-respected within the Empire, both for their intelligence and their beauty. Many of the heirs and heiresses of the family ended up betrothed to one of the members of the royal family.

Did that mean Yellow and Second were engaged, then?

Purple frowned a little at the idea. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"As for your earlier question, I'd say that Duke Green resembles an Amaryllis. It symbolizes pride. Baron Rowan would be an Iris— humble, and wise."

Blue barked out a laugh. "HA! Wise? Oink's far from wise, I tell ya. She is humble, you got that right, but the only thing she actually knows anything about is animals. She'd take a brawl over a book any day."

"So… more like a Geranium, then," Purple decided. "It means strength, and good friendship, but certain variants can also refer to… a lower intelligence."

"You can just call moo stupid, you know," Blue joked. "What about Yellow? Wait, no, what flower would you assign me?"

"For Yellow, I would say a rosemary." Purple didn't know much about Yellow, so that was mostly a guess. The marquis was likely intelligent too, so a flower to connotate wisdom would do, but that was about as much as he could figure out. "Blue, I'd say you remind me of a Jasmine Flower. Cheerful and amiable."

Blue's face lit up so bright, Purple thought for a moment that he was looking at a star. "Really? Thank you!"

He shook his head, cheeks heating up a little. "It's nothing, really. I'm just saying what I see."

"Well, it's still a compliment, so I'll take it all the same." Blue smiled. "You know, you're really smart, your highness. I've never met someone as knowledgeable about flowers as you."

Purple shrugged lightly. "Most people in high society know about these things. I'm not very special in that regard. We use flowers to send messages all the time. Like bluebells, for example," He touched one of the bluebells next to the pair, "are used to say 'I forgive you'."

Blue suddenly sat straight up, and Purple flinched back a little, surprised by the sudden motion.

"Is something wrong, Blue?"

"No. But watch this," He smiled, plucking off several bluebells and quickly weaving them together— oh, a flower crown! After about a minute, he finished the crown, and held it out to Purple.

Blue giving Purple a flower crown made from bluebells.

"Here! 'I forgive you'. You know, for the thing you said about me and Red at the reception." Purple looked down at the crown, a little dumbstruck, and then laughed softly.

"Thank you, Blue." He said earnestly, taking the flower crown and placing it upon his head.

Blue waved him off. "You're welcome." After a moment of quiet, she added, "You seem very nice, your highness. I'm sure the others would want to be friends with you. I know I definitely do." Blue pointed out.

Purple didn't respond, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Blue seemed to understand his hesitation. "You don't have to be our friend if you don't want to. But a rainbow isn't really complete without purple."

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babyfacebuttercup · 1 year

Text

My Heart Is Yours

A/n: sorry it’s taken me so long to put this out! I’ll be posting more soon!!!

All the streets were flooded with rain, your hat barely keeping you dry. You couldn’t see that well in this type of weather, and the first thing you saw was a pub that seem to be open. You only assume this because there are a few men standing outside smoking. And with that you took your chances and darted inside out of the rain. Taking off your hat, revealing your puffed out curls. And now melted off make up, you sat down at the bar. Taking off your nearly soaked coat, the bartender walks down to you already with drink in hand. Placing it down in front of you, which didn’t make sense because you had not ordered anything yet. “Excuse me, why did you bring me this? I didn’t order anything.” Staring at him puzzled, the old man leans over the counter slightly. “It was sent by Mr. Shelby.” your eyes nearly fell out of your head hearing that. THE Shelby’s?!? The same ones who started a war with the Italians?! You came to the pub for a drink and that’s all, how did you end up in this mess.

Swallowing the fear that had built up inside you. Your brown eyes travel across the room, where the bartender came from. And long behold all three Shelby brothers sitting at their table. It was John the youngest of the brothers, Thomas who is the middle brother and Arthur the oldest of the Shelby Clan. in Birmingham it’s nearly a death wish to reject the Shelby man. But right now you weren’t in the mood to entertain me, so in your fashion you smile at the bartender sliding the drink back. “ Tell Mr. Shelby I will politely decline his offer. And before you go may I have a gin and tonic please?” With a curtain nod in a stressed smile, the man takes the glass back and disappears. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of receiving drinks from men. It’s just you never take from the Shelby brothers.

A few minutes go by the only source of entertainment,that you have is the barmaid singing. Which wasn’t ideal but it was still nice to say the least. You only wish you could dance right now, that was your first love as a child. It was always your dream to become a professional dancer. But you grew up, your family forced you to face reality. But this is a pub not a dance club. Soon the bartender comes back with one drink in hand. You pay and take your drink from him. The bartender leaves you to your own thoughts. Your mind was still a buzz from work earlier in the day. You are a radio girl it wasn’t a unpleasant job. But hearing people talk constantly is annoying, So you only took the dayshift. Since you know that some girls get home at ungodly hours. Birmingham wasn’t the best when it came to jobs, but this was your home so what else can you do.

Soon you and Arthur became close drunkenly and spoke until the drinks stop flowing . That soon became a routine with you the gangster. After work you go home, get dressed (more presentable) only to go back out down to the Garrison. To see the likes of Arthur Shelby’s drunk in state. He liked to get a jump on drinking, when he was done a job. But one night it was different, when walking through the doors. Arthur wasn’t in his usual stool at the bar. It was odd that he was probably late, so settling in your seat getting your usual. Conversing with John about his love life which also became normal as well. “And I says to Annie why do I have to stop my drink to listen to your problems? You don’t ask me about mine. Why should I care?” A scoff comes out of you gaining the man’s attention. “Spit it out woman.” He says with a roll of his eyes while taking a drag of his cigarette. “Nothing John your just a lady killer that’s all. But honestly I think you should be more gentle with the girls. You are a Shelby after all, take her out to a nice walk in the park with some flowers Johnny boy. And she’ll be more caring towards you.” You turn back to your glass gaining a nod of agreement. “You’re right y/n but I would tell Arthur that if that’s what you want.” He says with a chuckle from the youngest Shelby.

Soon you asked Arthur if he’d mind walking you home. It was about 12:00 and as a woman you knew it wasn’t safe for you. He drunkenly agreed seeing the situation, and Arthur wouldn’t have the heart to let you go. Walking out the pub arms locked together keeping each other steady. It was a quiet night, it had just finished raining which you loved. “Arthur do you like what you do? I mean as far as working with your brothers.” he hadn’t expected you to ask that sort of question, but he had no reason not to answer. “ The Shelby’s stick together. With me being the oldest I have to take care of my brothers. But the gambling business is a good business for us to be in especially Tommy.” He says with a big smile. Eventually, you two make it to your small apartment. You ask if Arthur would like to come up for a nightcap, and he agrees. which week and I guess one thing led to another. You can literally see the chemistry between the two of you. It was like two lost souls, finally finding each other you laughed from every jokey told. Attentively, listen to every story you had a little girl. “I’m such a horrible host! Would you like something to eat? I’ve got some leftovers or I could whip something up for you.” Arthur smiled at you from his seat on your small couch. That he has made himself at home on.

“You look beautiful in this light darlin’” Arthur says in pure admiration, leaning back into the cushion . His tie was loose and his hair a mess as always but, that man stole your heart. He holds out his hand for you as he hands up. A soft chuckle leaves your lips, making eldest Shelby completely melt. “Arthur you are too kind. I bet you say this to many women?” You say with a grin pushing down to the flutter of your heart. Getting up from your own seat you take Arthur’s hand. Settling down. Beside him as the candle light in the room made your faces glow. “I’ve only had eyes for you y/n. I couldn’t stomach the sight of anyone who wasn’t you love.” You don’t dare say another word, your lips might betray you. Arthur places his hand on your cheek, making your body relax into his touch. With a gentle look in your eyes taking his hand off your face. “Arthur I don’t think this is a good idea.” Getting out of his space you take your leave to the small living room.

Arthur follows after you watching you, but your mind was more focused on the tea. That you were determined to make for your nerves. A rough hand runs from your shoulder down to your hand.”Mr.Shelby….” Turning to look at Arthur your eyes lock. Staring into your eyes feeling like you may melt right there. Smiling slightly to himself while leaning down to you,” call me Arthur.” A gentle kiss was placed on the cheek, next the shell of your ear and than to your neck. A whimper was caught in your throat from this slight pleasure. Stopping Arthur with your hand before his lips could touch your skin. You take his hand in yours taking you both to your bedroom. Quickly you both is rid yourselves of your clothing. It was like a unexpected entity took over you. You would never act like this, but something about him made you want to be this way. Without warning your bodies meet again it’s like two magnets stuck together. Wrapping your arms around Arthur’s neck, a pair of arm wrap themselves around your hips. Moans and groans is all you two can do to communicate to one another. Arthur leads you into the bedroom.

Climbing up onto your bed reluctantly giving the Shelby brother a nice view. “Arthur you’re beautiful.” That’s all you could say taking in his scars from the war. One that stands out the most is the one on his chest. Sitting up on your knees you reach for the mark. Tracing it with your fingers Arthur could do was watch you giving him a chill up his spine. “You like them Y/n? Because they ain’t nothin’ special. ” Is all he could say and a simple yes was your reply, making you look up at him. Only to be greeted with a gentle smile from Arthur. Placing his firm hand on your chin bringing you close. Closing your eyes and it was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It was firm but still gentle, it was like he was afraid to be rough with you. “Please Arthur…” it wasn’t big but it did enough to make you want more. Biting his lip looking down at you,”say it again but look me in my eyes.” He hadn’t even done anything, and you were practically rolling your eyes into your head. Trying to look into his dark eyes,”Arthur please I need you.” Without breaking eye contact you feel him push into you even more. You weren’t a virgin but it felt like it, “ Y/n I didn’t think you’d be like this.” Arthur says feeling you around him savoring every moment.

After a long night you roll over to be met with a empty bed. That’s only after you feel around for Arthur. You shoot up out of bed looking around your apartment, only to come back and see he left you a note. On top of your vanity, “I had to handle some business. I haven’t abandoned you, I want to see you again meet me at the Garison at 9. -Arthur “ and after that it became a system. You two would meet at the Garrison, get drunk, and then go to your place. No dates. No “when will I see you again.” Arthur left a note every morning before he left. Going in great detail how he felt about you, and how he feels like an actual person.

"Y/N! Don't leave me! Please!" Arthur says falling to his knees looking so broken. Shaking your head at the sight before you, here in front of you is one of the most ruthless men in all of Burmingham and here he was. Crying. But not cries of sorrow but cries of deep hurt. You couldn't bare to see Arthur like this. "I saw you with that women! You said you loved me! You're a liar!" You step closer to him on the train platform looking down at his disheveled state. "My Ma said you were no good Arthur Shelby! She said you lot was no good, especially you and Thomas! But I said no these are good men I can trust them!" You say look from the eldest brother, and your eyes find a set of deep blue ones. Pointing at Thomas now stepping over your Arthur, "You can't stand to see anyone happy can you? No, Thomas you can't! Was I distracting him in your eyes, well he's a grown man Thomas! Leave him be! But you can't seem to can you?" The middle Shelby brother can only smoke his cigarette staring unfazed by you. Not only that everyone is now staring at all three of you. "Well I hope you are happy you win Thomas!" You scream in Tommy's face. “No y/n this is my fault not Tommy’s! I should have known better I’m ashamed of myself!” Arthur yells clutching his head. You can’t help but feel your heart tug at you. The whistle blows and it’s time to make a choice so you stay or go.

#peaky blinder #peaky blinders x reader #black!reader #arthur x reader #thomas shelby #fanfic #x reader #babyfacebuttercupfic #john shelby #john x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader

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buckys-little-belle · 2 years

Note

Hey I really like your story's Thay always helps me feel better and I was wondering if you be able to do something where Bucky and Steve comfort little reader after Thay had a argument with their parents. I have a lot with my parents and It scar's me a lot especially because Thay yell.

Protectors

Stucky x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of fights, a small snippet of a fight with parents at the begining, reader cries, reader is obviously sad, talks of reader moving in with the boys (I don’t dwell much on the fighting, it’s a prevalent topic, but it is hard for me to write about, so it’s pretty short in comparison, but I hope it’s what you wanted!”

Notes - I sadly know what it’s like to fight with parents, though mine don’t yell, and I’m so sorry yours do, I do understand and relate to your pain, I do want you to know that me and ‘the boys’ will always be here, feel free to send in asks or message me, I hope you’re doing well, and I hope you enjoy this Bub!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

- - - - - -

The fights were always loud, usually irrational or manipulative, and so was this one. It felt like it had lasted hours, yelled phrases cutting deep wounds, tears streaming, and feelings hurt. “I have to go.” Y/n said, giving up, knowing that fighting to be heard wouldn’t get them anywhere, leaving so the fight could end.

Y/n hear scoffs from behind them as they walked away, grabbing a sweater and some shoes, putting them on quickly before leaving, practically running out the door, the true weight of the fight now landing on their shoulders, tears streaming as sobs wracked through their body.

- - - - - -

“Steve?” Tony called out, the halls of the tower vast, but the super soldiers hearing able to pin point the yelling.

“What?” Steve called out, walking towards Tony, Bucky behind him, the two of them getting ready to make some dinner. “What’s wrong?” Steve asked, Tony’s face reading clearly worried.

“There’s a, well, a kid.” Tony began. “Came in and said they needed help, named you two and held up this card.” Tony held up a small blue card, Y/n’s favourite animal where a normal ID picture would go, the card explaining they needed Steve and Bucky. “Is this a joke?” Tony laughed. “Are people making these for fun?”

“They have anything on them?” Bucky asked, grabbing the card, Y/n had been doing well lately, so he thought maybe they lost the card and someone had taken it.

“A green dinosaur stuffed animal, the poor thing needs a wash.” Tony laughed, looking to the boys to see their next step, but instead being met with them racing downstairs, literally down the stairs running.

- - - - - -

“Y/N!” Steve yelled, the whole building lobby turning towards him, including a distraught Y/n. “What’s wrong?” He asked, pulling them in for a hug as soon as he got close, Y/n crying even more.

“S’much fighting Stevie.” They sobbed, arms wrapping around him, stuffy in hand still. “I’s jus’ so loud.”

“Oh Bub.” Bucky cooed, guiding the two towards the elevator, the doors closing and Steve picking Y/n up right away. “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, his hand splayed across their back, their head resting on Steve’s shoulder, tears still streaming, but sobs slowly coming to a stop.

“Mm-mm.” They hiccuped, shaking their head ‘no’. “Jus’ wan’ some cuddles.” They murmured, nuzzling their head into Steve’s shoulder, him cupping the back of their head, sighing in relief that Y/n was at least with them now.

“We can do that.” Steve said, the three of them now on their floor, settling down on the large sectional, Y/n never letting go of Steve.

“Do you want some juice?” Bucky asked, wanting Y/n to stay hydrated, the crying already taking a toll on them.

“Yes pease.”

“What do you want to watch?” Steve asked, moving the two of them slightly to pick on the remote, grabbing a blanket to drape over the two of them while they sat.

“Octonauts?” Y/n questioned.

Steve assumed that would be the answer, playing the first ever episode, flipping Y/n around so their back met his chest, them now being able to see the Tv. “Here.” Bucky smiled, handing Y/n a sippy cup, green dinosaurs scattered on it, matching the one they held.

“W’s this?” They asked, holding the cup up, they didn’t have things like this at their home so they knew it wasn’t theirs.

Bucky just chuckled, giving Y/n’s forehead a kiss. “We have lots of stuff for you here Bub.” He answered, turning back to the Tv as the characters began to save the day.

Y/n wasn’t able to let the thought go, why did they have things for them? Why here? They were especially confused when they just happened to have a placemat, plate, utensils, and dino chicken nuggets on hand for dinner. “Where’s all th’s come from?” They asked, happy to have the fun things, but confused, did they have someone else who used these?

Steve and Bucky glanced at each other as they paused eating, the dinning table suddenly getting serious. “We know you’re parents aren’t great Bub.” Steve began, Y/n nodding in agreement, their parents were what drove them here after all.

“We wanted to be ready, have things for you, so you can move in with us one day.” Bucky added, smiling at Y/n as he watched the cogs in their head turn.

“F’me?”

“Yes, for you Bub.” Steve chuckled, looking to Bucky as if he was asking for permission to do something. “Come here.” Steve stood up and gestured for the two to follow him. “Whenever you’re ready, this is your room.” He opened a door, the soft painted walls coming in view, book shelf’s, bean bags, and tons of toys slowly being revealed, a bed with comfy blankets sitting along one of the walls.

“What?” Y/n breathed, slowly walking into the room, taking in all of the things around them, their feet hitting soft rugs and floor pillows. “N’more arguing? N’yelling?” They asked, turning towards the boys, their eyes pleading for a happy answer.

“No more arguing, you can come here, you don’t have to stay their.” Bucky smiled, watching as Y/n’s eyes lit up, tears once again filling them.

“B’they’ll be mad.” Y/n cried.

“Maybe, but you’ll be happy right?” Steve asked, Y/n nodding as Steve and Bucky kneeled down in front of them.

“Then that’s all that matters, we want you to be happy.” Bucky added, Y/n falling into him, hugging him tightly as they cried in relief. The yelling would stop, the hugs would continue, and they could play out in the open with their favourite people.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #little!reader #age regression #bucky x little reader #bucky age regression #bucky x little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #steve rogers age regression #steve rogers x little reader #steve x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #steve rogers x reader

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henqtic · 1 year

Text

sick day . xavier thorpe x black!reader . wc: 573.

summary: reader takes care of xavier when he gets sick.

prompt: "are you sure? i don't want you to get sick.." ( @novelbear )

·:*₊‧ masterlist . taglist form . request works . ·:*₊‧✩

Xavier knew his immune system was like an army run by a bunch of soft shelled turtles. The thought of going out to his art shed during subzero temperatures should never even have crossed his mind. The insulation in there was shit, and he didn’t even care to put on an actual winter coat, just the overpriced Nevermore hoodie thrown on top of his laundry basket.

Most of all, he knew you should’ve been telling him ‘I told you so’ when he texted you at six am, asking for cold medicine and complaining that he couldn’t breathe out of his nose.

But you were here, there actually, carrying enough blankets to cover your eyes.

His temperature had been fluctuating for the past three hours and now he was at his coldest. He’d wrap himself up in them like a burrito, only to get overheated once again — and throw them to the floor with a huff.

The cycle would repeat on and on throughout however long he’d stay sick this time — the only difference is, you wouldn’t be to his aid like a personal nurse.

You’d fed him the cough medicine, taken his temperature, kissed his rosey cheek, and gave him a final diagnosis of not showing up to classes.

“I think school starts in about thirty minutes, you should probably go get ready,” he noted, solemnly taking the blankets and plopping them onto his bed.

He grabbed onto your hands, weaving your fingers together as he gave you a soft, appreciative smile.

“Already?”

“Yeah, I guess caring for your sick boyfriend really makes the time fly.”

He attempted to laugh at his own ‘joke’, soon turning into a coughing fit as he turned his whole body away from you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized without reason, empathizing with his weakened composure.

His throat was probably all sore and scratchy now.

“No, you don’t have anything to be sorry about, me being a dumbass isn’t your fault. Thank you for taking care of me baby, really. I think I’ll just nap.”

“Nap? Like. . . all day?”

“Yeah, I’ll get better quicker,” he shrugged, grabbing the remote off of his nightstand to turn on a ‘background music’ show.

It was his version of white noise.

“Oh. Well then scoot over, I’ll nap with you.”

“What?”

“I’m not gonna just leave you here,” your response was earnest, almost like what you were saying was common knowledge.

The soft confusion in his eyes further dampened his features.

He looked miserable when he was sick. Eyes all red, and bags all full. His face was most vacant of color, all drawn to his nose where he consistently blew it. Leaving him would be like watching a dog get kicked and letting it limp down the street.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to get sick,” he said cautiously, sitting up but not yet inviting you in.

“Yeah I’m sure. I don’t care about catching a cold, I care about you being cooped up in here with your terrible watch list.”

“My shows aren’t bad [ your name ], normal people aren’t willing to watch the same eight Harry Potter movies over and over again.”

You scoffed as you crawled in, wrapping your arms around him from behind. He’d never admit it, but being little spoon when he was sick was one of his favorite natural remedies.

“Your brains all foggy right now, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

🔖— !! @mollysolo @pandoraneverland @wxnderingthoughts @instabull

༊ @henqticstudy — follow and turn on notifications for this blog to only get notified when a work is posted ( or just fill out the taglist form )

thank you for reading, every single like and reblog is appreciated 🌷 !

#— xavier thorpe.#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x black!reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe drabble #xavier thorpe fluff

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mistress-ofmagic · 1 year

Text

Around The Realms in 80 days- Chapter 17

Pairing: Reader x Loki

Story summary: You have fallen through a portal during the convergence into Asgard and come face to face with Thor, and his brother Loki. With no way to return, you must travel with the two men and their hoard of asgardian soldiers to get back home. Things get from bad to worse when you have to share a tent with the god of mischief himself.

Notes: Um hello!!! I said there would be another chapter shortly for all of you who interacted with my last post mawahah! I'm so sorry this has taken me an insane amount of time I had about a three month break from writing and Tumblr and I've been very quiet! I won't go into all the details but it's been some ride but I am back finally and I hope to god some of you are still out there in the void answering me! Hope you enjoy this latest instalment, I feel a bit out of practice writing so I hope it doesn't seem disjointed or anything! Hopefully I won't leave it quite as long for the next chapter!

Read this story on a03!

find all parts to this story on Tumblr here

“What about this one?”

The book shop was warm and pretty crowded, it felt like you had been in for hours. Still, it was nice to be doing something normal…right?

Leaning against the wall, your thoughts flitted back. You had actually gone up to bed eventually last night and snuck in next to Loki. You had woken to an empty bed again.

If there was something you had noticed about Loki it’s that he was an early riser, not something you could ever relate to.

You had laid in bed for a while, pondering over if you had made the right decision. Internally groaning, you realised that you literally had nothing to wear for today again.

The people of New York are going to think I’m heavily into the medieval vibe you thought sadly, mentally running through the Asgardian dresses you owned trying to work out which would be the least LARP-y. Either that or go for the office aesthetic again, not something you were particularly interested in.

Finally, you had forced yourself up to face the horror inside the wardrobe (after a few attempts of waving your arms around like a maniac thanks to Tony’s technology). You opened it up and…

You blinked.

Had you accidentally transported yourself into someone else’s bedroom?

The wardrobe was filled with….well, normal earthly clothes in your size. Shirts, trousers, skirts, even some dresses that weren’t giving a peasant girl vibe.

“What the fuck?”

You took out a shirt that you would actually wear. Just in time, you heard the door to the apartment open.

“Loki did you…make me some clothes?” You yelled through.

He came into the bedroom, rubbing his hair with a little towel.

Jesus, you had to get your hormones under control, who gave him the right to look so pretty immediately after working out? If this was going to be a regular sight every morning you had got to stop reacting so viscerally.

“What are you squawking about now?”

“Did you…magic these clothes up for me?”

Loki raised a brow nonchalantly

“Well you were yapping about not having any clothes yesterday.” He stared at you and you stared back, incredulously.

He rolled his eyes,

“Fine I’ll get rid of them. Honestly make up your mind up. You complain about a lack of clothing and then complain when you have some…” He muttered.

“Hey, wait, I’m not complaining.”

“You’re not? That’s unusual.”

“It just…it just took me by surprise that’s all. It was…nice.”

Loki stared at you with his brow slightly furrowed, as if you were a puzzle he was yet to figure out.

Your insides twisted funnily.

“So…thanks.” You gave an awkward smile.

Loki tutted,

“I only did it because now you don’t have to spend any time today shopping for garments and we can focus on my book shopping instead.” He headed towards the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes.

“Sure.” You murmured, rummaging through your new clothes.

Now, you were stood in a book shop, dressed, curtesy of Loki, while you waited for him to pick out his books.

You had been kind of concerned when stepping out with him, that you might get attacked or something since you know, you were chaperoning the guy who destroyed New York after all, but to your surprise, barely anyone had given you a second glance.

People only see what they want to see after all and you doubted anyone had expected Loki to be wandering down the street.

“How many books can one person have? You’re so old, surely you’ve already read like every book in existence?” You moaned.

Loki shot you a pointed look but ignored your statement.

You turned round and browsed the shelf half-heartedly in front of you. Your interested piqued slightly, realising that there were some books in a similar vain to your examinations yesterday; ones that even Tony didn’t have in his collection. A particular book caught your eye,

“Norse mythology for dummies.”

Checking over your shoulder to make sure Loki wasn’t looking at you, you picked the book up and started flicking through.

With one last sly look at Loki, you jumped to the part about the man himself. There was a silly little picture of him looking rather impish, with red hair and jester like clothing.

You chuckled darkly, “suits him.”

You stared at him through your peripheral, trying to spot any similarities and struggled to find any with this cartoonish picture. You wondered if Loki realised how he was typically portrayed in books and if it upset him at all, he was rather vain after all. You found a biography section that you skimmed through.

“Loki has been described as the trickster god…. a shapeshifter, sometimes taking the form of a horse or an old woman…”

You snorted, putting that on the list of questions to ask him later.

“Loki’s relation with the gods is varied, sometimes he assists them and other times he is malicious towards them…Loki’s father Laufey is a Jotun, hailing from Jotunheim.. little is know about Loki’s mother.”

Wait..you suddenly remembered the fire demon talking about that.

You quickly flicked to the page about Jotunheim.

“Jotunheim is the home of the frost giants…”

“What are you doing, mortal?” Loki looked over at you curiously, startling you out of your reading and you snapped the book shut.

“N…nothing. Just doing a bit of homework. I’m going to go and get this book.”

You dodged Loki’s attempt at swiping the book from you and headed to the checkout.

Smiling briefly at the man behind the cashier, you paid for your book and a bag of sweets, and sat one on of the chairs near the door, returning to your page.

“A cold and barren world with very little sunlight…” you whispered under your breath as you skim-read the rest of the page.

There was a brief part on some notable events, including teenage Loki and Thor barely escaping having chased the giants for stealing some apples.

Kind of an over-reaction jeez, reminder to not steal apples on a different planet.

Also something about Loki loosing an eating contest to someone called Logi (finding out about Loki’s past was turning into a bit of a hoot). And finally Thor having to wrestle an old lady?

You shook your head. This was ridiculous. Nothing about Loki’s parentage though. You turned the page and found a portrait photo of a Jotun. He looked nothing like Loki, for starters this guy was blue with white markings on his face and chest.

You sighed and jumped to the pages on Muspelheim, the fire realm, instead. A few seconds looking at some more fire demons made you feel slightly queasy however, and you shut the book.

Just in time, you caught Loki wandering back over to you with a pretty hefty pile of books.

“Let’s leave mortal.” He stated, haughtily.

“Did you pay for those?” You asked him.

Loki rolled his eyes and tutted, but, in his defence, made his way back to the cashier.

“That will be a no then.” You muttered.

You watched him, brows raised to see how the man behind the checkout would react. Just as the rest of the public had, he did not seem to be phased despite Loki of Asgard now standing in his shop. In fact, he seemed to even be flirting with him.

Unbelievable.

“C’mon.” You grumbled once he returned to you grinning rather irritatingly.

The cooler air outside was a welcome change from the stuffy bookshop. Still, you were used to much cooler Septembers than this, and you missed your home autumn climate.

A pang of guilt hit you very briefly, as you thought about your family at home. They had seemed happy enough with the idea you were now working with Tony Stark, and you had failed to mention the whole dangerous space travel aspect.

“Have you got everything you wanted?” You turned to Loki.

“Indeed I have.”

“Excellent.” You moved to walk back to the towers.

“Ah.” Loki cleared his throat. “Actually, perhaps we could go to the coffee establishment you mention constantly.”

You blinked.

“You wanna go get coffee with me?” You asked, surprised.

He smirked,

“I know it must be difficult for a mortal like yourself to believe I would ever grace you with my presence…”

“Oh for…yeah whatever. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant…”

He continued smirking at you, annoyingly. God he pissed you off.

“Asshole.” You muttered and checked the time on your phone quickly.

“I have about an hour…” You spoke out loud without thinking.

“An hour?” He was still smirking.

“Hm?”

“Going somewhere are we? Surely my escort does not have any other prior engagements?”

“Gross, please don’t call me your escort.”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“I erm…” You stuttered.

God why did you feel a twinge of guilt about telling Loki that you were meeting Oliver in the afternoon?

This was stupid, you had nothing to hide.

Loki continued to peer at you curiously, enjoying your discomfort.

“I’m meeting up with someone.”

“Oh?” Lokis smirk dropped finally, his face growing slightly more guarded.

“Prey tell, who is this mysterious figure?”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, let’s go to the coffee shop.”

Loki fell into line next to you.

“I’m curious, just who could have taken my escorts attention away from me?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“You’re avoiding the question mortal.”

You sped up.

“I’m not avoiding it…”

You were only half listening to him, already deciding what to get at Starbucks. Since there was no Costa in New York. Boo. If you were going to get a coffee later with Oliver, you should probably not get one now or you would be jumping off the walls. It felt too warm still for hot chocolate season though…

Loki caught up pretty quickly with his long legs.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to go to New York.” You sighed wistfully as you looked around the streets.

Despite the shit-show that was your life currently, you had a sudden happy feeling flood you. You never believed you would even go to New York, and here you were walking around, enjoying the city.

“This is kind of cool right? I guess it didn’t settle in before. I really want to do the tourist bits before I leave, like the Empire State Building, central park and the statue of liberty. Maybe go see a show, visit Brooklyn Bridge, go the the Grand Central…hopefully if I survive the fire demons ill get to do them.”

Loki looked at you funnily,

“Why do you have to go home?”

You squinted up at him.

“Well I can’t stay here forever, I need to go…beg for my job back probably. I’m running on low funds here and I doubt Stark will let me live in the towers rent free forever like a little pet.” You snorted.

“And, once this all gets resolved…or you know even if it doesn’t, I’m not an Avenger or even in official employment of Stark. Plus this may surprise you I did have a life before all this.” You paused, “albeit not a very exciting one. Come on, let’s go to this Starbucks.” You stopped outside and entered.

“What are you going to order?” You asked him.

Loki rolled his eyes and looked at the board.

“There are far too many options.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty overwhelming. Well, erm, do you like coffee or not so much?”

“It is acceptable.”

“Erm, well there are different types of coffee I guess like espresso if you like a very strong coffee or a latte if you like milkier coffees.”

He rolled his eyes again.

“I know the different types of coffee, I have been to Midgard before.”

“Jesus. Well then, you can get syrups if you like them sweeter or there are options like frappachinos which are kind of more just milkshakes.”

“What will you be ordering?”

“My usual, a vanilla latte, my namesake after all.”

“Yes, the drink you had the day we first met.” Loki smirked.

“You mean the drink you caused me to spill everywhere when you literally pushed me over!”

“Haven’t we had this conversation before? I thought you were a spy.”

“Didn’t apologise for it though.” You muttered.

Finally you got to the front of the queue.

“Hi, I’ll have a vanilla latte please and a -“ You looked expectantly at Loki.

“Another one.”

You got your purse out to pay when Loki swiped his card agains the machine.

“Oh…thanks.”

Loki raised an eyebrow cooly,

“You said you were low on funds.”

“Er, yeah.”

After getting your drinks you managed to find a table to sit down on.

You stared at Loki in anticipation, watching him as he took his first sip.

“Well?” You asked, strangely nervous.

He took a dramatic pause before answering, definitely doing it on purpose to goad you.

“It’s not…terrible.”

“Woo!” You let out a squeal to which Loki stared at you disapprovingly.

Taking your own first sip you sighed happily.

“I’ve missed you coffee!”

“You’re very dramatic about coffee.”

“Well you’re very dramatic about literally everything.”

Loki sniffed. “I am not.”

“You really are. You could win an Oscar.”

“I do enjoy winning things.” He said, proud of himself.

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes. “What books did you get?”

“Hm. I need to improve my Midgardian knowledge it seems so I picked up books on human physiology and theology, as well as this abridged guide to quantum theory.” He snapped his fingers and a huge book that must have been as thick as your head appeared on the table.

“Jesus I’d hate to see the unabridged version.”

“Speaking of human physiology, how is your…affliction?”

You took another sip. “Hm? What affliction?”

“You know…” He eyed you cautiously.

You snorted coffee out your nose.

“My period?” You hiccuped.

Loki gave you a look of distaste as he passed you a napkin.

“Indeed.”

“Do we… let’s actually not talk about that.”

Loki sighed.

“Very well. I thought friends were supposed to talk to each other about intimate things. What do you wish to talk about?”

“Yeah but, you know. You are a 20 million year old alien male, it’s not… well…. some intimate things don’t have to be talked about. It’s not the done thing.”

“Once again you have no concept of my age. Why does me being a male change anything?”

“Well because… I don’t know really it’s just sort of something woman talk about between themselves, most men don’t want to know I guess.”

“Why would they not want to know?” He asked.

“Erm, I guess…well I don’t know really.”

“I could turn into a woman if it would make you feel more comfortable.” He took a sip of his drink smugly.

You eyed him suspiciously, unsure if he was joking.

“Not right now, that might attract some unwanted attention. Remind me to ask you to do that later though. Or perhaps a horse.”

You expected this to trip him up slightly, one of your current favourite activities but he merely blinked.

“As you wish.”

“God, can we just talk about something normal for once.”

“Like who you are running off to meet?”

“Er, well no, not that…”

Speak of the devil… your phone, laying on the table, buzzed and flashed up with Olivers name. Before you had change to grab it, Loki reached across the table and snatched it up with lightning speed.

“Wh…hey!”

“Whose Oliver?”

You grabbed your phone back.

“We met him yesterday, jeez your memory is bad. And don’t take my phone.”

“I have no recollection of meeting a mortal of that name yesterday.”

“Er, sure he was in the lab with Stark.”

You checked his message.

Oliver: Still okay to meet? Shall I come to Stark Towers?

“Oh.. you mean the moronic head-of-starks-fanclub boy.”

“What did Oliver ever do to you. He seems nice actually and he messaged me asking to meet up.”

“Ah, so you are running off to meet another boy.”

You snorted, “another boy, please that sounds as if we are on a…never mind. Unlike you, Oliver actually wants to spend time with me.”

Loki leaned back in his chair and looked at you with an odd look on his face.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Only because I am the only reason you can leave the tower. Be honest Loki, would you really have come out to a bookstore with me if you weren’t under strict instruction to not go out alone?”

Loki shifted and blinked,

“Well I…”

“Exactly. It’s fine I’m not upset but I’m allowed to meet up with people who actually enjoy my company, not just tolerate it.”

You quickly replied back to Oliver to tell him he could meet you outside the towers.

“Your company is not always… intolerable.”

“Careful now, that was almost a complement.”

You sighed and looked around you. Once again, no one had noticed that a dangerous war criminal was sat, relaxing in Starbucks like it was the most normal thing in the world. It felt nice though, to be amongst…normal people going about their every day business, complete unaware that their lives were potentially at stake and you were somehow tasked with ensuring that didn’t happen. God you wished you were just as ignorant, there was no way you fit in with the gods and superheroes you were currently keeping company.

“Are we prepared for the trip?” You asked him.

Loki nodded. “I believe Volstagg and Fandral will also be accompanying us.”

Your eyes lit up,

“Aw nice!”

Loki shot you a dark look.

“No, not nice. It is highly irritating.”

“Well, the more people we have the better, no?”

Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.

You let yourself people watch for a bit longer, watching as a guy ate a sandwich and completely missed his mouth as he read a newspaper.

“He’s a simpleton.”

You chuckled as the guy looked round in embarrassment, “yeah.”

“Then why are you meeting up with him?

“What?” You snapped your attention back to Loki.

“The boy.”

“Oh…well actually Oliver is super clever he went to Harvard and got an internship with Stark while he was studying.”

“Please, Midgardian education is nothing compared to the far superior Asgardian education. He wouldn’t have even met the entrance criteria.”

“Isn’t Asgard kind of backwards when it comes to things like that though? Seems like there’s kind of a harsh class difference, you know, gods vs the rest of Asgard?”

“Do not pretend Earth is any better.” He scowled.

“No, but I’m just saying, maybe Oliver couldn’t have gotten into the schools you went to but wouldn’t that have been because of his states rather than his brains? Also you age so much slower than we do so you have more time to learn things which is kind of an unfair advantage.”

You took a slurp of your coffee.

“You certainly seem to be quite enamoured.” Loki stated, cooly and guarded.

You blushed in spite of yourself.

“I…I am not…enamoured.”

It’s true you were up quite late texting him before Loki got irritated and said the light was disrupting his abilities to sleep and banished your phone to the shadow realm or something.

Loki stood suddenly.

“Going somewhere?” You asked surprised.

“If we are going to head back for you to be on time for your rendezvous we should return mortal.”

“Oh.” You checked the time, he was right.

He strode off out of Starbucks and as you attempted to catch up, you wondered if he was annoyed you were ditching him for someone else.

The walk back seemed to be feeling awkward and you felt bad for abandoning him. Which is probably what prompted you to say the following:

“You could come with me and Oliver if you wanted? This afternoon?”

Loki looked at you as if you had suggested he ran around Stark Towers naked doing the cha cha slide.

“Or not…just a suggestion.”

“Why in the realms would I want to do that mortal?”

“Well I just wondered if you were maybe a bit bored at the towers and would prefer to hang out with some different people for a change.”

“I would not prefer to hang out with you and that midgardian.”

“Jeez I take back my invitation.”

It was quiet between you again.

Aw man this sucks. You felt a strong sense of guilt for some reason and was that…a feeling of sadness? Where you…sad that you weren’t spending the rest of the day with Loki? It had been kind of fun spending the morning with him, even with his complete lack of knowledge around what counts as an appropriate conversation.

You snuck a glance up at him as you walked, laughing inwardly at his outright questions surrounding your menstrual cycle earlier. He looked kind of annoyed, but then again, you mused, his usual facial expression was kind of “mildly irritated” so it was difficult to tell. Loki had the worst case of resting bitch face you had seen.

As you got closer to the Towers, you spotted Oliver waiting for you. You smiled and waved at him as he walked over.

“Hi” He grinned.

You awkwardly looked at each other, both wondering if you should go in for a hug or not.

“You look nice! I like the more modern look today” He said cheerily.

“Aw thanks!”

You could almost feel Loki rolling his eyes behind you.

“Norns above this is sickening. No need to lie mortal boy she looks the same as usual.”

“Are you going to stay here and be rude all afternoon or do you have somewhere else to be?” You shot at him.

“I have far more important things to do than stand and talk to midgardians.” He sneered.

“Well why don’t you go do them then.”

“Well, I will.”

“Fine.”

“Goodbye.” You spat.

You turned to face Oliver who looked slightly unsure at the interaction he had just witnessed.

“Shall we?” You asked rather briskly and strode off in whatever the opposite direction of Loki was.

Notes: Let me know what you though! Not sure how many are still out here lol but I hope you enjoyed! Loki is a master of hot and cold!

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