#it’s almost done. i have like two scenes left but i can’t bring myself to work on it bc im scared of The End. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bb-eilish · 1 year

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𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝐿𝓊𝓈𝓉

pairing: AI!Soobin x f!reader

warnings; swearing, pet names, dirty talk, multiple smut scenes, pining, nipple play, rough sex, phone call, praise, robo soobin, no condom use, creampie, jealousy/delusion, stalking, kissing, blonde soobin. (if i missed something pls lemme know!!)

summary; Your close friend’s new riches makes christmas forever memorable.

A/N: I read @writerpetals “artificial heart” and couldn’t help but picture soobin, please read their work it’s great!

𝓐 gasp is heard through the entire restaurant, you would care about the dozen eyes suddenly on you, but you can’t. Your closest friend, Yoon, has struck gold, she’s been working as a higher up at your guys’ office job for the longest time and has been very buddy buddy with the CEO. So when the former CEO retired she left the company to Yoon, who now has inherited a million dollar company!

“You’re kidding.” Your mouth is glued to the ground as she beams at you, “Isn’t this amazing? Just in time for Christmas too. I worked for so long and it finally really payed off. Now I just need to find you a present.” She thoughtfully looks at her food, the flame of the candle between you two lighting up her features warmly. “Heh, if only you could buy me a boyfriend.” You joke as you poke at the salad in your dish.

“Boyfriend hm? I see…” She smiles as you both carry on, dinner is filled with disbelief as she tells you just how much she has now and the gossip the old CEO told her.

///////////

“Merry Christmas, Y/n. Bring him in over here!” Yoon greets and then shouts behind her, the smile on your face twists into confusion. “What?” You’re confused even further when two men heave a box up the steps to your porch and slide in through the door. They drop it off by the tree and you gape. A box that’s at least 6’0 sits next to your tree now, the presents under it look much smaller in comparison.

Yoon’s smile almost hurts your eyes as she beams at you, “I think you’re gonna love it!” She goes in for a hug that squeezes the air from your lungs, “Yea, I bet I will. I hope you like your presents.” Your nerves flare at the idea of her not liking what you got her because of this unbelievably tall present.

“You seriously didn’t have to get me anything so big, I’d be happy with a card honestly.” She shakes her head at your modesty and smiles, “You deserve the world Y/n, don’t worry about it.”

“Coffee? We can open presents after I make some?”

“Sounds lovely, be quick or I might open your gift myself.” You giggle at her and go to put a K-cup into the machine. While waiting you can’t help but to admire your kitchen, it’s your favorite style and just the right size. It’s perfect and even better with the adorable christmas decorations everywhere. But sort of….empty. The decorations are nice and all, but ever since your ex left awhile ago it’s missing something.

The sound of the coffee squirting into your cup takes you out of your thoughts as you wait till it’s done and put a new one in. “Here, coconut french roast, just how you like it.” Bending over slightly, you pass her the hot christmas mug and go back to the machine. It’s just finishing up your cup.

“Alright, open this first.” You grab a small wrapped box and pass it to her, the snowflake paper contrasting to her red and back flannel pajamas. She pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear before digging into the bright paper. “Oh my god, this is so pretty. Is this the one we saw in the window of that one store?” She asks in awe, “Hehe, yeah it is. Do you like it?” Watching her squeal makes you feel warm, she means so much to you and you can only hope she knows it.

“I love it, thank you so much. Here open this!”

You both go back and forth opening the presents until the last one is inevitably the tall one. It intimidates you as you step closer and dig a nail under the tape that’s stuck at the sides. You jump when she changes her mind about you opening it, “Actually, y/n. Turn around, I’ll let you know when to look.”

You arch a brow at her but turn around nonetheless, there’s the sound of paper, cardboard, and then a button. She squeals happily as she tells you to turn around. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you fidget with your fingers and swing around.

First you blink, and then again, and once more. A man stands there, a gentle smile on his face as he greets you. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. L/n. I’m Soobin, I hope I can be of service.” You hesitantly meet his hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I’m confused.” You eye both of them until he responds.

“I am your assistant, I was customized for you.” That honestly made your confusion worse as you look towards Yoon, she laughs as she begins to explain. “This is Soobin, your AI assistant. He cost a pretty penny but it was so worth it, once I saw how customizable he was, I knew he could be the one for you.”

“He’s a robot?” You ask dumbfounded, he smiles again. A very human-sounding chuckle leaves him as he nods. You eye him up and down not so subtly, his hair is almost a platinum blonde, it sits neatly styled over his forehead. He wears a tidy looking black knit sweater matched with jeans and sneakers.

"Looks real doesn't he? He can do whatever you like, he can cook,clean, grocery shop, even drive a car." She stops to take a step closer to you, leaning into your ear. "And he's made for you in other ways as well." She laughs before getting a loud notification. You stare at her wide eyed as she apologizes and leaves to go manage the company or whatever she said.

"Merry Christmas Ms. L/n. Would you like me to clean up?"

You peer around your living room, the ground is covered in hundreds of pieces of wrapping paper. "Uh, sure. Thank you..." You can’t help but eye him curiously as he gathers the paper and random boxes around you. You have to admit, he does look incredibly real. Especially when he bends over so fluently to grab at the garbage. He even breaths out a little while he does it as well.

“Where should I put these?” He questions when he’s done, it honestly scares you a bit as you were spacing out — thinking about him of course, he’s an entire robot.

“Oh uh, the trash cans are in the garage. That way.” You point to the correct door, he nods with a smile and is on his way.

The coffee in your hands grows colder as you watch him, you’d be worried about being creepy with how much you’re staring, but something tells you it probably doesn’t matter.

“All done. Do you need anything else Ms. L/n?” He stands before you with his hands crossed in front of him. “No, thank you for cleaning. You can…s-sit down if you’d like? We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.” He smiles again and you try not to pay attention to how you gulp in response. Soobin swings himself around and sits on the other end of your couch, looking at his hands as he outstretched them curiously.

“So, Soobin. I know you can do house chores, what else can you do?” This is the best small talk you’re able to conjure up at the moment, you’re acutely aware that he’s metal and wires. “Besides house hold chores, I can answer questions — as I’m connected to the internet — I know every language and am fully trained in multiple martial arts. I was programmed to protect you, as well as be a companion. I hope we are able to get along.”

He smiles at you once more, the dimples in his cheeks apparent as he does so. He’s so human it’s uncanny.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’ve actually been a bit worried about living on my own. Is there anything else you can do?”

“Yes, I’ve also been programmed to know exactly what you are into sexually.” Your eyes basically pop out of your head in response, warmth settles over your skin as you let your imagination run a little too wild in the moment.

“O-oh. Well, uh, I’m going to take a shower, make yourself…at home.”

You scurry off to your bedroom, thoughts absolutely taken over by his words. You were very open with Yoon about what you were into, you’ve been friends for years so it was only natural that the subject was brought up multiple times. And now you have a robot assistant who looks like he was modeled after…well.. a model, and knows how to please you.

You’re going through your clean hamper, as you haven’t put them away yet, when a knock sounds from your door.

“Ms. L/n, since it’s 9:27 in the morning, shall I make breakfast?” His muffled voice still has heat settling over your cheeks as you respond.

“Oh, sure. You can make whatever you want, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.” To be honest, you couldn’t think of a single breakfast food at that moment. Too much has happened in such a short time, you’re still a little stunned. Soobin hums and agrees and you go back to searching for clothes to wear.

////////////////////

You’re shower was 15 minutes longer than usual, Soobin was on the front of your mind and because of that you were in space for most of it.

The bathrooms warm and foggy atmosphere contrasted the rest of your house, it was cold but not annoyingly stuffy when you creaked the door open. “Ms. L/n breakfast is ready, I have made pancakes and french toast.”

“I don’t remember having frozen pancakes and french toast?” You mumble as you step into the kitchen to ogle the delicious food on your table.

“I made them from scratch, I hope you enjoy them.” He bows before turning around to handle the small mess he created. He made them….from scratch? He even topped it off with a few blueberries on the butter that sat on top of the stack of pancakes. The food looked like it was stolen right from a commercial.

“They look delicious, thank you, Soobin.” You say as you slip into your seat and pluck your fork from the table. “Of course.”

Cutting the pancakes was almost mesmerizing, as they were unbelievably pillowy and soft. The taste was so much better than you imagined as well.

“Soobin, oh my god. These are amazing.”

“Thank you, Ms. L/n. I’m glad you like them.” He smiles, it’s so human like it catches you off guard.

He leaves you to eat and only comes back to take your dirty dishes. Wow, he’s treating you better than all of your ex’s combined, it has your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

That’s how the remainder of Christmas went, with you being surprised at how nice he was, even if he was AI and programmed that way.

“What do you do at night? Do I need to…uh…plug..you in? Or..?” He didn’t come with any plugs or anything so you’re a little confused if he has to recharge or something. “Oh, no. I sleep as well, it’s obviously not the same as human sleep, but same idea.” You open your mouth in an O shape as you nod.

“Well, goodnight, Soobin.”

“Goodnight, Ms. L/n. Merry Christmas!”

//////////

Sleeping was difficult the first night, knowing he was “sleeping” in your guest bedroom. You tossed and turned for hours before barely being able to slip fully away. Too bad that lasted an hour and now your alarm is blaring. The sigh you let out is almost pathetic as you groggily rise to your feet.

Your apartment is eerily quiet and you momentarily forget what’s missing. That is until the door opens and he walks in, putting down the groceries he bought on the counter.

Rubbing at your eyes you ask, “What are those?”

“I bought ingredients for dinner tonight, as I know what food you look. So, we’re having your favorite italian dish.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you, Soobin. Heh, do you know my social security number too?” You chuckle, “Yes, it is 892-“

“Okay! So glad you know that.” You nervously chuckle.

///////////////

3 Months have passed since you were given Soobin, he’s been unbelievably helpful so you’re grateful Yoon spent the money on him, because you did NOT have that much. Soobin and you have grown closer as well and you can’t remember what it was like without him.

“And I told him to fuck off because he literally tried to get with my sister.” Yoon grumpily exclaims as she tips her back to down another shot. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was, she was also like 17 at the time.” Your mouth falls open in shock as she nods her head drunkly. You yawn and go to rub your eyes, stopping because it took you so long to do your eyeliner earlier. “Hey, I’m gonna call Soobin to get me, do you want a ride home?”

She shakes her head with a smile before saying, “Don’t worry, I have a chauffeur now. Isn’t that so weird?” She giggles. You dig out your phone from your purse that sits on your lap, the dim lights of the club making the screen much brighter than you remembered. Squinting, you try your best to find your home phone number, turning down the brightness is useless because apparently it’s already all the way down. Finally you find the number and press it, it only takes a couple rings before he greets you with the voice you’ve grown very fond of.

“Hello, Ms. L/n. Are you enjoying your night out?” He’s as kind as ever, it brings a sappy smile to your face as you answer. “Yea, thank you. Could you pick me up by any chance? I took Yoon’s car so my car is still at home.” You yell into the phone, it’s so loud you wonder if yelling is even working.

“Yes, of course. I’m leaving right now.”

“Don’t you need the address?” Your eyebrows furrow.

“I always know your location thanks to your phone. I’ll be there in approximately 16 minutes.”

“Thank you.” You hang up and try your best to stay awake, you haven’t gone to a club in a little while and it’s becoming obvious. Even though the bass from the DJ is basically making you vibrate, you still try and fight off sleep.

“Hey, uh, Yoon. I’m gonna wait outside for Soobin.” You lean on your arm as your eyes droop.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office okay?” She’s even smiley and go lucky when drunk, you seriously envy her.

“Alright, be safe. See ya tomorrow.”

The warmth of having to navigate through grinding bodies has nausea forming in your stomach, it only subsides once you swing open the door. The air feels refreshing as you stumble out. It was like a sauna inside, the cool air against your flushed skin has you shuttering out a breath of relief.

Glancing around you spot a bench to your left and oh does it look inviting. Sitting down, you pluck your phone from your purse to check the time, 13 more minutes. The bouncer on the other side of the door is busy talking, as well as the people in line but it all blurs into each other. God, tomorrow is gonna be a bitch.

Your head hangs low as a breeze flows up your dress, good thing your purse is settled on your lap or else the line of people would have a great view of your underwear. Time is warped in your head and you swear it’s been only a minute before someone is calling your name. Your head raises, higher and higher, until you make eye contact with Soobin. He’s so tall, you love how tall he is. He’s so attractive.

“Ms. L/n. Are you ready to leave?” He holds out a hand for you to take, which you obviously do because walking through the parking lot in this state in these heels would be impossible. “Yes, thank you, Soobin.” Your body can’t help but lean against his figure as you both make your way to your car.

While getting in you giggle to yourself drunkly, slouching over the center console. “Here, Ms. L/n. Let me buckle you in.”

“Y/n.” You smile.

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Y/n. Ms. L/n sounds like my mother.” You giggle once more, more heat spreading over your face if possible. Even more when the hand clicking your seatbelt drifts across your thighs. It confuses you, isn’t he AI? Isn’t he free from making human mistakes? Did he do that on purpose then? Your drunken mind has your memories a little fuzzy but he treats you like a girlfriend, now even down to the teasing touches. You’ll have to ask Yoon about that when you see her next.

“Soobin, can you help the hangover I’m gonna have tomorrow? I have work.” The car purrs to life as he presses the button and puts it in drive. “Of course, Y/n. I’m happy to help.”

The way home was strange, you honestly blame it all on the alcohol. Whenever you peaked over at him you couldn’t help but ogle, even if he was AI, he was unbelievably attractive. How did Yoon know your exact type, sure you talk about your sex and love life with her but she really hit the nail on the head. The way his blonde hair falls almost angelic like over his skin has completely stolen your attention.

The thoughts have your skin warming again and a slight heat being lit in your gut.

“We’re here, do you need me to unbuckle you?” He catches you off guard, you were still mid swoon when he started talking.

“Oh, no I got it. Thank you, Soobin.” He nods before stepping out of your car and circling around to open yours as well. Your legs are a bit wobbly, so when you take a tumble he’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist. You need to sleep, the heat inside you seems to be hotter and it’s really starting to affect you. You seriously just want him to take you right then and there.

“Here, you should eat. I’ll make you something.” He proposes when you’re inside, slumped over a chair. “No, it’s okay. I changed my mind, I just want to go to bed. You should too, goodnight, Soobin.”

“Oh, goodnight, Y/n.”

///////////

Regret. You truly regret dismissing Soobin’s attempts of helping your inevitable hang over. As you sit up in bed your head pounds annoyingly. It’s 6:09 AM, you work at 7:30, hopefully it’s enough time to reduce the pulsing in your skull.

“Good morning, Y/n. Are you feeling okay?” He asks you once you stumble out of bed and into your living quarters. “No, do you know if we have any pain killers?” You question, rubbing your face with your hands soothingly. A hand comes to rub your back as he answers, “I’ll get those right away, are you hungry?” You don’t know how he does it, but you can only concentrate on his hand as it rubs against your clothed back. Even the pounding in your head is an after thought compared to him. You manage to nod your head ‘yes’.

His touch is fleeting and leaves a subtle want in you as he opens up a random cabinet and searches for the medicine.

“Here, let me get you some water.” It’s really not your fault for how you feel, he was made to be specifically your type. The man of your dreams basically. He slides a cup of water your way, “Thank you, Soobin.” Your head tips back as you cram the pills into your mouth and take a swig of the water.

“How about we do something tonight? Just you and me? I really appreciate what you do around here.”

Even for a robot, he pauses, his eyes are wide as he processes your words before nodding. “Of course, I look forward to it.”

/////////////

You’re showered and fed by the time you get to your car, waving to Soobin as if he’s your house wife. You really hate leaving him, his presence has made your home so warm and comfy. Being single isn’t the most fun and he’s really made you miss being in a relationship. That is until you make it to your office and hear his voice. His makes Soobin’s somehow even nicer.

“Morning, Y/n. I heard you and the boss had a fun time last night. Wish you would’ve invited me.”

Sigh.

“Morning to you too, Hyun. Sorry, I didn’t know you would’ve wanted to go.” You swing around to face him, he leans against your door frame with his hands in his pockets.

“Maybe you could make it up to me? Whaddya say? You, me. Dinner tonight?” You were expecting this honestly, Hyun is constantly trying to advance this “relationship” as he calls it. He’s honestly like a mosquito. “Sorry, I can’t. I have plans with my friend.”

He only smiles and nods, “Do I know her?” His question catches you off guard, “Uh no, you don’t…” Sitting down, you turn on your pc and see what pages you have to edit today. But of course, it’s never that easy. “What’s her name?” You hold back the urge to smash your head into your keyboard.

Well, this is gonna be interesting.

“Soobin.”

A beat passes before his annoying laugh is heard, “That’s funny…that..that sounds like a guy’s name..” His laugh stops when you say “It is.”

“Oh, are you dating…?”

Your fists clench at that, “No, now I really need to get started.”

You wish it ended there, but it didn’t, not in your office, not at the printer, not even when you were walking to the bathroom.

Finally it’s time to go home, 5:26 and you’re so ready to do something with Soobin, without Hyun especially. You thankfully didn’t see him on your way out either, which was weird to be honest. He always makes a move on you in the parking lot. Maybe your constant rejection finally got through?

////////////

Driving home was not fun, you swear this one car was following you. They were far enough away that you couldn’t see who was driving, but you know they were following you. Instead of going straight to your house you took a small detour to get them off your ass. Which thankfully worked. The car comes to a halt as you wait for your garage door to open, as soon as you’re inside you close it immediately. Hopefully that creep didn’t spot you.

“Soobin, I’m home.” A beat passes and still no response.

You cock an eyebrow at the silence. Hanging up your jacket on your coat hanger, you find a note on the counter.

Be back soon, getting dinner.

-Soobin

A breath of relief leaves you as you read it. That gives you enough time to change out of your work clothes. The pencil skirt you’re currently wearing might look great but it does not feel like it. Your legs are chafing and you’re pleased Soobin isn’t here to witness you shuffle awkwardly to your bedroom.

Unzipping the skirt snd unhooking your bra had you melting on the spot, even more so when you put on your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama pants and a nice tank top. Taking off your makeup was the cherry on top, you could seriously just throw yourself on your bed and pass out. But you’re way too excited to hang out with Soobin.

Knock Knock

Your head snaps towards the echoing knocking. Soobin has a spare key so it’s not him. Nevertheless, you go to open the door.

“Can I help yo-“ Color drains from your face, why is he here? At your door step? With a bouquet of flowers no less?

“Y/n, I’m glad I found the right house. I wanted to talk to you.” He smiles at you like he didn’t show up on your door step like an abandoned child. “How did you get my address?” Honestly you regret asking, you didn’t want to know.

He laughs before answering, “The only way I could without asking and sounding creepy, I followed you home!”

Your jaw drops, “You..followed me..home..?” You’re sure you’re on an episode of punked or something, this can’t be real.

He nods his head, hand sticking out to pass you the bouquet of tulips and daisies. A moment passes before you hesitantly take them, awkwardly holding them up. “I know you said you had plans tonight, but I really think you shouldn’t hang out with this Soobin guy. After all, you have me and he sounds like a total creep.”

You’ve seriously had enough, you draw the line at him questioning Soobin’s motives and yknow, him following you home.The grip on the frail stems tightens and the stinging pain of thorns is second in line to the steam coming out of your ears.

“Okay, I’ve had enough. We are not friends, you are a major creep. You followed me home yet have the audacity to point fingers at Soobin. You’ll never even be half the man he is, now get off of my porch and don’t even think of even looking in my direction again.” Your teeth are sore after your word vomit from being clenched so tightly.

He’s expressionless until his eyebrows furrow, an almost confused look settles on his face. “I’m not sure you understand, you and me are meant to be. Soobin brainwashed you or something to think of me like this, I didn’t think it was this bad. Come here.” He goes to grip your free hand, his sweaty palm has a shiver of disgust ring through you.

“No, don’t touch me. Fuck off.” The flowers fall to the ground as you try to pry his greasy fingers from your skin. The sound of something closing is lost on your ears as blood rushes by them from the sudden adrenaline.

“I’m trying to help you , Y/n. I know you love me.”

Tears prick your eyes , you’re totally overwhelmed and starting to panic.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” That voice didn’t come from the man desperately trying to kidnap you, it was from him.

“Soobin, please help. He won’t let go.” Relief floods your system and your knees almost give out when he steps forward. “Let go of her.” His voice shocks you, it’s stern and low, you try to not think about how hot he sounds.

“Oh, you’re Soobin? You’re the one corrupting my love.” Hyun let’s go to turn around fully, trying his best to look intimidating. It’s not working, Soobin is a solid foot taller than him. Hyun doesn’t seem to be aware of it though as he goes to poke a crude finger into the hard chest of your friend.

Soobin remains calm and it shocks you, AI or not, Hyun is unbelievably annoying.

“Do I need to help you leave? Or can you do it by yourself?” Soobin steps closer, a gulp sounds from Hyun and you have to stifle a giggle.

“This isn’t over, Y/n is mine.” He says before scurrying off to his car.

“Soobin, oh my god. Thank you.” You breath out a shuddered sigh as you basically fall into his embrace. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s gone, let’s go inside and eat while dinner is hot, Angel.”

You nod your head before pausing, what did he just call you? Better question, should you change your underwear? Because oh my god, that was hot. Angel is a special name for you, almost all of your ex’s called you that in bed. Hearing it leave Soobin’s mouth has something stirring inside.

“Uh, okay…” You swallow.

The house feels so much nicer when Soobin is home, so much more lively.

“What movie should we watch?” He asks, removing the takeout from the plastic bags. While thinking, your eyes drift down to his hands and notice how his veins protrude every time he grabs something, you follow one until it disappears under his skin.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?” Your friend asks concerned.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m fine, thank you. Do you wanna watch the first Harry Potter movie?”

“Absolutely, I love that movie. Here, take this. This is your fried rice, this is your egg drop soup, these are your crab rangoons, and this is your chow mein.” The food is hot in your arms, almost too hot, as you both walk towards your couch. You happily set the food on your coffee table.

////////////////////

Harry Potter was captivating for the first 30 minutes, then Soobin became a little more interesting.

“Are you serious? I had no idea.” Your stunned face has him throwing back his head in laughter.

“Yea, it’s true. Maybe try using google?” He teases.

“Oh shut up…” You push his shoulder, something catches your attention as you do so. His eyes. You’ve never been so close to really study his eyes before. To test out your theory you put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes change into a darker brown with a tinge of red. Like a chocolate covered strawberry almost.

“I didn’t know your eyes changed color?”

“They’re mood changing, do you like them?” He smiles at you.

“I really do, they’re kind of red right now, what does that mean?” You lean in and pull down his lower eyelid to get a better look.

“Heh, it happens when you touch me” Your eyes go wide, hearing that makes you aware of how close you are and how your hand is still on his face. Harry Potter is only a sound in the background as Soobin grabs the hand touching face, and holds it.

The feelings you’ve been holding in feels like water boiling over the sides of a pot. The way he holds your hand, his gaze of red that’s becoming more apparent the more you look at one another. “Soobin…” Your voice is breathy and you’re not exactly sure why you said his name, it just felt right.

“Angel..” He replies, leaning closer. The name once again does something to you. Your heart might beat out of your chest if you’re not careful. You peak at his lips once more, the natural pout he has is calling you and you can’t take it anymore. Meeting him halfway, your lips shyly meet. It feels amazing though, you’ve been wondering what it’d be like to kiss him for so long now.

The kiss deepens as you both gain confidence, his free hand comes to settle on your waist.

The need for air stings eventually, it pains you more to pull away but you must. It only lasts for a second as you briefly make heated eye contact again, your lips slam together in a lust filled kiss. It’s messy and has the hand on your waist tightening it’s hold and pulling you even closer into him. Your own free hand makes it to his cheek.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, this is so unlike the first kiss you shared. He was hesitant but now it’s completely different. The heat in the air is getting to you as you let out a whine.

“Soobin, I need you, please.” Your voice is pathetic as you beg for him to do something.

“I didn’t know you’d be so needy so fast…Angel.” The name has your heart skipping a beat and your thighs itching to rub together, Soobin smirks at your reaction. The hand holding your own gently lets go in favor of pushing you back against the couch. Your shirt has ridden a bit at the bottom, the cold-ish polyester against your exposed lower back has you jolting a little.

“You think I didn’t notice how you reacted to that name? Angel, you’re so cute, y’know that?” He hovers over you, leaning down to messily kiss down your neck, a hand moves from next to you to up the sides of your shirt.

The want you’ve been hiding has you already clenching around nothing as he rests his weight on you, now you’re able to feel how mouthwateringly hard he is. Which honestly confuses you, but he was also made for this so you don’t question it too much. You’re not sure you’re even able to right now, the way his hands feel on your skin, as well as how he’s working your collarbone like it owes him money.

Times like this you’re glad you don’t live in an apartment, the desperate noises he’s already pulling out of you would be tricky with such close neighbors.

“Can I take off your shirt?” He sweetly questions, tearing away from your skin to look you in the eyes. His eyes are a deeper wine colored red you take note as you nod your head. Soobin dips back in to kiss you again before removing the offending clothing.

In pure desperation, you raise his own shirt enough to feel his skin on yours. It’s addicting and you don’t stop raising his shirt until he gets the memo and grabs the back of it, pulling it over his head. The sight has you practically drooling. He’s toned, not too muscly, but just enough that it catches your attention.

“This is so cute on you.” He breathes out, tugging lightly on your bra before continuing, “But I really need to take it off.” You nod and clench when his hands warmly drift up your back to the clasp.

Your nipples instantly harden at the cool air and especially how he’s looking at you. His gaze lowers to your chest and eyes your nipples stiffening, without a second thought he latches on to one and sucks. His tongue occasionally flicks over it and it has your back arching, breathy whines leave your mouth as one of your hands ends up gripping the strands of hair at the back of his head.

“Soobin, please.”

“You sound so pretty for me. What do you need Angel?” He asks, an inch above your wet chest.

“I need to feel you, I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

That causes him to smirk, “You’ve been thinking about me? About us?”

You nod, heated cheeks on display. “How could I deny you, Angel.” He says before unbuttoning your jeans, he slips the zipper down and shuffles them off your legs. Now it’s time for him to undo his belt and nothing could break your attention away. The outline of him is obvious as he works his belt and pants.

“Ready?” He questions as he grips himself.

You nod as a finger slips up and down your slit, it has your hips bucking into his hand. He adds another and is thoroughly enjoying how wet you are for him. His fingers settle on your ever-growing clit and wow, your imagination does not compare to the actual thing.

He scoops some of your slick up and spreads it along his shaft, a couple veins shine because of it and it almost has you coming already. “Soobin.” You whine impatiently, a light chuckle leaves him as he guides himself to your entrance. One last glance is shared between you two before he pushes in, the initial sting has your fingers gripping the fabric under you, while a gasp leaves you both.

It’s a delicious feeling really, the fullness of him mixed with the pure intimacy of it all. He bottoms out and waits for you to adjust to him, “Y-you can move.” You’re already out of breath, the wind being knocked out of you when he simply pushed in.

For the first few thrusts Soobin is relatively quiet, it isn’t until he sets a good pace that the sounds rip out of him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/n. I knew you’d be.” His hands grip your hips to stop you from scooting upward every time he thrusts, the grip tightens every time you clench around him as well.

“From the second I saw you, I wanted to have you like this. God, you feel amazing. So tight and wet for me, you’re perfect.” The praise hurtles you closer and closer to finishing around him.

He breaths out and pushes himself to sit on his knees, your legs are thrown over his shoulders messily as he picks up his pace. The sound of skin hitting skin and your own whiney moans mixed with his gruff and gravely ones fills the room. Soobin takes it a step further and grinds hotly into you a few times. Pleasure fizzles in your abdomen and you know you don’t have long.

The way his hair sticks to his forehead, and how his skin is damp is a sight you’ve been waiting for. How gone he looks as he plunges himself inside you, deeper and deeper. You probably look pretty fucked out yourself, knowing you. His sneaky fingers trail down to your clit and his thumb doesn’t let up, even when you start spasming a bit.

“Soobin I’m so close.” Your face nuzzles into your arm as the growing feeling is close to exploding.

“Look at me.” You can’t hear him very well thanks to the blood rushing behind your ears so he takes it upon himself. His pointer finger and thumb grip your chin to move your head accordingly, his eyes meet yours again and the band snaps within you. Hips buck into his and your back arches, your eyes clamp shut as the euphoric feeling spreads from your pelvis to your limbs and abdomen.

He keeps going until he can’t anymore and stills. Loud groans are heard as he finishes in you and you hope you never forget how he sounds.

“Don’t worry, you can’t get pregnant from me.” He huffs out, which causes a laugh to leave you at the timing of his words.

/////////////////////

“Hey, Soob. My work is having a ‘bring your partner to work’ day today. I keep forgetting to ask you about it, do you wanna go? I’d like having you there.” You grip his arm in a hug as you ask.

“Sounds fun, I’d love being there with you. I’ll get dressed.” He smiles, giving you a sweet kiss before he departs.

The ride there was nice, Soobin just naturally relaxes you. Usually going to work sucks but he makes it better.

“Ok, here we are. I’m on the 6th floor.” You shut your door as does he.

“Wow and here I thought you were the CEO.” He jokes , taking your free hand in his. You side eye him with a joking glare. “Keep it up and I’ll make you take the stairs.”

Walking onto your floor was interesting, couples littered the desks and it was odd to see. Usually your floor is quiet and honestly…boring. The atmosphere was less gray and you liked it.

“Wow is this your office?” Soobin eyes the room with wide eyes.

“Yeah, do you like it? I think it represents me pretty well.” You grip a seat and drag it over to your chair before patting it. He obliges and sits down, peering at your computer screen as you turn it on and already get to clicking stuff.

“I will be right back, I have to get what I printed. I don’t like constantly staring at a screen so I print out my work, so wait here, k?” He nods and leans on your desk. You take a moment to admire his outfit , mainly his hair. It sits dreamily infront of his eyes, sometimes you honestly wonder how he’s able to see.

The printer soon comes into view and you can spot your paper on it as well. The second it’s in your hands you spin your heels and book it, not fast enough apparently.

“Y/n, wait up, let me walk with you.”

There’s no way. You’re hearing things. Turning your head around, you peak over your shoulder to incredulously gaze at Hyun, a soft slimy smile on his face.

“Can I help you?” You don’t stop walking, he unfortunately catches up to you though.

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight. Couples day has me in the mood for some…company. Ever since my girlfriend left me 5 years ago, y’know? And I think we’re the only ones here without a partner, so it’s a match made in hea-“ You finally enter your office and see Soobin wiggling a pencil in the air, that paired with Hyun’s reaction to Soobin even being there has a fierce giggle threatening to spill out.

“What’s he doing here? This is partners day.”

You sit down next to Soobin and he possessively reaches out for your hand, never breaking his glare towards the intruder.

“Well, Hyun, if you must know, he’s my boyfriend.” Your unimpressed stare doesn’t falter as he processes this information.

“You can leave now.” Soobin deadpans, getting up to shut the door. Hyun doesn’t get a word in before your boyfriend shuts the door in his face. You both share a look before he comes to sit down, patting your back soothingly.

You really thought it ended there because he didn’t bother you for the rest of the day.

That night when you’re perched on Soobin’s lap, lustful kisses being pressed onto the skin of your neck, is when you unexpectedly get a phone call. You’re literally humping his bulge when it happens. “Who is it?” He asks, feeling you up regardless.

Peering over his shoulder, “Mm, just a random number. Should I answer it?” You smile flirtatiously at him. He catches on and leans back to grab the phone, giving you a wink before you press accept.

“Hello?” It takes your boyfriend a millisecond to get back to his antics, but this time his hands are on your ass, guiding your movements over him. His eyes tinge pink before settling for the usual red they usually are during certain escapades.

“Is this Y/n? It’s me Hyun.” Soobin halts, you both stare at each other in shock. His eyebrows furrow, he goes back to what he was doing, now, with a purpose and you can definitely feel the difference. The wine red of his eyes change once more, this time a deep purple.

He nips at your neck and it’s starting to become difficult to speak coherently.

“H-how did you get my number?” His hands knead your ass and the button of his jeans hits your clit, you try to cough away the gasp that escapes you but you’re sure it didn’t help.

“I got it from the office’s-“ You don’t hear the rest because Soobin has decided to turn around and drop you on your bed. You giggle at the way you bounce before remembering you’re on the phone, you laugh out a “sorry, what?” before remembering who you’re talking to.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” The more Hyun presses the more clothes you lose. Your boyfriend pops open your pant’s button and fly before tearing down the pants from your legs, your shirt next.

“Y-yea I’m fine. Is there something you need, Hyun?”

You thankfully weren’t wearing a bra, Soobin seems very grateful. His bites and sucks has your underwear dampening even more and an insatiable need falling over you. Hyun says something but you can’t make it out. The man on top of you takes the hand holding your phone and sets it on your comforter, plucking the device from your grip and throwing it into your pillows.

“Got you all to myself now. God, you’re so wet.” He slips off your ruined underwear and slides a few fingers up and down your wetness, getting them ready for you.

The first breach of his middle finger is satisfying, but not as much as his cock. You’ll get that eventually though.

It doesn’t take long for him to have added another and to slam them into you. His fingers are long and slender, they have your thighs clamping together. Which Soobin is having none of, his free hand forces your legs apart and your clit throbs from the feeling.

“Soobin, please fuck me. Need you so bad.” Your hands settle on his lower abdomen, slightly scratching the skin. “I love when you beg for me, love when you beg for me to fuck this tiny little cunt.” Your lower lip trembles at his words and you mentally prepare yourself. Soobin isn’t usually this dirty, but you’re not complaining.

The man teases your slit, sticking in his tip and hissing when your walls beg him to keep going. But he pulls out in favor of swirling his head around your, now, wet clit. “You love this don’t you, baby?” He huffs out. Before you’re able to answer, he pushes in, you throw your head back and enjoy the feeling of his veins and ridges gliding along your gummy walls so perfectly.

“There you go, baby, you like it when I fill this cute cunt up with my cock?” Nodding and whining wasn’t cutting it this time.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes, I love it.” Your hands reach for his shoulders, trying to stay coherent for a little longer.

“I know, baby, I know.”

His thrusts pick up momentum and soon his hips are smacking into you. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine, no on else’s.” His pelvic bone grazes your clit and you’re finding it hard to speak. All that comes out is babbling and needy whines and moans, “That good? Am I fucking you that good?” You nod furiously, hoping he’ll take that as an answer.

Just like the first time you had sex, he takes your legs into his hands. But this time he presses them to your chest and groans at the sight of you so exposed for him. The way your cunt takes him so effortlessly does things to him.

Soon, he notices the way you clench, and how your breathing becomes quicker. Suddenly, a moan that does not belong to either of you echos. His eyebrows furrow but when he makes eye contact with your pillows he understands. He tries not to stop his pace too much as he leans forward to rummage for your phone.

His lips curl in a devious smirk when he sees the call is still going.

“You enjoying this, Hyun? How I fuck my girl? Do you wish you were here instead of me? Getting to see and feel how fucking wet she is, how tight her little cunt is? What it looks like when she’s full of cum? Call her one more time and I promise you it’s not going to end well.” The only thing that’s heard is a gasp and a choked moan before Soobin hangs up. He exhales before he grips your thighs and jackhammers his hips into you.

“Coming, fuck, I’m coming.” You practically yell, legs shaking as you release all over his cock. The added wetness and the way there’s a white ring forming around his base pushes him over the edge, he spills inside you, hips stuttering to an end.

“Hopefully that helps get him off your back, but I’m happy to do this again if it doesn’t.” He smiles, leaning in to capture your lips.

“You okay?” He questions, pulling out, wiping his forehead with his forearm as well.

“Yea, I am. I love you, Soob.”

The sentiment and the nickname has his dark brown eyes swirl with light pink. “I love you too.”

———————————————————

TAGLIST : @tyunlovie @kyrkitten @rencarnationofangel @jimin2014 @starstruckluminarytale @soobsfairy444 @fathersoneric @ethie @rlvslouis @gyulz @woniebae @rjsmochii @wtfjongseong @boba-beom @mybabywearschanel @chiefturtlebonkghost @bergandysam @qluvrv @genshinsoobs @bucketofhiros @dilfjohhny @meikoo

if i didn’t tag you it’s bc tumblr couldn’t find your blog!!

#txt smut #txt x reader #soobin smut #soobin x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt fanfic #kpop smut #kpop x you #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #soobin x you #soobin x fanfic

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Haunted chapter seventeen

Christ. Long one this. NOT PROOF READ. I’m playing COD:Ghosts and I’m busy following Keegan like a lost lamb.

Warnings - self-harm/scars/Ghosts past/trauma/explicit smut baby!

Part 18

Small fragile circles being traced on your skin woke you from your sleep. Fluttering your eyes open you saw Ghosts large hand encasing your forearm, his thumb mindlessly tracing a pattern. Stretching your legs you moaned a good morning under your breath. He leant down and kissed your forehead but didn’t respond. ‘You ok?’ You asked confused, he was more of a morning person than you were, it was unlike him to be so quiet.

‘Why’d you do it?’ He asked, voice muffled by your head on his lips. It took you a moment to realise what he was asking. Scars adorned the skin he was stroking with his thumb, a reminder of your youth. You turned into his chest laying your arm over him, ‘if I tell you. Tell me why you don’t sleep?’ He let out a feint of amusement before nodding and placing another kiss on your head.

‘Remember I told you my dad was a bastard? He made me believe everything was my fault. Mum leaving. Him beating her up. How he and my brother treated me. It was the only way I could process the mental pain I was feeling. Physical pain is easier than mental pain yanno.’ You sighed into his chest. ‘I felt like I deserved to feel like that. I’ve done a lot of work on myself, but I still sooth myself by self-punishment.’ Your voice was soft, somber.

‘That why you had the water so hot that night in the shower? Were you burning yourself?’ He asked staring at the ceiling, he resonated all too well with what you were saying. ‘Old habits die hard’ you scoffed ‘can’t help it sometimes, it feels like I’m compelled to do it. Like I have to in order to move on, because I still believe it’s my fault. I need to hurt …’

‘To make amends’ he interrupted. You looked up at him, a sad smile of agreement.

‘I don’t sleep because of nightmares. They’re too real. The pain, the memories. I know you know about my father and what he did to me. But there’s more.’ You rolled off him and propped yourself up on your elbow. Stroking his face you offered him silent reassurance. ‘Was captured by Mexican Cartel, tortured, they tried to brain wash me and two others. Sparks and Washington. They managed to escape but left me, Cartel realised they couldn’t break me. So threw me in a box with a corpse, buried me alive.’

Your face twisted, you tried to remain placid to allow him the space to open up to you. You pressed a loving kiss into his bicep.

‘Used his jaw bone to dig myself out. Some sheriff in Texas found me. Pretty much a blur after that.’ He shrugged.

‘Jesus Christ Simon.’

‘Yeah. I can still feel the box around me, suffocating, the air was putrid from the decaying body. But, the plot thickens’ he huffs, it was almost a laugh. ‘Go home, see my family, ended up meetin Sparks in a pub n we get chattin. Fucker tries to rape this girl was were walking back. He didn’t, I phoned the Police. So, we get back to his hotel, pulls a gun on me, I manage to get out and get home.’ His breath catches in his throat as his body tensed, he was rigid beneath you.

‘We can stop. You don’t need to say anymore. I … I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry …’ the words fall out of your mouth, worried you’ve pushed him too far. He pulls you tight to him, ‘it’s ok. Nothin I don’t see every day.’ He continues, ‘I get home, see my entire family dead. Fuckin executed. All of em. I’m the only one left. My fuckin nephew, they killed my fuckin nephew.’ His fists were tight now, shaking next to you. He looked through you, lost in the image of his family sprawled out on the floor. The Christmas tree in the background casting a poisonous shadow on the scene before him.

You cupped his face as you straddled him, desperately trying to bring him back. ‘Hey. Simon. Focus on me.’ You put his hand to your chest ‘feel me breathe. Breathe with me, come back. Feel my heart, my skin, look at me Riley!’ The commanding tone in tone voice snapped him back. His lifeless eyes once transfixed on the ceiling, now coming back to life as he looked at you. He gripped your hips as his breathing slowed, his muscles giving out beneath you.

You leant forward and placed your forehead on his. ‘I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry.’ You led there, breathing each other in for what felt like a lifetime. That was until his phone buzzed in his drawer. A defeated smile crept across your face ‘better get that Lieutenant.’

Sighing you got off him and led back in your spot in the very cramped single bed. ‘It’s Price.’ He answered the call, a series of ‘sir’ … ‘yeah’ and ‘affirmatives’ left his lips. As he put his phone back on his bedside table he rolled over and pulled you back into him. ‘They’ve found Makarov. Wheels up in an hour. Price needs us in the meeting room ASAP.’ You sighed into his chest, back to reality. He lifted his mask and placed his lips on yours, he was gentle, more tender than usual. ‘Now where’s my Christmas present?’ He grinned.

—

The last hour had been a blur. Makarov had slaughtered a mass of civilians at an airport in Moscow. He’s found out he’d had a mole in his team, killed him and left him at the airport with a US badge. Absolute carnage. You boarded the plane and nuzzled yourself into a corner, Soap didn’t join you this time. Instead keeping to himself, his eyes locked on the floor as he twisted his hands together. You, Soap and Ghost were on your way to Rio, to locate Makarovs arms dealer. Price and Gaz would meet you there in a few days, they were running a lead on a Russian Submarine.

It was all go from here on in. You landed in Rio and the heat smacked you in the face as you left the plane. You definitely weren’t in Wales anymore. Laswell had set up a safe house for you to run your operation from. Soap and Ghost were gone most of the time, they seemed fine together: working like the well oiled machine they were. But when it was the three of you it was … tense. You chose to isolate yourself away, give them their space. It was the least you could do, after all this was your mess.

Standing in your room you looked out across the desolate Russian landscape. Snow was falling, small fluffy white pieces kissed the ground. You were lost in your own thoughts completely oblivious to a presence behind you. Feeling someone behind you you went to turn around but two large hands grasped at your shoulders. You knew it was him, straight away.

He pulled you into him, your back flush against his chest. He smelt so good. He slowly brought his hand to your throat causing your chin to lift, as his firm hold held you in place. ‘Hi’ you whispered. His eyes were black, hungry. ‘Shh’ he cooed as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. His fingers danced along your hips, tracing small burning lines against your skin.

His mask already lifted he pressed his mouth to your ear. ‘I have a proposal for you’ he purred. His voice had never felt so smooth before. You twisted in his grip, seeing him eye to eye. You flicked your lips down to his before he initiated the kiss. It was hard, messy, longing. His tongue fell into your mouth claiming it once more. He held you tightly against him, hands running down your body, wanting to feel every inch of you. Your nails bit at his neck, pulling his hair into your grasp. Anything to ground yourself from the intensity of this kiss. You moaned into his mouth, the primal need for him ever growing.

Not breaking the kiss he began to walk you backwards towards the small bed. You struggled to keep up with his demanding pace as he assaulted your mouth with his. As he backed you up, you came to an abrupt halt. Your back hit something solid. But it wasn’t a wall, it was living. Opening your eyes you pulled away and peered over your shoulder. You were met with Soap, peering down on you through hooded eyes. Your mouth went dry. All moisture seemingly now non-existent. Swallowing hard you glanced back up at Ghost.

‘I think we need to clear the air love’ he said nipping at your neck. You felt Soaps ever growing erection on the top of your ass. Instinctively you bucked into him causing him to release a low moan. Peering over your shoulder you whispered to him ‘I thought you hated me?’ Slowly he gripped your hips, pulling you into him. He kissed the back of your neck ‘never.’

Ghost pulled off your shirt before removing his tactical vest. It hit the floor with a thud as he marvelled at your body, your glowing skin, which was littered is bruises from him. Claiming you. Cupping your face he kissed you again, keeping you distracted while Soap edged his hands to the front of your trousers. Popping your button he snaked his hands into your panties and along your slit. Finding you already dripping with pleasure. A groan rumbled from his chest as he gathered your juices on his finger tips. Ever so slowly he teased you open with his middle finger. You broke the kiss, a breathy moan filled the space between you and Ghost.

Keeping your eyes locked on his you felt paralysed with pleasure, Ghost watched as your eyes screwed together tightly. You bit your lip as Soap added a second finger, his hand traced your jaw before he pulled on your bottom lip. You nipped at his thumb pad before licking it base to tip. ‘I want you to come undone. I wanna hear you. I want to destroy you’ Ghosts voice slipped into your mind, taking complete control. You’d do anything for him. There was no doubt in your mind who was in charge here.

Soap was quiet, focused on tearing an orgasm from you. You felt close, between his fingers inside you and his palm rubbing along your clit you felt the closest to heaven as you could. Ghost gripped your throat a broken moan came from your chest as you clawed at his back. ‘Fuck,fuck,fuck’ you moaned into his chest. ‘That’s it. Let me hear you. Let me hear how pathetic you are.’

Fuck you loved it when he degraded you. When he make you feel weak and small. You were close, Soap could feel it on his fingers, you were becoming tighter and tighter. ‘Do it. Cum on Johnnys fingers love. Let him feel your cunt cum for him.’ He tightened his grip on your throat as you frantically chased your high.

‘Jesus Christ’ Soap whimpered breathlessly into your neck, your ass still rolling into him. You came fast and you came hard. You threw your head back onto Soaps shoulder, panting, shaking. He removed his fingers and brought them to your mouth. Locking eyes with Ghost you sucked your juices from Soaps fingers. ‘Fuckin hell’ was all Ghost was able to muster. Seeing you come undone like that, sweat glistened on your forehead from the heat between them. ‘Get on the bed so I can fuck your cunt.’

Releasing you, you stumbled over to the bed completely blissed out already. Removing your boots and trousers you led on the bed awaiting instruction. Ghost pulled his trousers down slightly before freeing his engorged cock. He enjoyed the power imbalance of you completely naked with he and Soap remaining dressed. He wasn’t in the mood for foreplay, he wanted to wreck you. Flipping you onto your hands and knees he landed the palm of his hand across your ass cheek. A crack of skin on skin echoed in the room. A defiant giggle left your lips as you smiled up at Soap who stood in-front of you.

Ghost pressed his leaking tip against you aching cunt, as he lined himself up and pushed into you. The stretch burnt, your pussy already overstimulated. Soap lifted your chin, his cock met your gaze as you bit your lip. You’d always wanted to go to Paris. You stuck your tongue out as he tapped it lightly. Taking it in your mouth you began sucking and trying to establish a rhythm.

Ghost dug his fingers into your hips, surely bruising you. Not that you cared. He settled into a lunge position, enabling him to thrust into you deeper. Harder. Faster. He pace was brutal. His body pounded against yours, god it hurt, but it felt so good. Your moans bordered on pornographic but was music to his ears. The cracks in your voice, the whimpers, the panting, it spurred him on. He needed you so bad, you were like heroin to him. If he could he’d inject your moans into his veins.

Soap cradled the back of your head as a flurry of praise and expletives dribbled from his lips. He’d missed you. He was still hurting but this? Reopening the wounds had never felt so good. The way your tongue felt on the base of his cock, how your saliva dropped from your mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Christ. It would be permanently engraved in his mind. ‘Fuck, so good, so good’ he panted ‘almost there.’

Ghost had wrapped his arm around your waist and was rubbing your clit. Small, firm, circles. The sensation was beyond words, the feeling of them having completing power over you? Was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Ghost upped his pace, he pushed an arch into your back, he watched as your muscles tensed beneath him. ‘Turn over.’

Pulling out you gasped and the sudden empty feeling. Tears pricked at your eyes from the loss of contact. Falling onto your back Ghost lifted your ankles to his shoulders as he re-entered you. Stretching you out again. ‘Good girl … doing so well for me.’ You clenched at the praise sending shockwaves up his spine. He watched as your breast bounced in time with his thrusts, how your eyes were blown out. A filthy grin adorned your lips as you looked up at him through thick lashes.

Soap found your mouth again, pushing back in, feeling the warm walls of your mouth on his sensitive skin. He watched as Ghost fucked you, the sound of your arousal filled the room. Fuck you were so wet. He watched as his cock slid down your throat, bulging, full of him. He caressed your neck, it was gentle, tender, loving. Johnny all over. ‘Gonna cum hen, gonna … ‘ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before he came. Ribbons of cum dropped down your throat as you swallowed. Wanting to take all of him. He withdrew allowing you to breathe. You gasped as he pulled out of your mouth. He planted a firm kiss on your lips as Ghost continued fucking you.

‘Cum for me Simon. Please,please,please’ you begged. You whined as he buried himself deep in your needy cunt. His voice cracked as he whimpered your name, your real name. As he let himself come undone. He reached up to your neck as you felt you second orgasm on the horizon. You were on the precipice of going borderline insane. Feeling your self clench around him you arched your back, mouth open as you moaned and moaned. Repeating his name like some kind of mantra. Ghost rode out his high, gripped onto your ankles, watching as you rambled his name. How it fell so sweetly from your swollen lips.

Soap withdrew, leaving you both alone as he went to go shower. Ghost dropped your ankles and crept forward, his leaning down by the side of your head. He claimed your lips once more, wrapping your arms around him you let slip those three words again. You tried not to say it much, in fear of freaking him out. But what you didn’t expect was for him to say it back, able to hear him this time. ‘Don’t ever leave me?’ He asked desperately. All signs of Ghost now gone. This was Simon, innocent and childlike Simon. You pressed your lips into his with a smile, ‘Never.’

——

A/N: ALL ABOARD FOR PARIS. Does it go? I dunno. But I wanted it in there. I wanna be them ok? Coming to the end soon! Onto 2009 MW2 timeline now. Enjoyyyyyy

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invisiblegarters · 2 years

Text

Kabe Koji Ending Thoughts

I wanted to give this one some time to marinate, and myself time to watch it again, because I have to confess the first time I was a little disappointed.

Yeah. I left episode 7 crying, aching inside for both Nekoyashiki and Issei and wondering how they would resolve Nekoyashiki’s glaring self-esteem problems, his self-loathing and his desperate need for acceptance and belonging, and thinking that twenty some minutes could never do the thing justice.

And in a way I was right. Nekoyashiki apparently only had to hear that he should draw what he loves to finally get it together, and voila! Everything slots into place.

At least that’s what I figured at first.

But then I really thought about it. Hasn’t he been hearing that from everyone, over and over and over, almost every episode? Yamada, Framboise, Issei...all of them have been saying it to him in one way or another the entire time. So no, after some marinating I don’t think that it was just Yamada saying it right then that did it. It was Nekoyashiki finally being in the right place to really hear it. it wasn’t a case of one and done - it was more a slow realization, the words sinking in and biding their time until Nekoyashiki was finally at a place where he was able to listen to them.

The time skip of a few months was another sneaky way to get past showing the inevitable work that he’d have to put in to truly resolving his issues, but honestly it’s a 24 minute show and I think we all deserve some damn cute after last ep so time skip away, I say.

There was a lot I loved about this ep. Framboise being his fabulous self, seeing the look of satisfaction on Nekoyashiki’s face and knowing that he’d done something he was proud of. The manga being about Issei and him, and how doing that was what finally made him calm and okay with whatever. It was lovely seeing him finally settled in his own skin. Tsubasa showing up to get the manga and bring it back to Issei (that mask did not one thing to really hide who he was - I know Yamada clocked him because my girl is smart). Issei crying as he reads it (and oh, that shot of Nekoyashiki holding the please recognize me sign and looking all shy, I liked that). Issei walking right back out of the closet that his well-meaning reporter friend put him back in after he was dragged out by the other one’s scoop. I really loved that. I loved him putting his money where his mouth is, so to speak, and choosing love - both in his personal and professional life. I loved the rest of Shiny Smile encouraging him.

I liked that it was Tsubasa who did the thing, too, because Issei helped him out when he was at his lowest. He can pretend he doesn’t care all he wants but that’s such a lie, and this proved it.

I also liked that the reporter did his own part to try to help. I love that Issei won two of the grumpiest people he knows over just by being kind and sunny and genuine with them.

I am sad that Framboise didn’t fulfill his dream of getting Nekoyashiki to the get together, but there is always next Comic King. He got a yes once, I fully believe that the man will be more tenacious than ever and get a second one, even if Nekoyashiki makes a bit of a fuss (he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t make a bit of a fuss anyway. That’s why we love him).

The scene between Issei and Nekoyashiki was very sweet and I loved it, aside from the spinny cam. Can we just not do the spinning please? My poor head can’t take it. I’m not even disappointed with no kiss, the handhold was adorable and Nekoyashiki’s whispered “I like you, too” felt almost like getting one after all. And I liked the implication that they’re living together in the end (and aw, the Issei stalker wall is back up. I swear Nekoyashiki found the one man in the world who isn’t fazed by that. What a keeper).

All in all I thought this was a gem of a show, and actually moved me more than some more “serious” dramas have in the past. 9/10, would recommend. I’m gonna miss this Monday treat.

#Kabe-Koji-Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to be Recognized #Kabe Sa Doujin Sakka no Neko Yashiki-kun wa Shouninyokkyuu wo Kojiraseteiru

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Inner Conflict

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Sam and Bucky being idiots, Mentions of PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression

A/N: Here’s Part Three to my FATWS Series, which I’m making a masterlist for that you can find Here.

Uh…it’s a little long, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t even encompass the whole second episode, only the first half, so a Part 3.5 will be coming out later today probably (it’s my day off work so I have all day to relax and write!) I tried not doing a line for line rewrite of the episode, but there are quotes from the show in here. Mostly it’s Reader’s thoughts and feelings towards what’s happening while conversations are going on around. Reader’s backstory is a bit more unfurled. It’s more action packed and more scene-for-scene of the episode than the previous two. Less emotions shared and less hurt/comfort type of thing, but that’ll be back in the next part probably along with more scenes not in the show. The next part I’m planning won’t be as long, it’ll mainly just be the Couples Therapy scene and a bit more angst with her and Sam and her and Bucky.

Because there’s four more episodes and I don’t know what’s going to happen in them, I’m kinda hesitant on spilling out exactly what is going on with the Reader and what her role was on the original team, but we’ll get there. Also, I wasn’t expecting to be writing multiple pieces for one episode, but if the other episodes are as packed as this one, prepare yourself for more parts than anticipated. We’re already on Part 3 and I’ve got Part 3.5 coming. Just bare with me as I don’t know what’s going to happen in future episodes! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

(Not beta’d so excuse any mistakes.)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Walking out of the shower, ruffling a towel through your hair to dry it off, you froze at the sound of the TV. A sigh left your lips. It’s all he’d been doing the last few days - watching the news. Keeping up with the tour for the new Captain America.

You peeked out of the small bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the floor, brow creased as he watched John Walker talk to the Good Morning America hostess.

“You shouldn’t be watching that.” You spoke up, leaning on the doorway, still patting your hair dry. He glanced over to you, taking in the towel wrapped around you, before looking back at the TV. Seeing you like that wasn’t anything new. “Buck, I’m serious. Brooding over it won’t make anything better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

You let out a sigh, shifting your feet and biting your lip as you thought about how to respond. “I-I haven’t figured it out yet. But obsessing over the new guy-”

“Aren’t you mad?”

You frowned at his question, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I told you already that I am.”

He tilted his head, which he did when he was confused, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you show it? Why aren’t you screaming or cursing or crying or something? You, of all people-”

“Because it won’t help anything, Buck.” You shook your head, pushing off the wall. “I want to. But if I let myself go down that road…” Dropping your gaze to the floor, you take a breath, collecting your thoughts. “This is such a complicated situation, James. I’m being contacted left and right for a statement on the new Captain. People trying to see my reaction. Senators trying to get me to meet with him. I can’t let myself snap. I can’t.”

He scowled. “They’re still bothering you?”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips and you nodded. “Makes me miss the days when no one knew who I was; when I was the behind-the-scenes seventh Avenger. But I made that choice to come out, and I have to deal with the consequences now. Blowing up will only-”

“Even though I never met him…he feels like a brother.”

That one statement stopped you in your tracks. Bucky’s head whipped back to the TV, his jaw ticking, his nose scrunching up.

“Did he really just say that?”

Bucky merely nodded, his chest heaving as he tried getting his breathing under control. “Feel like snapping now?”

You purse your lips as you held in the tears stinging your eyes. After composing yourself, you moved over and grabbed the remote, letting out a tiny sniffle as you did so. You tentatively touched Bucky’s shoulder, silently asking him if he needed anything from you. His response was to open his arms, so you quickly got down besides him to hold him.

“He is my brother, doll.”

“I know, Buck.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head, which rested against your bare shoulder.

Your bare knees are pressed harshly against the wooden panels of the floor, and you’re twisted awkwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. As long as he was comfortable, you would take the uncomfortable position. As long as he was being held, you would take the soreness it would leave. As long as you could help him be some sort of okay, you would take not being okay in this position.

You two sat like that for a few more moments before your phone buzzed. You gave a sigh, pulling back and holding his cheeks in either hand. He wasn’t crying, although he was on the verge of doing so. You’d seen him cry before, so you knew he didn’t mind. For you it was a different story.

Bucky had maybe seen you cry twice since the whole Blip thing went down. And one of them was over the phone, so he didn’t see it so much as he heard it. You didn’t let yourself cry in front of him. Or anyone, for that matter. It was a part of you. The only person you ever felt comfortable enough around to cry in front of…wasn’t there. And you couldn’t change that.

“We’ll figure it out.” You told him, nodding gently and letting a small, sad smile quirk the corners of your lips up. “Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The clench in his jaw loosened as your fingers worked circles into the hinge, making him relax and nod back. You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing up, moving across the room to where your phone was on the counter. You assumed it’d be another government official or news reporter, so you were slightly shocked to see ‘Sammy’ flashing up at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read his message, a slight pout forming on your face.

“Doll?” Toned arms wrapped around you, warm and cool, his chin setting on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sam. He needs my help with something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned in his arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged, licking his lips. “You might need help.”

“Bucky, you can’t go if you’re just going to yell at him.”

“I won’t.”

You studied his features. He was lying, you knew that. Of course he was going to snap at Sam for giving up the shield. He was mad and they got on each others’ nerves every chance they could find, so of course he was going to.

But you still found yourself saying yes and telling him to go pack a bag. You were never able to say no to Steve and it seemed that got passed on. What a nuisance it was.

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

And you were so right. It was the first thing he said once Sam came into view coming down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“James.” You squeezed the hand he was holding, voice pleading for him not to do this right now. He huffed, stepping back to let you greet Sam properly, giving the man a hug. “Hi, Sammy.”

“It’s been a while.” Sam commented, pulling back and holding you by the shoulders. “You look good. Not that you’ve ever looked otherwise.”

You gave him a small smile. “You do too.”

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s short notice, but-”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really.” You insist.

Sam nodded, before eyeing Bucky. “Did you have to bring him?”

“Samuel-”

“This is wrong.” Bucky cut in, staring Sam down, falling into step besides him as the man started heading outside.

“James-”

“Hey, hey. Look. I’m working, all right?”

You rolled your eyes as the two started arguing, stopping your stride to take a breather. You used to joke about babysitting them, but it didn’t feel like a joke anymore and you were getting tired of it. All the bickering for no reason. The contempt they held for one another. Steve made you promise that you would look out for them, and you were trying, but they weren’t making it easy.

When you joined them again, you raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation turned. How the hell did they get from arguing about the shield to what a wizard is?

“Ahh! Haha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat!”

You gave Sam a look as he babbled about how he was right. “Sorcerer Mickey has a hat. Isn’t that, like, how he gets his powers and everything?”

Bucky grinned at you. “Thank you!”

“Excuse you!” Sam scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “We were having a conversation!”

“Yeah. A stupid conversation I just ended. Now I’m gonna be in the plane. Feel free to join me when you’re done being idiots.”

They both spluttered, but you were already walking away, leaving no room for arguments. As you loaded onto the plane, you spotted the Lieutenant whom Sam mentioned who had been helping him out with missions. Torres, you thought, remembering his name from a previous phone call with your friend.

“You Lieutenant Torres?” You asked, walking up to him.

He blinked, before his eyes widened, a grin appearing on his face. He seemed young, which you were perfectly okay with considering you’ve been working alongside old men for the past decade. It was always nice to work with a fresh face, which you found after you started working with Wanda and Peter.

The thought of the two youngest members made you falter, not having heard from either of them since Christmas almost six months prior, but you quickly recovered yourself, shaking away the worries you had for them.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N! I’m a huge fan! I’ve read all your files!”

Chuckling a little, you held out your hand. “Most of those are heavily classified.”

He ducked his head with a little blush, rubbing the back of his neck after shaking your hand. “I, uh, I might’ve…used connections.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, throwing him a wink. “I won’t tell. Can you tell me what’s going on? Sam didn’t exactly explain the situation.”

He nodded, getting into ‘work mode’, something you’ve seen in most military men, informing you of their recent missions and the group known as the Flag-Smashers and giving you a file on them. He was in the middle of telling you about his solo mission in Germany when your two fellas came in, sending each other small glares, but remaining quiet.

Bucky caught your eye and sent an apologetic look your way, to which you just smiled at before turning back to Torres.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” You told him once he was done.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure. You seem like a tough kid.”

He smiled, before looking around and jabbing his thumb behind his shoulder. “I-I’ve gotta go, but-”

“We can talk later.” You promised with a grin.

“Really?!”

“Of course! I have a feeling we’ll be working together more, and I like getting to know who’s gonna have my back.”

He beamed and nodded, walking backwards. “That’d be awesome! Talk to you later then!”

You giggled as he turned around and jogged off, pumping his fist in the air. You turned to a grinning Sam and nodded towards where Torres left. “I like him. Seems like a nice kid.”

“He is. Very energetic. A little reckless, but he’s got a good heart.”

You hummed, the smile falling from your face as you flipped through the file Torres gave you. “So…Munich?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry again for taking you away from the search, but-”

“Search is off.” You informed him quickly, not looking up. “Until further notice.”

The plane went quiet, before Sam cleared his throat. “So…no sign of Wanda yet, then?”

You shut the file, looking up at the men whose features were laced with concern. “I’m gonna go talk to the pilot. Behave while I’m gone. No pushing each other off the plane.”

“Doll?”

You were stopped by the hand that grabbed your wrist as you passed Bucky. You shot him another smile, knowing it wasn’t convincing enough for him, but it being the best one you had. “I’m okay. I’ve just gotta ask him some questions.”

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

Opening your mouth to stop him, you groaned when Bucky jumped out of the plane before you could speak. First Sam jumps without sharing the plan, then Bucky jumps without having a plan. Or a parachute. Or wings. Or anything.

Torres looked at you, but all you could do was shrug. “I dunno what to tell you, kid.”

“You’re not gonna do that, are you?”

“No.” You reassured him, shaking your head. “I’m gonna wait ‘til we land like a normal person and take my bike. I just have to pray that they’ll wait to do anything stupid until I get there.”

They didn’t wait. You’re pretty sure they didn’t even think about waiting. By the time you got to them, they were fighting - and losing, might you add - to six really strong people on top of two semi trucks.

Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, oh. And on top of that, the fake was there, throwing the shield. The shield that didn’t belong to him. The shield that meant so much more than he would ever know.

“Hi, doll! Sorry we started the party without you!” Bucky shouted from where he was hanging off the edge, that close to the street and getting his head torn off by the tire.

“I’m so tired of babysitting you two, you know that?!”

“Oh! Sorry we’re such an inconvenience for you! Blame him! He jumped the gun!” Sam shouted, coming to fly next to you as you rolled up your sleeves, standing on your bike, using one hand to steer.

“Can I get a little help already?!”

“Sam-!”

“On it!”

Knowing that no matter how much they pissed each other off, Sam would make sure Bucky was okay and vice versa, you focused on getting to the top, where Walker and a buddy of his were struggling a little bit.

You climbed up to the roof of the semi no one was on, wincing when you heard your bike skidding across the pavement. There goes half your salary.

You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, considering one of the guys appeared in front of you. You recognized the fighting - the strength - and faltered, a memory resurfacing at a very bad time.

“C’mon, honey. You can do better than that.” Steve grinned at you, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Excuse me for not having super strength, Rogers.” You huffed out, taking it and letting him pull you up.

“You don’t need to be stronger than me. You just need to be smarter.”

“That’ll be easy.” You teased, stretching your arms before getting into your stance again. “You’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, who chose to be friends with this dumbass?”

“Everyone needs a dumbass for a friend.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So I’m your dumbass?”

“If you want.”

The grin he shot you made your heart skip a beat. “If you’ll have me.”

You blinked, but Steve wasn’t in front of you anymore and you weren’t in the gym in DC.

The guy caught the punch you distractedly threw and twisted your arm, making you cry out, kicking him in the back of the knee and flipping him over your shoulder.

You went to kick him again, but he caught your leg and threw you against the side of the other semi. You were able to grab onto where Bucky had ripped through the side, but you winced as the metal cut through your palm. Sam had just flown under the trucks, taking Buck with him, and you knew when a fight wasn’t worth it, so you quickly moved around the truck, letting Walker and his pal distract the Flag-Smashers, before letting yourself fall onto the side where the grass was.

You wanted to lay there, to catch your breath and curse yourself for getting distracted. You hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. But you didn’t let yourself. You had to make sure the guys were okay.

Standing up made you cringe; you could feel the throbbing in your shoulder from where it was no doubt dislocated and your leg was aching, the muscle probably pulled when the guy threw you.

“Doll!” You turned, seeing Bucky and Sam sprinting towards you a few yards down the road. “Hey, hey.” Bucky immediately had his hands hovering over you, scanning your body. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shoving his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I think I dislocated it.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell happened?”

You gave him a weird look, starting to limp across the field to where you noticed a side road earlier. “They were super soldiers, Sam. And we got our asses kicked.”

“Yeah, but you know how to fight a super soldier-”

“It’s been a while.”

“Bullshit.” Sam side stepped in front of you, making you stop. “What happened?”

“I-I just got distracted, okay?”

“Y/N. Look at me.” Bucky took your face between his palms, eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. A tired sigh left your lips and you looked anywhere but his eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just hurting. My leg, I think I pulled it or something-”

“C’mere.” Bucky turned and crouched down, making you blink.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be walking. We don’t wanna make it worse.”

“But it’s just a strain, it won’t-”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get on the man’s back, Y/N.”

You bit your lip before sighing and carefully climbing on his back. He shifted you gently, making sure to hold your leg with caution, leaning his head into yours when you hooked your chin on his shoulder. “You-you don’t have to talk about what happened. Just-just know that when you do…I’ll be here, okay?”

You nodded, moving to press your nose against the column of his throat. “Okay.”

But you could never tell them. How could you? How could you tell the world’s longest POW that you were having nightmares? How could you complain to an Air Force vet who served two tours in Afghanistan and watched his best friend get blown out of the air that you were having flashbacks?

You weren’t sure if it was PTSD or anxiety or depression. Maybe all three. It didn’t matter, though, because you didn’t want to admit it. You wouldn’t admit it. No one thought the Blip messed you up that badly. No one thought Steve leaving did that much damage. And you were okay with that. You were okay with them thinking you were healing - that you were fine - because they needed to see that it could be done. That they could be fine, too. Especially the men walking, Sam teasing Bucky per usual.

It wasn’t until a horn honked that you allowed yourself to be pulled out of your thoughts. A scoff left you when you realized who it was, switching the side you were laying on so your cheek pressed up against the cool metal of his left shoulder, facing away from the jeep.

You tried ignoring the guy as he talked about working together and shit, taking a shuddering breath, making Bucky squeeze your uninjured thigh. There was no way you were working with him. You couldn’t. It’d be like betraying Steve and you didn’t need that on top of all the other things you were dealing with.

You couldn’t deny the need for a ride though. The airport was 20 miles away and you were hurting pretty bad. You suspected that was the reason the guys relented, Bucky tenderly setting you down in the jeep between him and Sam, careful of your injuries.

You stared at your lap as Walker and Sam talked shop. You understood where they were coming from, you were always able to see both sides of the coin, but it didn’t mean you were going to willingly work with him.

“I got mad respect for all of y’all, but you were kind of getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

You scoffed at that, finally raising your eyes to meet Walker’s friend’s. “Like you were doing any better?”

Bucky reached over to grab her hand that was resting on her lap. “You know, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.” Walker faced you, eyes raking down your form. Bucky shifted in his spot, but you ran your thumb over his knuckles before he could do or say anything stupid.

“Yeah. I know. My phone hasn’t stopped blowing up for a week. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Walker frowned. “If you just answered-”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve been a little busy doing my job to blow smoke up your ass on national television. Sorry if my saving people’s lives has been an inconvenience for you, but some wannabe playing dress up isn’t my top priority.”

Walker’s brows furrowed and he was about to say something, when Bucky cut in, asking his friend who he was. You were already that close to jumping out of the jeep, when the guy, Hoskins, told you three that he went by ‘Battlestar’.

If the situation wasn’t so aggravating, you would’ve laughed when Bucky immediately told the driver to stop, opening the door before the car even stopped. “C’mere, doll.” He murmured, lifting you up into his arms bridal style, before walking off, tuning out Walker as he shouted after you two.

You pouted a little when you saw Sam still talking to the guy. “What’re they talking about, Buck?”

“Some nonsense about him not replacing Steve. Just trying to be the best Captain America he can.”

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest. “The best Captain America is Steve. He can never be Steve.”

“I know, doll.”

“Steve told me once that all he was trying to do was be a good man…it’ll always amaze me that he didn’t see he was the best.”

You missed the distraught look Bucky shot towards you, the look in his eyes almost heartbroken while you talked fondly about his best friend. The tortured scrunch to his features seemed to melt away at your next words, though, and he held you tighter as you curled into his hold.

“Just like it amazes me that you don’t know how important you are to me too, Buckaroo.”

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wolfwarden · 2 years

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Silent Realms Rescue snippet

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

@a-little-bit-of-ravioli Rav. I blame you for what I have done. This was supposed to be the answer to your last question. (From this post.) It was supposed to be a fun little break. A chance to share a special scene from a fic I might never get to write because of so many other WIPs that come before it. BUT it was too much fun. I could not stop. So please enjoy my little indulgence of 4600 words of Sky Angst, from my maybe someday fic: “Silent Realms Rescue.”

(Context: Sky has been separated from the other Links in an eerily empty town. Over the past few days, he's been finding their bodies, alive but unconscious. Unbeknownst to him, the invisible spirits of the ones Sky has found can move about freely, watching him, but unable to interact.)

Sky trudges up the stairs inside the abandoned inn, wooden steps creaking with every heavy footfall. His breathing is harsh in the otherwise silent building. He hoists Wild’s limp body a little higher on his back, the younger teen’s long hair spilling over Sky’s shoulder.

Down the dark hallway and to the first door on the left he walks, exhaustion and dread threatening to trip him up. But he nudges open the door without incident and slips inside. Red rimmed eyes flicker over every detail in the gloomy room, checking to make sure it is just as he left it. Would that be so bad, Sky wonders, to see some sign of life beyond myself? He almost hopes to see his things disturbed, but no, packs and bags are still stowed around the single chair by the window. Spare blankets pilfered from surrounding rooms remain stacked on the single bed's tiny side table.

And, just as Sky left them, the bodies of his friends lay about the room. They wait for him, eerily still: Four and Wind, side-by-side on the bed, and Legend and Warriors, carefully arranged on bedrolls on the floor.

Sky holds his breath for a moment, gathering himself and catching the whisper-quiet huff of air from Wind. The other three make no perceivable noise. Sky breathes out and moves, stepping calmly and carefully, mindful of Wild’s arms thumping limply against Sky’s chest with every motion.

A stiffness settles over Sky’s features as he restarts his now-familiar routine. Lay them down. He sets a bedroll on the floor next to the wall, leaving space to walk between here and Warriors, before rolling Wild off his back and onto the soft surface. Check for life signs. He places two fingers at Wild’s neck, waiting with robotic calmness. The steady pulse pushes back against his fingers, strong despite Wild's slack features. Don’t let them go cold. Wild’s skin feels warm against Sky's fingertips so he leaves him be.

Next body.

Sky turns to Warriors, face blank. Check for life signs. His fingers reach out to the pulse point. It’s a touch weaker, but steady. Don’t let them go cold. The skin is cool, but not worryingly so.

Next one.

Legend looks small next to Warriors, face oddly peaceful in a way only sleep can bring. Sky is grateful for that, at least. No one is in pain. Not that he can tell, anyway. If they were-

Stop that. Check for life signs. Finding the pulse takes longer, but it's there. Legend's hands are cold, but Sky chalks that up to all the metal wrapped around Legend's fingers. He debates taking the numerous rings off but doesn't move to do so. Some of them are protective, right? What if they're helping to keep him- Sky cuts off his thoughts again. He dredges up that empty floating feeling he holds deep inside, like a dispassionate mask that seals up all the cracks where panic or fear might bleed out of him.

Don’t let them go cold. He manipulates Legend's hands until they overlap right over his chest. The position strikes him as oddly familiar until his mind makes the connection. It’s how they set the bodies for a funeral back on Skyloft. Sky yanks a blanket over the body to cover those hands, holding the scratchy material in place until his own hands stop trembling.

Next one. Don’t stop. You mustn't stop.

Wind's turn. The sailor's skin is pale. Sky pulls over an extra blanket even before he places a hand on Wind's neck. The answering pulse is weak, and Sky doesn't linger on that thought for long. Wind is alive. Sky can see the slow rise and fall of Wind's chest, reliable as the tide. He tucks the blanket tightly around Wind's shoulders. Wind is a fighter. He wouldn't leave Sky. He and Four both. The two of them are in their own league of stubbornness. If they were here they'd-

Sky takes a quick breath, in and out. One body left and then Sky can sleep. He needs to rest or he'll be useless to the ones still missing. He can't take another night where his emotions take control and spiral his mind into endless "what ifs." He can feel it, waiting at the edge of his numbness: a black tornado of anxiety and self-loathing and sorrow that will suck him down until he's sick with fear. Not tonight. He has to be better than himself. He has to be like Time, stone-faced and unflinching in battle. He has to be like Warriors, able to switch off his emotions at a single word and accomplish any task with terrifying efficiency.

One more. Check for life signs.

He sways a bit as he makes his way to Four's side of the bed. The pulse is hard to find, but Sky is patient. He waits and adjusts his fingers. This body was the first one I found. It’s been here the longest. It makes sense that it would be the worst off.

Sky adjusts his fingers again. This body is so small, maybe that's why Sky is struggling to feel the pulse. He waits, then puts his other hand on the thin wrist, checking there. It's fine. Just be patient.

He waits, hands growing cold. Sky pulls back and rubs his hands together. It's cold. It's just so cold in here it's hard to feel anything. He returns his fingers to Four's- to the neck it’s not your friend it’s just a body-, pressing just a bit harder. It was fine just a few hours ago. I checked before I left. I…I checked them all.

He waits. Sky's hand starts to tremble again. Stupid, he thinks, how can you feel a pulse shaking like that? He yanks his hand away, eyes scanning for any minute movement. Beside this body, the sailor’s quiet breathing only heightens the contrast in stillness. The barrier in Sky’s mind holding the numbness in place cracks a bit.

Sky lurches forward and presses his ear against the body's chest. He can't hear anything over the sudden thundering of his own heartbeat. Panic claws at the edges of Sky's mind but he won't, he can't give in to it. It’s cold. He's just cold… Sky rushes to the wall and fumbles for the packs, grabbing at Wild's and scattering things across the floor: weapons, a pair of boots, a hairbrush, a hand mirror….. As he goes to toss a large sword aside, it flickers to life at his touch, a soft orange glow blooming over the steel and immediately warming the air around it. Flameblade, Wild had called it. Sky runs back to lay it in-between the bodies on the bed, careful not to let it touch skin, but he can already feel heat radiating from it and that should be enough to fix this. To fix his friend. He’s fine. Four is fine he’s just cold and that's why Sky can't find a pulse. That's why Four’s heart isn't-

Sky chokes on a cry and forces it back down. Later. He can deal with himself later. Warriors wouldn't cry. He'd know what to do.

But Warriors is unconscious on the floor and it's all on Sky. His hands flutter uselessly over Four, tucking the blanket tighter around his legs, a quick check at the neck for the elusive heartbeat, rubbing slim arms to bring some warmth back to the extremities. He knows he should but he can’t think of Four as a nameless body anymore. This is his friend, perceptive and clever and kind. To strip that away slices into the very core of Sky and he hates that everything he’s tried is not enough. The storm he’s fought to keep at bay is looming over him, tugging at his insecurities and highlighting how woefully inadequate he is for this task. But he can’t stop trying. Giving up is unthinkable. But he’s running out of things to try.

Every movement from Sky echoes loudly in the room, his anxious footsteps, the rustle of his clothes, his harsh breathing. Why is he breathing so loudly? Sky's focus snaps to Four's face, the shadows cast by the window’s cold light painting his features blue.

Did he stop breathing while I was gone?

The thought passes through him before he can stop it and something inside him snaps. He scrambles backward. Away from Four and the stillness and the blue-tinged pallor of his skin. A harsh crack echoes in the room. Sky looks down, lifting his boot to see a small mirror underneath, broken into pieces. One of Wild's things that Sky carelessly scattered. Sky's splintered face looks back up at him from the mirror. It's not calm at all. Not the face of a man stoic and controlled in adversity like he desperately wished himself to be. It looked like the face of a boy, scared and small, trapped in a room with a corpse.

~~~

What is the point of being a ghost, Four thinks, with nothing to haunt? His body appears luminescent in the growing darkness despite not casting any light on the road beneath him. He can’t feel the wind, though he knows it’s there, catching the edge of a rotted window shutter in a nearby house and slamming it shut. Four holds up a hand and marvels for a moment at his ability to perceive his skin and yet see right through himself to the rickety inn beyond. He walks- (Am I really walking if my feet aren’t leaving any impressions on the ground?) -to the meeting place, spotting the blue-green glow of another spirit waiting for him at the main entrance. Warriors stands there, tall and alert, looking for all the world like he’s guarding the doorway behind him despite not being able to halt the progress of a fly.

The captain nods as Four draws near. “Find anything?”

“Nothing of note. Not yet, anyway. Hey Wars, would you say we walk in this form or glide?”

Warriors raises an eyebrow. “Is that important?”

“Yes.”

Wind’s voice breaks in as the sailor himself skids around the corner. “We glide! Did you see that, Four? I definitely think that was a glide when I stopped.”

“No,” Warriors says, “you had a running start. You’d do the same thing with your normal body.”

“No way! I’m a ghost and did the ghost-glide thing.”

“Slide.”

“Glide!”

Warriors shoots Four a dark look. “How is this important again?”

Four examines his boots, pressing into the dirt, but also not. “I don’t feel like I glide at all, but my feet don’t quite touch either.”

Wind laughs and Four can feel a minor burst of triumph inside. They’re laughing and arguing like nothing is wrong, like they can forget for a moment that they are separated from their bodies with no clue how to reattach themselves.

“Where’s Wild and Legend?” Wind asks.

Warriors’ expression stays carefully neutral. “With Sky.”

Wild, Four thinks, would want to see what happened to his body, I suppose. But he’d do more good with us. He wants to ask what Legend's excuse is, why he isn't out here helping, but he bites his tongue.

But Warriors answers the unasked question, looking at no one in particular, “Legend didn’t want to leave Sky alone."

Four narrows his eyes. The longer they've traveled together, Warriors' irritating ability to read people like a book has only heightened. But surely my irritation wasn’t that noticeable. I’m perfectly calm. Regardless of what Legend thinks he’s doing, Sky is alone. No number of spirits hovering about him would change the fact that Sky could see nothing, feel nothing, other than the chill of an empty room. Legend was being useless and sentimental.

Wind and Warriors make their way inside the inn. Toward the room where Sky toils, too quiet and too solemn and there’s something about that room that is just too much for Four. He remains in the street and Wind pauses to cast him a curious look. “You coming, Four?”

There's a burn in Four's chest, a searing heat to rival his forge that intensifies the closer they get to this stupid run-down inn. He'd give anything to turn back around and keep searching the town for clues.

A crash echoes from deep within the inn. The three of them jolt at the sound before they all break into a run, through the splintered double doors, past the front desk, back to the staircase. They should clatter up the stairs, three bodies bumping into each other and stomping on creaking wooden steps, but only the faintest rustle of air marks their passage as they barrel upwards. Down the hallway and to the first door on the left they race. The closed door gives none of them pause as they pass through, three ghostly specters slipping through the wood as they would pass through water.

On the other side, they find Sky tending to their bodies, their real bodies, as he always did before tending to himself. The orange glow of a flame blade illuminates Sky's pinched expression as he bends over the bodies of Four and Wind.

Four looks away, immediately catching the glow of Wild standing amidst a scatter of items across the floor, arms wrapped around himself. Legend’s semi-transparent form nods tersely to the group and Four can see the tightly contained fury building behind the veteran's eyes.

“Who made this mess?” Wind pipes up. “Did someone come in while we were away?”

“No,” Legend replies.

Four wonders how one word can sound so irritated.

“So…” Wind picks his way across the room, careful not to step on anything despite having feet that passed through most objects. “Sky did this?” Wind pokes at Wild, smiling brightly. “What’d ye do to tick him off, Wild?”

Wild doesn’t respond but Four can see the way his grip on his arms tightens, Wind’s forced levity missing the mark.

Warriors passes the both of them, pausing only to give Wind a gentle pat on the back. “Status report, Vet?”

Legend glares back. “A report? On how Sky looks like he’s gonna pass out? Or how he still hasn’t taken the time to eat anything today?” Legend’s voice rises in intensity as Warriors cooly faces him down. “Oh! How about how utterly useless we all are? You want the full report on that?!”

Warriors nods as if Legend just gave him exactly what he wanted. “Understood. So leave Sky be then.”

Legend’s mouth falls open.

“If there’s nothing you can do-”

“You-” Legend’s form flickers to translucent and then the green glow flares. “Just shut up!”

Four holds back, not fully stepping into the group. He agrees with Warriors but…. He watches Sky pull another blanket over the Four lying on the bed, meticulously tucking it around his legs. His stomach twists and he has to look away again.

“There’s no benefit to always staying at his elbow.” Warriors continues. “Leave him.”

Legend’s fist swings out toward Warriors’ face. Warriors jerks back, but he’s too slow. Legend’s fist connects …then passes right through, Warriors’ blue outline fizzing before reforming the familiar planes of his face. It’s hard to tell who looks more shocked.

Legend recovers first. “What do you know? I’m not-” He looks over at Sky as a deep worry paints over his expression. “I’m not gonna leave him alone.”

I hate this. Being here made everything feel muddled. He's relieved and irritated because Legend is being useless and Four knows that. So why does he feel relief at Legend’s stubbornness… and feel like he himself is the coward?

Warriors steps slowly up beside Legend, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it,” he says, smiling at Legend’s surprised expression. “We’ll take it in shifts.”

Legend huffs out a breath. “You moron.” But he doesn’t step away.

Four wants to scream. It would make no difference to Sky if they stayed. They couldn't help him. Was he the only one with sense? The room seemed smaller than Four remembered. He should go.

“Wars!” Wild calls out. “Something’s wrong!” Wild hasn’t moved from his position, still holding himself despite Wind’s attempts to relax him, but all his attention is now on Sky.

Sky’s breaths whistle in and out much too quickly, his chest heaving as his movements become more frantic.

“What’s wrong?” Wild says. Four hates how clearly he can see the panic rise in Wild’s face. He’d seen many times that Wild never coped very well with anyone other than him being hurt.

Legend crowds around the bed with Warriors at his side. “Something going on with Four?”

Anxiety lurches in Four’s chest but he ignores it for now. There’s nothing they can do in the physical world. It’s all up to Sky. And despite everything going on, if there’s anyone I trust to watch out for everyone, it’s Sky.

Warriors reaches out to check Four’s body, his real body, growling in frustration when his hand simply passes through his target. “Four!" He looks up to the Four still hanging back in the doorway. "Are you alright? Do you feel anything?”

Sky stumbles away from the table with a gasp, face blanching white. A loud crack makes everyone jump.

A mirror. Cracked under Sky’s heel. Four’s heart gives a painful thud and he closes his eyes. Just for a moment.

“What is he doing?!” Wind’s cry draws his attention back to the bed. To Sky jerking to his feet, a piece of broken mirror in his hand, lunging toward Four’s unconscious body.

Multiple shouts fill the room as the jagged edge sails for his face, all of them rushing forward. The shard stops right under the body’s nose. They can only watch, specters crowded around the scene, as Sky holds still and waits, all his attention on the mirror.

Understanding hits Four as he sees a faint fogging bloom over the mirror. “He’s checking if I’m breathing,” he says numbly. The words leave his own lips but it feels like someone else is saying them. How odd. At this moment, everything feels odd. Like watching his body lie so still before him. Like watching his friend stretch himself thin with worry and not feeling more than muffled alarm in response.

But that’s good. Four doesn’t have time to be alarmed. He's going to use his brain to help Sky. He's going to figure out the puzzle and be useful and not fall apart.

He holds onto that strangeness, that curiosity, with all he has. It’s better than becoming overwhelmed with frustration like Legend or pulled into fear like Wild. He has to stay calm so he doesn’t go mad. He-

With a soft clink, the mirror shard is laid aside on the table and Sky seems to wilt in relief. His head dips down to carefully rest on Four’s chest.

The five spirits look around at each other, expressions various forms of tense.

“Well,” Wind breaks the stare-off with a forced smile, “that was exciting! But everything’s under control now.”

Wild, voice tight and hoarse, whispers, “He thinks we’re dying.”

“No one is dying.” Legend snaps.

“We’re not waking up,” Wild says. “Our bodies are getting worse and we’re not waking up. H-how long do you think we’ll sleep?”

“It was just a mistake. See? Four’s okay.”

Standing so close, Four can see the details he didn’t want to see before. How Sky has a corner of Four’s tunic fisted in one hand. How deep the dark circles appear under Sky’s eyes. How Sky is trembling.

“Wake up,” Sky whispers, despair written into every line of his bowed figure.

All eyes flicker to Four, the one standing right by Sky’s side. Four feels the irrational urge to throw a punch of his own. ‘Help him!’ is the chant in his heart. ‘How?’ is the answer from his mind. Because he already knows they are useless here with Sky. “We should go,” he says.

“But we just got back!” Wind says.

Four backs away from the bed. “We should be looking for a… for something.” There’s a heavy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach the longer he stares at Sky.

“We’ve already searched the town for hours today.” Warriors’ tone has turned careful again. Four has heard that neutral tone far too many times over the past two days and he’s utterly sick of it. “There’s nothing new that wasn’t there yesterday.”

“There is something. We just haven’t seen it,” Four replies. Sky still hasn’t moved. There’s a weight on Four’s chest like he can feel Sky’s head pressing down on him.

“We should rest.”

“Rest what, Wars?” Legend sneers. “We don’t. Have. Bodies.”

“The mind still needs rest. We’ll take a break and come up with a plan in the morning.”

Stay here all night? Four’s already shaking his head. “No. We should leave. We have to find it.”

Warriors finally looks irritated. “Find what? There’s nothing out there to-”

The calm holding Four together shatters. “The clue! The puzzle!” He’s shouting now. He doesn’t mean to but icy rage grips him fully. “The Din-cursed, glowing something that’ll tell me I’m on the right path! I can’t stay here and watch-” Sense returns to him and snaps his mouth shut. But it’s too late, Warriors is looking at him with that horrible, gentle understanding and Four wants to channel Legend and punch him too.

Sky finally rises and walks unsteadily toward the door.

Warriors nods, “Go ahead. I’ve got him.” He takes up position behind Sky like a sentinel and they slip away into the hallway, Sky unnervingly silent as closes the door behind him with a soft click.

It should be easy to walk away now. To linger and watch Sky suffer is nothing but torturous. But to leave… to leave now is cowardly. And Four is no coward.

He grits his teeth and follows after Warriors, passing easily through the wooden door. “Hey, Captain!”

Warriors pauses in the half gloom ahead, ghostly scarf flaring out behind him like it was undulating in the water. How is it he makes being half-dead look cool? How irritating. He focuses on that instead of the foolish mistake he’s making. “I’ve got Sky.”

Warriors tips his head to the side. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve got him.” Four rubs at the embroidery over the blue patch of his tunic. Unfortunate that he lost his temper. Now he has to prove himself reliable again. “You should go check on Wild.”

“You think so?” Warriors doesn't look convinced.

“He could use some help.” Go butt your nose in there and stop overanalyzing me out here.

Warriors finally nods and steps away. “If you’re sure,” he repeats. Then he’s gone, leaving Four with Sky’s retreating back in the hall.

Four falls into step easily behind Sky’s slow pace. For a moment, he could imagine that nothing was wrong. That this was another day at any other inn and he was herding Sky to bed before he passed out on the floor. Sky was easy to talk to. Four never felt like he had to overthink every word or play mental gymnastics to be understood. Sky listened, earnestly and enthusiastically, even if he didn’t understand blacksmithing techniques or the names of all the local plants in Four’s Hyrule. And Four listened in turn, fascinated and with a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue as Sky talked about wingspans and air currents and old songs rediscovered. Words would flow between them one moment and would stop just as easily.

That was how they worked, Four and Sky.

But the silence between them was never heavy. Not like this. But I’m not here, am I? Not by Sky’s understanding. Again the puzzle teased him. There has to be a way to communicate with Sky. Why else would whatever is responsible for this predicament give Sky their bodies but let their spirits roam free?

Four is pulled from his thoughts as Sky stops his trudging pace at the end of the hallway. Splintering doors loom on either side of them but Sky pays them no mind. The dingy window they passed a few moments ago does it's best to illuminate, but the light doesn't quite reach Sky. He stands alone in the near darkness and unease twists up inside Four the longer they linger. What’s going on? Why did we come here, Sky?

As if in answer, Sky twists to the side and slams a fist into the wall.

Four jerks back. “Sky?!”

His gentle friend draws back and punches again, fist hitting the aging boards with a crack. Then Sky screams, rage and hopelessness and exhaustion blending together in the ugly sound. He hits the wall again and again, wood buckling under his knuckles.

“Sky! Stop!” Four jumps forward and throws out on arm. Sky’s fist passes through, blue light fizzing out of place and then reforming Four’s arm. Sky's burst of violence is fleeting; he sinks to his knees, fingers clawing at his hair as he gasps and then clamps his lips shut to stop the sounds.

No no no what do I do- Four crouches by Sky's side. He wraps an arm around Sky’s shoulders but cries out as his limb scatters into light, giving him the sensation of gentle bubbles popping along the skin.

Sky rocks back and forth on his knees, eyes screwed shut tight.

“Come on, now. Please don’t do this.” Four tries to pull at Sky’s fingers, to untwist them from his hair. He knows exactly what will happen before he tries but he can’t stop himself. His fingers fizz away and won’t reform until he draws back. An angry voice in his head snarls out the truth that burns worse than any wound: “He can't hear you! He can't feel you! You can't help him at all!" He wants to run. Beg Warriors to take back his place so Four can get away.

Four fights down that voice and narrows all his attention on Sky. He lifts one transparent hand and carefully, carefully hovers it on top of Sky's bowed head. "You're okay." Four says, words firm and clear. "Everything will be okay. I know you're doing your best. Don't hate yourself over this. We’ll figure this out together."

Sky’s hold on his hair loosens. He looks up, face blotchy and red from holding back. His eyes stare right through Four.

Four wills Sky to see something other than an empty hallway, to feel a presence in the silence. Your friends are here, Sky, he thinks with all the conviction in his heart. You're not alone.

Sky's arms wrap around himself, blood trickling over split knuckles. He takes in a deep shuddering breath, and his gaze seems to actually focus on Four's face.

"Shhh," Four whispers, the tiniest of irrational hopes threading into his voice. "It's okay." Heart thudding, he dares to ask, "Sky? Can you see me?"

Sky's face crumples and he begins to cry.

The sobs are loud and frantic, grief finally spilling out openly in the dark, and Four fights not to crumble along with his friend. He scrambles for the part of himself that he knows to be rational and smart and useful, but the only thing that part of him is saying is that he knows why Sky is crying.

He cries like someone who has realized they are truly, utterly alone.

#WolfWarden Writes #lu sky #lu four #linked universe #angst #fanfic #Silent Realms Rescue #'no context needed' it says!#me: provides context anyway #this fic is the 6th in line #and I'm kinda scared I might lose the passion or interest in writing it by then #I really hope I don’t #I hope I did ok writing Four #Rav I’m happy you gave me the opportunity to write this #thank you!

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

The Match - Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of matching with your boss on Tinder.

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, boss x employee affair, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected office sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: Hmmm yes, part 2 of The Match is finally out and I hope this did not disappoint 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Am I really doing this?”

You asked yourself in the mirror before making a face, “Of course I am.” You huffed out and adjusted your breasts inside your bra.

After your brief yet tension-filled encounter with James, you sprinted to the bathroom as soon as you reached your floor. And mind you, you did that while wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pair of heels. It really surprised you how your thirst made you do that with ease.

If there was an olympics dedicated for thirsty bitches trying to get some, you’d probably bring home the gold with how fast you moved.

You checked your watch for the time, you still had ten minutes left so you made sure to fix yourself up. Of course, the logical part of your brain was screaming for you to get a grip because really? You were going to let your boss fuck you? In his office? During work hours? You were at a damn risk here; you could get caught or even worse, lose your job. But was that going to stop you?

Hell fucking no.

Checking yourself out in the mirror one last time, you let out a deep breath and walked out. Maybe you were just being hyper aware given that you were headed to your boss’ office to get fucked, but you felt uncomfortable as you passed by your colleagues. You offered them polite smiles and tried to act normal. Thank god the elevator was just a few steps away.

“Oh thank goodness, there you are.” Your manager immediately blocked your way and handed you a couple of folders.

“I need you to make a report out of these. I have a presentation before lunch.” She explained.

You frowned, “I’m sorry but aren’t you supposed to do these, not me? Besides, Ja— Mister Barnes called requested me to see him in his office.”

Your manager used to be on the same level as you were but was promoted a couple of months ago. Why? You absolutely have no idea. She wasn’t the best at her job, in fact, you felt like the promotion should’ve been yours. Since she became your manager, she had been passing some of her tasks to you and snatching away the credit like a fucking bitch.

Your managed narrowed her eyes at you, “The James Barnes requested for you? Why?” She asked suspiciously, hands on her hips.

Of course she would be suspicious, you never worked with James before. But the fact that you were going there for a completely different reason made you sweat.

You breathed out through your nose, shaking your head and avoiding your manager’s gaze. “I...who knows? I mean, I have no idea why. He just told me to see him in his office and that’s about it. I really don’t know the reason, why would he even ask for me? Probably not a big deal, it’s very normal to ask a subordinate into your office, right? Do you know why he asked for me?” You were a blabbering mess at this point.

Your manager scoffed, “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.” She responded before waving a hand. “Anyway, I’ll take care of him. Go and work on the reports now. Before lunch, remember.” She commanded, pointing a finger at you before walking away.

“Wait! But I...” you trailed, looking at the folders in your hand before checking your watch. Five minutes left. “...I was gonna get fucked...” you whispered in disappointment before stomping your way back to your cubicle.

The tantrums you made when you reached your desk didn’t go unnoticed. Who wouldn’t be grumpy anyway? Your manager just cockblocked you on your way to get some D, and it’s not even some regular D. James would probably be balls-deep in you now but instead, you were getting fucked by a report that wasn’t even supposed to be your responsibility.

You were typing away on your computer when you noticed the office chatter start to die down, the loud conversations transforming into hushed whispers. The HR probably paid your floor a visit, you thought and continued to work on the report.

“Any reason why you’re here and not in my office?”

Shit.

Your whole body froze at the sound of James’ voice. No wonder the entire floor grew silent, he was always in his office or out for a meeting. He wasn’t one to visit his subordinates but here he was, standing by your cubicle and looking down at you with dark eyes.

You stood up and noticed that your colleagues were watching, whispering to each other and most definitely wondering why James paid you a little visit.

“I’m sorry, I uhh there was a—“

“Mister Barnes!” Your manager greeted, a little too chirpy, when she saw James. “I was just about to head to your office to tell you that she’s working on an important report. She’ll come to your office when she’s done. I’ll make sure of it.” She said, offering James a huge smile that made you want to gag.

James kept his eyes on you, completely ignoring your manager. You licked your lips and tried your best not to break eye contact.

“And when was it okay to bypass your boss’ orders?” James asked your manager, his eyes still trained on yours.

You bit back a smirk when your manager ended up sputtering out an apology while you and James continued eye fucking each other. While being surrounded by your colleagues. This should worry you actually, the attention you were getting from everyone else seeing that the James Barnes went out of his way to see you. You couldn’t care less at the moment though, not when James was undressing you with his gaze.

“She’s not doing any report this morning. I need her in my office.” James said and tipping his head, asking you to follow him.

You were out of your cubicle in a second and quietly trailed behind James on his way to the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from every colleague you passed by. As soon as the both of you stepped inside the elevator, the torture began yet again.

Standing beside James, a little bit closer now than before, you could feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. The thought of him being all over you in a few minutes was driving you insane. Shit, you were really down to fuck him.

“You know, I don’t like waiting.” He said, turning to you.

“I’m sorry, James. I really—“

“Ah ah ah.” James tutted, backing you up against the corner of the lift— a blind spot, to keep the both you away from the CCTV inside. “That’s not how you called me earlier. Why stop now?” He asked, resting an elbow against the wall caging you with his body.

You let out a tiny whimper, your eyes landing on James’ lips as he bit them. “I’m sorry, sir.” You whispered.

He hummed, leaning forward until his nose touched your cheekbone. “Good girl.” He whispered roughly into your ear.

Your hands found their way onto James’ necktie, tugging him down when you were unable to hold back your desire. But then the elevator dinged and the both of you scrambled away from each other when the doors slid open, revealing a few employees coming from a different floor.

A chorus of greetings for James echoed as they slowly filed into the elevator, pushing you and your boss into the very back. You let out a soft gasp when you felt James’ hands on your waist as he moved behind you, feeling his erection press against your back.

“Can’t wait to have you to myself.” He whispered, sliding a hand down to you ass, giving it a firm squeeze that almost had you keening if not for the company.

Just a few hours earlier you were worrying about crossing paths with your boss whom you matched with on Tinder. Now, you were still worried but only about whether you and James would get caught while his face was in between your legs as you sat on his desk.

“Oh my god, right there...fuck...” you breathed out, head thrown back when James’ tongue circled your sensitive clit.

The moment you James’ office door slammed shut, he was immediately all over you. Pinning you to the wall as he hungrily kissed you, hands wandering all over your body, gripping whatever he could.

James was desperate to have a taste of you, his eyes showed it all. But surprisingly, he managed to make you even more desperate for him than he was for you. He pulled away from the bruising kiss, made you stand still as he walked over to his desk, plopping down on his seat.

His eyes scanned you hungrily as he removed his coat, followed by his tie and then unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling it up to his elbows.

“Take your panties off.” James had ordered.

Your breath hitched at the roughness of his voice. Following his orders, you reached beneath your pencil skirt and slipped off your underwear and letting it fall to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“C’mere.” James said and his voice was so tender it made you feel soft.

It’s amazing how James could go from sounding soft to almost feral, now that he was lapping up your cunt like a starved man while his subordinates went on about their work just outside.

“Let me see those tits. Been wanting to see them since I saw that bikini photo you had on your profile.” James growled, reaching up to pull down the cups of your bra, setting your breasts free.

Okay, maybe you sort of overdid your Tinder profile for someone who wasn’t really interested to hook-up. It was only one beach photo though, but now you weren’t regretting uploading it, not even a bit.

You keened when James pinched a nipple at the same time he started tongue-fucking your cunt. The entire scene was straight out of a porno, like one of those Naughty America skits minus the bad acting and terrible monologue between a CEO and his secretary.

“Keep it down, will ya? Gotta stay quiet, else we might get caught.” James warned, pulling back to watch your wetness drip down from your cunt to your asshole.

You blinked your eyes as you panted, watching James as he inserted two fingers into your sopping pussy. “Fuuuuck, James...” you whimpered.

“That’s not my name, baby.” James said, stilling his fingers and chuckling when you began wiggling your hips to get some friction.

“Sir, please...” you pleaded.

“You’ve always been an obedient one, aren’t you?” James cooed, bending down to lick a stripe against your folds while pumping his fingers in and out.

“Even doing a report that isn’t even yours, so fucking obedient.” He grunted.

Your moan was cut short when James’ phone began to ring, your eyes widening in panic when he answered it with nonchalance as if his fingers weren’t knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Hi, about time you called. You have any updates about the deal? He asked casually as he stood up from his seat.

James went on to discuss business with whoever it was on the other line. And this was all the while you sat on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your waist and legs wide open. You were about to close your legs, thinking that this rendezvous needed to be put on hold, but James was quick to grab your thigh to stop you from doing so.

You made a face at him, incredulous that he didn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. In fact, he started unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes on you.

“Excuse me, can you hold for a sec?” James spoke into the phone before putting his mic on mute.

“Not a damn sound.” He told you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Your mouth parted and you weren’t sure anymore whether you were nervous or aroused that your boss was about to fuck you while having a conversation over the phone. James pinched the inside of your thigh when you failed to respond.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly breathed out with a nod.

“Hi, sorry about that. Where were we?” James asked as he unzipped his pants.

Tinder never really piqued your interest that much. It was truly boredom that made you download it. There have been times when you felt like the app had its favorites; hearing your friends gush about this amazing guy they met through the app and all that shit. You almost gave up on the app that Friday night but thank goodness James appeared right before you called it quits.

If your friends were lucky for bagging an amazing guy on Tinder, it was safe to say that you hit the fucking jackpot because not only was James an amazing guy in general, but he had a very, very impressive cock as well.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight of his cock, springing free from the confines of his Calvin Kleins. It was thick and the vein on the underside of his shaft was so prominent you might as well give it a standing ovation.

James ran a tongue over his bottom lip, taking it in between his teeth when he stepped in between your legs to slide his cock along your folds. That gesture alone made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

James casually talked on the phone as he lined the tip of his cock to your entrance. Placing a finger on his lips to remind you to stay quiet, he watched your face as he slowly slid inside. You choked on your moan when you felt a slight sting from how his cock was stretching you out. Inch by inch, James pushed himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed.

He stretched you out so fucking good that you suddenly clenched around him, making James cough into the phone to mask the grunt that escaped his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “That sounds like a tight plan, Sam.” James said through gritted teeth, looking at you pointedly as if warning you to stay put.

James started off with slow, languid thrusts, gauging for your reaction to ensure that you wouldn’t make any noise. Unfortunately for you though, James was hitting all the right spots and it would only be a matter of time that you’d end up whimpering as he fucked you onto his desk.

He sped up his thrusts, pushing into you with more force making you slide up onto his desk every time he slammed back in. Your elbows were aching from how you were leaning your entire weight against them but fuck, you wanted to remain in that position to watch James’ cock disappear into your cunt.

James appeared to be struggling from holding back as well, seeing how his face was turning red and how the veins on his neck were starting to show up. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, keeping your legs open as he began to speed up his pace.

One particular thrust made you see stars and unconsciously, you let out a moan that immediately turned into a gasp when James wrapped his free hand around your throat.

“That sounds great, Sam. When are you free to meet to further discuss the details?” James asked, his eyes glued onto yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His grip around your throat tightened each time you squeaked out the tiniest noise. You were so out of it now; James was fucking you so good that it slipped your mind that you were at work and that James was, well, your boss— the CEO of the company actually.

James could feel your pussy flutter around his cock and quickly put his phone on mute before grunting, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me, make a mess on my cock.”

His command spurred you on and your climax hit you with no warning at all. The coil in your abdomen simply snapped, reducing you into a trembling mess as you came around James’ cock the same time he let go of your throat, only to cover your mouth with his hand as you let out a long, muffled whimper.

“Great, I’ll have my secretary schedule the meeting then. It was great talking to you, Sam.” James literally let his phone slip from his hand as soon as the call ended.

He held your waist with both hands as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you harder until he slipped out and came on your mound.

“Fuck...” he panted as he jerked off his cock, milking it until your folds were covered in his release.

Holy fucking shit, your boss was truly down to fuck. And it was one hell of a fuck too.

You had just finished cleaning up yourself when you somewhat regained your consciousness. Now what? This was what you were worried about, the aftermath of fucking the CEO.

“You good?” James asked as he sat down on his chair.

You nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, sir.”

“Bucky.” James corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Wait, what?

James shrugged, “If we’re going to start working closely, I prefer if you called me by my nickname.” He explained.

You frowned, “I don’t understand?”

What the hell was going on? James sorted through the stack of his papers on his desk (most of which were crumpled when you ended up grabbing them as he fucked you) and handed one over to you.

“You’re promoted as the head of your department.” He announced with a small smile.

Now you were offended. Did he promote you for letting him fuck you? Was this his plan all along? You couldn’t understand a single thing that was going on and James was attentive enough to figure out what you were thinking. You stared at the formal letter discussing your promotion and then back up at James.

“The promotion has nothing to do with us fucking.” He reassured. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to my employees? I know each and everyone in this company, their performance and how they do their jobs. And you...” James said, standing up and walking around his desk until he stood in front of you.

“I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. You have impressive skills. Your reports are exquisite, you know how to manage a team, you’re very smart. Quite the entire package.” He explained with a shrug.

“I’m not sure how my manager will take this given that—“

“That promotion was supposed to be yours but I asked the HR to give it to her instead. You deserve being more than just becoming a manager so now you’re a department head. You’re required to directly report to me moving forward.” James bit his lip as he tipped your chin.

You were at a loss for words. All this time, you thought that your hardwork and efforts haven’t been paying off.

“What do you say?” He asked, tilting his head. “And just so we’re clear, the promotion has been decided before I even stumbled upon your Tinder profile.” He explained.

You let out a chuckle, still unable to believe what had just happened. Your boss fucked you, gave you one of the best orgasms in your entire life and also gave you a promotion. Talk about good fucking luck, all thanks to Tinder.

“Uh I...yes...I’m accepting the promotion.” You said excitedly.

“Good.” James said, taking a step back from you giving you your space back.

“The announcement of the promotion will be e-mailed in a few. Congratulations and I’ll see you tonight.” James said with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll celebrate your promotion. You’re not just the head of your department, baby. You’re mine now.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @5-seconds-of-mendes @whoth3hellisbucky @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @little-baby-vixen @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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weirdos-am-i-right · 3 years

Text

Fuck Traveling// Pete Davidson x reader

Request from @annalayton19

Hi! I’m a new follower and I really like your stuff! Could I request a Pete Davidson x reader (angst to fluff) where Pete is on tour or filming away from home and the reader is left behind. After like 6 months of being apart Pete starts to get tired of the long distance and basically like done with it. And then he realizes his mistake and comes home to make it up to her! I’m sorry if that’s super long! Also if this imagine doesn’t interest you, then no sweat! Thank you so much in advance 💕

A/n: This took so much less time then I thought it would. Anyway, here you go, I really hope you like it!

Warning: angst, swearing, like one cigarettes

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€

Six months. Six months was an extremely long time to be away from someone you loved.

Y/n sat on the couch, a small pout on her lips. She looked at Pete—her boyfriend of a year—and frowned. “I wish I could go with you.” Pete frowns too, and sits down next to her.

“I know. I wish you were coming with me too. But hey, it’s only a couple of months, all right? I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed her cheek.

“I just wish my contract would let me. You have no idea how annoying it is to not be able to do things because of freaking Marvel.” She groans, falling on her back with a slight ‘plop’.

“Well, because of freaking Marvel, you are one of the best actresses out there. And I know you’re going to kill it with filming. My tour isn’t even that cool. It’ll broke you to death.” He jokes, leaning back on the arm of the couch.

“Babe, you’re a comedian.”

“Oh right, I forgot.” He grabs her arm, and pulls her up into his chest. “I love you, okay?” He lifts her chin up, and kisses her. “So fucking much. We’ll face time everyday, I’ll call you every evening and wish you goodnight.”

“Okay.” She looked over a the clock, and sighed. “We have to go. Your flight is leaving soon.” He brushes hair behind her ear, bringing her eyes back to him.

“I love you. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I love you, too.”

********

The car ride to the airport was long, and quiet. Pete was driving, he had one hand on the steering wheel, and one hand on Y/n’s leg, rubbing small circles into the center of her thigh.

She knew she was going to miss him so much, but she also knew she was going to be extremely busy with filming, so it wouldn’t be as bad.

Once they were at the gate, they tearfully hugged, and she kissed him. “All right, now get out of here. We’re not doing that rom-com turn back at the last second goodbye.” She laughed at him, tears steaming down her face a bit. He wiped one with his thumb, and kissed her again. “Love you. Now go, so I get to watch you walk away.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She turns around, and starts walking back to her car. She knew he hated leaving her too, but he was a lot better at hiding emotions then she was, that was one of the only things she learned while dating him.

She got in her car, and put her head on her steering wheel.

She groans, and leans back. Starting her car, she pulled out of the airport, and drove home.

**********

The first few months were the worst. Y/n hated going to bed alone, the left side of the bed always cold.

She was filming almost every day, and seeing her co-workers and friends always cheered her up, after all she had been working with the same people for quite some time now, so she felt comfortable around them.

The fourth month was slowly becoming easier. She got use to coming home to no one there, and making dinner for herself. She still talked to Pete every day, texting him good morning, and Goodnight, and FaceTiming him a lot during the day.

Though she knew he loved her, she felt as though he was slightly pulling away. The FaceTime calls were short, and he never texted her back right away like he use to.

“And so, we we’re almost done with the shoot, so close I could practically taste the coffee in my trailer waiting for me, and then Kevin calls cut, and he makes us do the whole scene over again! I swear, I was about to strange that man. Ugh, I can’t wait til you come home. Only two more weeks, I can’t believe we made it.” Y/n rants, talking to Pete on the phone.

“Uh huh. Cool.” He wasn’t looking at her, instead his attention was somewhere else. Y/n frowns, tilting her head a bit.

“Pete…are, are you okay?” That seemed to catch his attention, and he finally looked at the screen.

“What? I’m fine.”

“Okay…you just seem so…different lately. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but you seem like you don’t have time for me anymore. Or if you do, you don’t like talking to me.” Pete scoffs.

“Of course I don’t have time for you right now. I’m in between shows, I’m driving to one as we speak. I mean, god forbid I get a minute to myself without my agents or you calling me.” Pete snapped.

“Wha-I’m just talking to you. If you didn’t want to, you could have said something.”

“That’s bullshit you would have thrown a fucking hissy fit or something.” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s not true. I understand when people are tired, believe me I would know.”

“Would you?”

“Yes!” She had tears stinging her eyes. “Of course I do, you’re forgetting what I do for a living. I work from 6 am to whenever we finish which most of the time is in the middle of the night. I have to re-do the same scene about ten times because RDJ won’t stop making jokes in the middle of the scene!”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot about your super-star actress life.”

“Why are you being so mean to me? I was only concerned about you.”

“Mean? What are you, five? I can’t-I can’t do this anymore.” She huffs, crossing her arms.

“What do you talking about? Are you breaking up with me?”

“Wh-”

“Because then fine. If you don’t want to be with me, I don’t have to take this shit. I’ll be with someone who, oh, I don’t know is actually here.”

“Oh that’s fucking rich, you know I can’t be there, don’t even do that.” She scoffs.

“I don’t care. You want to act like a petty bitch, I have no problem doing it right back.”

“No, I think you’re just a petty bitch.” She wipes her eye, and he laughs dryly. “Oh of course you’re crying.”

“Shut up. If you don’t want to be with me, fine. Go enjoy your show, Pete.” She hung up the phone, and turned off the ringer. She plugged it into her charger, and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on.

********

Pete rubbed his eyes, and took a drag of his cigarette. He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at her, it wasn’t her fault he was cranky, and needed to take it out on someone.

“I’m a dick.” He mumbles to himself, and bangs his steering wheel.

His phone rang again, and for a good second his heart leaping out of his chest, thinking it was his girlfriend, calling him back. He checked the phone, seeing it was Colson. He answered the call.

“What’s up, man?” Pete asks.

“The shows starting soon. You almost here?” Colson questioned. Pete looked at his google maps, seeing he was supposed to be there in ten minutes.

“I’m a good ten minutes away. I’ll be there.”

“You sound weird. What the fuck did you take without me?” Colson asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Uh…Y/n and I just broke up. I think.” The line was silent for a few seconds.

“Why the fuck would you do that, you idiot? Are you kidding me?” Colson scoffs. “Man, what the fuck?”

“Shut up, man. I can’t stand talking on the phone with her. I’m busy, she’s busy, she plays a superhero for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even expect it to last this long to be honest.”

“Man, you fucking dumbass. That girl was probably the only good thing you had going for you. Get her the fuck back.I thought you loved her.”

“I did-I do. I do love her. I’m just so stressed right now, and excuse me for not wanting to hear about fucking Kevin Feige being a shitty director.”

“Hey, fuck-shit, you ever think that maybe this is more hard on her? Acting is fucking hard, you should know that, especially for a company like Marvel.

“Man, who’s side are you on?” Pete turns into the parking lot, and grabs his phone.

“You think I’m on your side here? You’re forgetting that we were friends before I met you. I can not believe you just fucked up the best thing in your life. Fix it, man. You’re going home in a week, fucking fix it.” And with that, Colson hung up, and put his phone away.

He kicked a rock across the pavement, and cursed under his breathe.

********

The worst thing about breaking up with someone you live with, who so happens to be long-distance is that their stuff fills the apartment with an existential amount of regret.

Y/n laid on her couch, flipping through the channels of the TV. She had called off work for the next few days, not feeling up to put on a performance for anyone. She knew she would get shit for it later, but she didn’t care.

Her head perked up when there was a knock on the door. She sighed, and got up, going over to the door. She really didn’t feel like company at the moment, and was sure she was going to send away whoever it was.

When she opened the door, her breathe caught in her throat. Pete stood in the doorway, looming over her. He looked like shit. She could tell he hadn’t slept, and probably didn’t eat anything, but she knew he didn’t look much better.

“Why-why didn’t you use your key?” Y/n asks, opening the door a bit for him.

“I uh, didn’t want to barge in on you. You also probably weren’t expecting me.”

“I wasn’t. I thought you didn’t get back until next week.” She says. It took every ounce of her not to jump into his arms, and kiss his face until she was sure she kissed every part of it.

“I took off early. Can we talk? Please. I was a dick. I was such a dick. I’m sorry, I know we grew apart in the last few months, and I promised we wouldn’t but we did, and I’m so sorry for that, baby.” He grabs her hand, and she slightly pulls it back, but let’s him grab it. “Please, forgive me. I love you, so much, okay? So fucking much, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she looked away from him. “What you said really hurt.”

“I know. And I’ll spend every day trying to make it up to you.” She quickly wrapped her arms around him, pushing her face into his chest. He didn’t hesitate to hug her back, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Fuck traveling.”

“Fuck traveling.”

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfiction #machine gun kelly #mgk imagine #angst

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Smitten - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader

Filming sex scenes wasn’t the easiest task. There are weird nude undergarments or socks or tape or sometimes just a nude co-star…With Tom, though? There were nerves and feelings and a deep down hope that he couldn’t tell that you were incredibly turned on as he mimed fucking you twelve ways to Sunday.

“Cut! That’s a wrap on today. Great work guys!” the director called.

Tom collapsed onto your chest, laughing as the tension left his body. “These never get easier.”

“I don’t know” you teased, playing with his hair as everyone left the set so you two could leave the bed with some of your dignity. “It’s a lot easier with you.”

Tom held himself up on his elbows. “Don’t tell me your past romantic co-stars have been less than gentlemanly.”

“Not all of them.” You shrugged. Being a ‘larger than the Hollywood standard’ actress had put you in some…not very flattering roles in the start of your career. Sure, now you were the romantic lead with a conventionally attractive male actor, but lets just say you’ve dealt with a lot to get here.

“Well, I hope you know you deserved better.” Tom kissed the back of one of your hands, rolling off of you.

“Coming from you, I may actually believe it.” You laughed, gathering the sheet around you as you left the bed, grabbed your robe, and started walking towards your trailer.

The two of you filmed the movie…Where you’d usually fall asleep in one of your two trailers watching other movies…

The two of you attended interviews…Where Tom would almost always defer to you and even stuck up for you when a few interviewers were borderline sexist or would comment on your appearance…

The two of you even walked a few red carpets together…Tom’s hand always placed at your middle or on your hip or in one of your hands...

He invited you out to eat with him before or after any shindig the two of you went to…

He’d walk you to your hotel rooms with kisses left on your cheeks…

He’d even tried to convince you to spend the week before the premiere in London with him…

In your mind, Tom was just too nice. He was nice to everybody. It all seemed very friendly…Until…

You hadn’t been watching the interviews as they’d been posted. Some interviews you did together with Tom and others you’d been split up and put with other actors from the movie.

Your phone pinged…

*best friend* - HAVE YOU SEEN TOM ON FALLON?!?

Before you could reply, your phone started blowing up.

You scrolled through the texts until you saw Tom’s

Tom – Darling, I hope you know how much you mean to me. Regardless of what your answer is, I’d never want to lose your friendship. It’s not every day you get to work with one so incredibly kind and thoughtful and talented and beautiful and…every moment I’ve spent with you has been a privilege. Please put me out of my misery and let me know you’ll at least let me see you again.

“What the fuck?” you asked yourself, opening your laptop and googling “Tom Hiddleston and Jimmy Fallon”

You saw that the Fallon YouTube channel had just posted Tom’s segment of tonight’s episode…

“How are you doing, buddy?” Fallon asked, pulling Tom into a tight hug.

“I’m doing incredibly well at the moment, actually.” Tom answered, sharing that the movie you two had filmed together had done extremely well on its opening weekend just a few days earlier.

“I know! It was amazing. I’ve seen it twice!” Fallon replied, always enthusiastic.

“I’m so glad you liked it. Y/n is incredible, right?” Tom turned to the audience, loving that they cheered when he brought you up.

“Oh my god, you two are so good together. I kind of thought maybe you two were…you know…” Fallon waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tom threw his head back laughing, fidgeting with his tie and avoiding looking into the audience.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you two don’t have SOME sort of real chemistry. I saw the movie.” Fallon gave Tom a look like *Don’t lie*

“Well, perhaps we’re just incredible actors and you’re simply complimenting our craft.” Tom shrugged, trying to look anywhere but at Jimmy.

“Well, yes. The acting in the movie is amazing, but I don’t think that accounts for this.” Jimmy turned and pointed to the screen. It was a series of clips pulled from Tom’s interviews where all he did was gush about you.

“I missed being home, but it’s hard for anyone to stay upset when they’re around Y/n. She just lifts the mood in any room she’s in. You could say she makes anywhere feel a bit like home.” Tom had answered when a woman asked him if it was hard being on site away from home for 5 months.

When another interviewer asked Tom what his favorite line in the movie was, he answered, quoting one of your lines. “When she delivered it for the first time, it kind of took my breath away. I felt very unprofessional. I had to apologize and ask to start over. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say next. She tends to have that effect on me.” Tom laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks.

The final clip was one of an interviewer simply asking Tom how his day had gone. “I feel all out of sorts, if I’m being honest. Y/n isn’t here today because she woke up not feeling the best and with Covid still being an issue, she didn’t want to risk getting anyone else sick.” Tom answered with a sad smile on his face. When the interviewer shared that they hoped you would be okay and feel better soon, Tom answered with “I’ll make sure to pass on your sentiments when I bring her food later on.”

“COME ON!” Fallon laughed, throwing his arms up.

“I know, I know. I’m not very good at hiding how I feel, I guess.” Tom admitted, leaning back against the couch and laying his arm across the top. The crowd went wild.

“So, you admit it! Are you two together?!” Fallon asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Unfortunately, not.” Tom answered, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Why?!” Jimmy asked. “You’re clearly smitten!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Tom rebutted, looking to the audience for support. “I’ve tried!”

“Aww, now I feel bad for bringing it up.” Fallon chuckled and looked at the audience as they collectively ‘aww’ed. “How could anyone turn down this?!” He gestured towards Tom as the audience cheered.

“Well, if I’m to be completely honest I guess I haven’t actually TOLD her how I feel.” Tom confessed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Jimmy paused.

“Well, I thought she’d catch on. I assume she has.” Tom laughed, fidgeting in his seat. “I’m pretty sure everyone else that knows the two of us can tell I’ve fallen completely head over heels for her.”

“Tom, Tom, Tom.” Jimmy shook his head.

“What?” Tom asked, nervous about what the answer would be.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I think you may just be horrible at flirting.” Fallon said with a straight face, the audience busting up laughing after.

“Do you think?” Tom replied, eyes gone wide in exaggerated surprise.

“I mean, I think you’re just so nice.” Jimmy laughed, trying to stay serious…“that everyone thinks you’re flirting with them…Which means, when you’re trying to flirt it just blends in.”

“Well, how would you suggest I stand out then?” Tom asked, putting his elbow on his knee and leaning his chin on his fist like he was really paying attention.

“I mean…” Fallon slowly pointed towards the camera. “You gotta shoot your shot, right?”

The audience went wild at the suggestion. “Oh, dear.”

“I can scrap this and we can just talk about the movie.” Jimmy offered, making sure Tom knew that none of this had to go on the air.

“I mean, if it’s truly that obvious to everyone what have I got to lose, right?” Tom answered.

“That’s what we like to hear!” Jimmy cheered with the audience.

“Well…Y/n.” Tom paused, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t quite know where to start. I feel as though I may have been remiss by not just telling you how I feel. The consequence of such is that now I’m doing it in front of all of these people *gestures to the audience*…and I’m sure you’re laughing at how red I’ve gone and how flustered I am so I’m going to get to the point. Darling, you’re an incredible woman. I could list a million reasons why, but hopefully later you’ll give me the time to tell you them in person. What I really want to tell you now is that you make me happy. You inspire me. You make me want to be the best version of myself and you even make me believe I can achieve it. I’d be honored if you’d give me a chance.”

Fallon had tears in his eyes and most of the audience did, as well. “I…That was so beautiful. I think we need to go to a commercial break.” He was all choked up and stood to give Tom a hug.

You pulled up Tom’s text, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Are you still in New York?” you text him. The two of you were there for interviews. You were even staying in the same hotel.

“I am.” He text back, but the ‘typing’ bubble stayed. “Did you watch it?”

“I did.” You answered. “Come over?”

You saw the ‘typing’ bubble pop up and then disappear a few times. Instead of a text, you heard a knock at your hotel door.

“So?” Tom asked when you opened the door. He looked nervous, a look you didn’t often see from him. He had his glasses on and his hair was an adorable mess. He was even already dressed in his night clothes.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stepped forward and placed your hands on each side of his face, pulling his lips gently to yours. He quickly reciprocated, his hands finding your hips as he walked you backwards into your hotel room.

“And to think, I could have been doing that for a whole year already.” You teased him, connecting your lips again.

“Don’t worry, my sweet.” Tom answered, pressing kisses across your cheek and down your neck. His lips paused at the shell of your ear and his voice dropped. “It just means we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

#Tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #curvy #loki

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns.

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

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spinster-sisters · 3 years

Text

Pushover. psh jwy

TW: exhibitionism, fingering, oral female receiving, dirty talk, praise, degradation, grinding, slight bondage, good ole fashion fucking, cock stepping apparently, daddy kink, mutual masturbation, probably other stuff that have escaped my mind cuz writing this felt like a fever dream. So wooyoung is involved pretty heavily involved in this, like many of the kinks listed are done on him and by him so there you have it. Also yeosang is directly involved for like 4 seconds, also please just assume any tags mentioned in the first part that are not listed here may also pop up.

Part 1 (this is a direct continuation of this timestamp)

WC: 5k words of pure smut.

You were hardly aware of your surroundings. Nestled into Seonghwa’s lap, your head fell back onto his shoulder and your eyes screwed shut. You could hear the garbled sound of your boyfriend’s voice rumbling next to your ear, but the slim fingers working in and out of your wet hole stopped any thoughts from entering your brain. Your panties had been pushed aside only enough for him to slip two fingers inside you but you were already keening.

Seonghwa knew how to work you, knew how to make you fall apart and he would usually take his time doing it. Normally you had to put in the work for this kind of treatment, you would have to be especially good and listen to him well during the day, a single misstep or disobeyed words would leave you hopeless, but you had gotten very good at behaving. Why would you when he treated you so well? Not to mention that Seonghwa had something to prove today, without an exchange of words you already knew to be on your best behavior today.

“So what do you say, Woo? It’s your call.” Seonghwa spoke with a cool calm tone. His free hand tapped your side and you knew he wanted your attention for the next part, so your head lifted up and you pulled your eyes open to face the room.

Seven pairs of eyes were glued to you and your boyfriend, all in various stages of embarrassment to downright turned on, but the ones that caught your attention were none other than Wooyoung’s. Because it seemed for the first time the man was at a complete loss for words. His mouth was flapping open and closed like a fish out of water but his complexion was suddenly very pink. He was watching with careful eyes the way Seonghwa’s fingers slipped in and out of you, each time pulling more wetness from you, where it pooled on Seonghwa’s pant leg and made his fingers glisten.

“Are you going to answer me? I don’t appreciate being ignored Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded again, this time with a much steelier tone. Snapped out of his reverie Wooyoung’s eyes flung up to your boyfriend's hard gaze and he made a confused noise. Wooyoung’s body twitched at Seonghwa’s disappointed sigh and somewhere in the room, you heard Mingi muttering to Jongho.

“I asked you a question Woo, do you have an answer?”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted around the room, desperately looking for aid in the faces of his friends, but none came. They seemed perfectly content to watch the loud boy struggle for words. Eventually, he looked to you for help with pleading eyes, you weren’t quite sure what he wanted you to do but before you could even ponder Seonghwa slipped another finger inside you, stretching you open, even more, making your lips fall open with a pleased sigh and your brain clouded over again.

“Don’t look to her for help, she listened well and is getting her reward. You can’t possibly expect her to risk that to help you. Now, I don’t like repeating myself Woo, so I’m only going to do it once. Do you still think I’m too much of a pushover?” Seonghwa spoke with icy venom.

Wooyoung frantically shook his head ‘no.’ You almost felt sorry for the man when your boyfriend's face turned to stone. Wooyoung noticed it too, and in a moment of frantic panic he realized his mistake and pushed out the word “No!” With perhaps a little too much force. Your head turned to look at Seonghwa’s sharp side profile. He looked very pleased with himself. Rightfully so, taking charge was his forte in times like these.

Seonghwa returned your gaze with a smirk. Using his free hand he gently took your chin between his fingers and pulled you in for a deep kiss. The hand working inside you slowed it is ministrations, but you knew better than to voice your disapproval. Seonghwa’s lips effortlessly urged yours to open and his long tongue slipped between them. Seonghwa’s kisses were always so, strong? He put so much force into every press of the lips and every swipe of the tongue head spun with excitement. Your eyes feel shut almost immediately, moving your mouth gently along with your boyfriend.

It seems you got a little too lost in the feeling of the kiss and the gentle push of the hand working inside you because you were slowly becoming more and more vocal with each passing second. What started as soft groans were now developing into full moans that were only slightly muffled by Seonghwa’s lips. But a sudden squeal from across the room drew both of your attention. Seonghwa broke the kiss to peer across the room at none other than Wooyoung, whose pink complexion had turned bright red since you last looked at him. Also notable, was the way he kept clenching his thighs together and making small grinding motions.

He wasn’t completely alone in this, one quick glass around the room showed you that all of your friends seemed to be enjoying the scene before them, many of them sporting hard dicks of their own (San and Hongjoong especially had taken to slowly palming themselves over their jeans) but none seemed to be quite as affected as the boy directly across for you.

“Getting impatient?” Seonghwa asked with disinterest.

“No,” Wooyoung replied, trying to match your boyfriend's tone but failing miserably.

“We’ve barely started and you're already rutting against the floor like a dog, are you sure this isn’t too much for you?” Seonghwa asked in a tone of mock concern. Seonghwa pulled his fingers from you to instead gently circle your clit with care. You. Squirmed again. The truth was you were remarkably close to the cumming. A fact Seonghwa probably knew. You tried to reassure yourself, knowing that in the current circumstances a high reward was coming your way soon, but the sudden emptiness was disappointing none the less and while it showed on your face you dared not make a sound.

“Get on with it then,”

You winced. Knowing the kind of reaction Wooyoung’s words would bring. Seonghwa’s face hardened. Much darker than you had seen in a long time. One quick glance to the side told you that the younger boy's word had left Seonghwa seething. He stayed silent for a moment, but not inactive. His fingers dancing across your folds seemed to gain a sense of purpose, and with sudden and unexpected vigor, Seonghwa worked them in a way that made your legs twitch and your hole clench around nothing.

“Can I, please?” You asked aloud, though it was clear who you were talking to.

“Go ahead little one,” Seonghwa encouraged with a surprisingly gentle tone.

A loud whine came from your open mouth and the room watched with rapt attention as your body came undone. Even Seonghwa pulled eyes dangerous gaze away from Wooyoung who had been gulping with fear, to watch with soft eyes at the way his pretty girl fell apart for him.

It must have been a truly lewd sight. Your body spasming freely as your glistening core twitched, not to mention your chest covered with marks given to you by the very man who caused your pleasure. The helpless cries were only the cherry on top to the room of onlookers, Yunho had even let out a low groan of his own. But the man of the hour, as it seemed, Wooyoung had returned to his stunned silence, watching the way Seonghwa continued to toy with your clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible for the room to enjoy.

Seonghwa turned back to Wooyoung and stopped his work on you only after the majority of your orgasm had passed, leaving you breathless and panting. You felt Seonghwa’s hard cock digging into your ass, but Seonghwa had other matters to attend to first. He fixed Wooyoung with a hard gaze and gave a simple command.

“Come here,”

Wooyoung froze at his words, unable to look away. Yeosang, who had been enjoying Wooyoung’s torment far more than the others urged his forward with a small push on the shoulder, which snapped him out of his trance, and after a moment he slowly crawled across the floor to sit on the floor before you.

Everyone in the room seemed shocked by this turn of events, yourself included, but one quick look from Seonghwa’s encouraging smile settled your nerves. Besides, your brain way still basking in the aftermath of your orgasm so this all seemed much more exciting than you would admit out loud.

With a pinch on your outer thigh from Seonghwa your legs instinctively opened wider, giving Wooyoung an eye full of your now slightly swollen core. Seonghwa reached between your legs and spread your pussy open, exposing your still pulsing hole to the man on the floor, and with one simple sentence, changed the tone of the night for good.

“Get on with it then,”

“What?” Wooyoung sputtered helplessly, looking up to your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Your attitude has done nothing but remind me how wonderfully obedient my pretty girl is,” as Seonghwa spoke you subconsciously cuddled further into his chest, his eyes flicked to you and he gave you a reassuring squeeze on your neck with his free hand, “and I think she should be rewarded before I deal with that mouth of yours.”

Wooyoung’s eyes shown with realization as it finally dawned on him exactly what his teasing had gotten him into. His eyes flicked around to the faces of his friends only to see them waiting expectantly for Wooyoung to do as he was told. He looked back to Seonghwa and opened his mouth, to apologize, to beg, to l say anything at all, but no words came out. Seonghwa frowned at him.

“Don’t you think she’s been good?” Your boyfriend asked accusatorily.

“Yes, she has-“ Wooyoung started.

Seonghwa’s finger slipped down to drag through your folds and collect the wetness gathering there. You were still incredibly sensitive from your orgasm and the movement made you shudder a gasp. Wooyoung’s eyes followed the action with a downright hungry gaze but something was still restraining him from acting. Seonghwa held out his wet finger in front of the boy's face, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.

“I’m not going to say it again. Get. On. With. It.”

It seemed whatever defiant streak had been holding the boy back had finally broken. Wooyoung’s head snapped forward and took the Seonghwa’s long shining finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. A loud whinny groan came from the boy instantaneously and after a moment his lips pulled away with a loud pop. With his new resolve Wooyoung’s eyes zeroed in on your face blushing face and with an incredibly what look his eyes snapped back down and he dove in.

An unapologetic scream ripped from your open mouth. The first sensation you felt was pain, you have only fully come down from your high a minute or so prior and your clit was still incredibly sensitive as Wooyoung attached his lips to your cunt and rolled his tongue over the bud repeatedly. But the longer he kept at it, sliding his tongue over the length of your core in a wide lick, the more the full pain turned into biting pleasure.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” Seonghwa muttered encouragingly in your ear, but still loud enough for the room to hear over the obscene slurping noises Wooyoung was now making as he sucked at your entrance. “Doesn't that feel nice?”

Depends on how you define nice really, it felt like all too much all at once, it hurt yes, but every swipe of the younger boy's tongue brought more wetness out of you and made your body twitch and writhe with the slightest movement. Honestly, you should have been used to this by now. Seonghwa loved to do this to you, overstimulate you for hours till there were tears in your eyes and you had lost control of your limbs, he thought you looked best when completely at his mercy. But this was only your first orgasm, you had been trained well enough to keep some of your composure despite the abuse your aching core was suffering at Wooyoung’s hand. You turned to Seonghwa’s satisfied face, and gave him a weak smile,

“Feels good, Daddy.”

Somewhere in the room someone let out an “oh fuck,” and Wooyoung groaned particularly loud directly into your pussy and the vibrations traveled up your spine like lightning. Your mouth fell open as you looked into Seonghwa’s eyes with a dazed look. Your hips arched off your boyfriend's lap. It was Wooyoung who made the first move to push your hips back, eager to have his mouth back on you, but he had no sooner touched you than Seonghwa slapped his hand away from your body.

Wooyoung pulled away from your core, his chin dripping with your juices and his eyes shining with confusion. Seonghwa took your hips into both of his hands and pulled you back, flush against his lap and still hard cock, he then fixed Wooyoung with a glare.

“Your not here to touch. Make my baby girl cum in the next five minutes and I might just go easier on you.” Seonghwa spat.

Wooyoung blinked at him, before giving him the sweetest smile he could muster.

“Yes, Daddy”

This took you and the rest of the room by surprise. But you didn’t have time to ponder before Seonghwa took the boy by the roots of his hair and pulled his face forward into your swollen cunt.

“Times ticking, little boy, better get a move on.”

And so he did. Wooyoung ate you out with a burning passion you had never quite experienced. Seonghwa preferred to take hours going down on you, purposely going a slow and steady as possible to build up extremely powerful orgasms that would last for minutes. This was entirely different. Wooyoung was being incredibly messy. Wet sounds echoed around the room and into your ears, he seemed to be trying to eat you alive with the way his mouth moved desperately around your folds. His tongue had made its return to your clit. He sucked the bud between his lips and rolled it around with his tongue in such quick tight little circles your brain spun and if it weren’t for the iron grip one of your boyfriend's hand still had on your hip your sure you would flailing around like a madwoman. You certainly sounded like one with the way endless cries, whines, and groan spilled from your lips in increasing volume. Wooyoung had a clear goal, Seonghwa had given him five minutes? He would do it in three.

You were nearing the end of your rope, your entire lower half seemed to be vibrating with numb pain and pleasure it was almost unbearable but somehow nowhere near enough.

“Daddy? Can I cum please?” You spoke in a shattered voice. Seonghwa, who still had his hand twisted in Wooyoung’s hair looked down expectantly at the boy, who was already peering up at your face with wide eyes. Both you and your boyfriend watched as Wooyoung slid his tongue into your hole and began fucking it in and out of you in time with your breathy gasps. Your head flipped frantically to search your boyfriend's eyes, begging for permission.

“Please, please, Daddy, I can’t hold-“

“You can cum baby,”

And that was all it took. You practically screamed. Your eyes went white as your head fell back again. Having lost all control of the movement of your limbs Seonghwa took his hand from Wooyoung’s head and used both to hold your spasming body close against his. Your brain had gone fuzzy and the only two things registering in your brain were the gentle praise being whispered into your ear and the beat of Seonghwa’s heart against your back from how closely he held you.

Your recovery to much longer this time. To be perfectly honest, in your whacked-out brain it could have been hours.

Slowly you came back to reality. When you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Yunho from across the room, he gave you a reassuring smile but it was offset slightly by the way his hand was down his pants, nevertheless you smiled back. You laid limp and spent across Seonghwa’s lap. His arm had come around your waist to hold you up and his other hand was rubbing soft circles on your inner thigh. He gave a gentle kiss to your temple as you stirred, leaving butterflies in your stomach. Shifting slightly so you sat sideways on his lap you curled yourself into him with an affectionate purr.

And then there way Wooyoung. He sat on his knees with his hands on his thighs looking up at you like he won a prize.

“You taste good,” he said with an almost happy hour lucky smile.

“Did you like it, Woo?” San asked from behind him, San was sporting his own wide eyes and looking overly jealous about the whole thing.

Wooyoung spun around to look at his best friend and spoke enthusiastically,

“She tastes so good Sannie, really, it was so much fun!”

“Don’t get too excited Woo, we’re not done yet.” Seonghwa chided. Wooyoung whirled around to face him.

“Didn’t I do good?” He asked with a confused look.

You nodded absently as Seonghwa spoke.

“Yea you did good, but that doesn’t excuse your attitude earlier. You still need to learn some respect. I’m sure our friends would agree all this attention you’ve been getting has gone to your head.”

Yeosang and Jongho snickered in agreement. Wooyoung turned to shoot them a glare but it was cut short by a strangled moan. Seonghwa had pressed the heel of his shoe onto the swollen tip of Wooyoung’s cock through his jeans. And to your surprise, Wooyoung’s hips bucked up into the sole of his shoe. Your brain short-circuited.

Wooyoung started to move away but Seonghwa took hold of his hair again and kept him in place.

“What’s the matter woo? Embarrassed? Embarrassed you almost got yourself off on Daddy’s shoe?”

Wooyoung shook his head no, but Seonghwa only dug his heel in harder and Wooyoung couldn’t help but buck against his shoe again with a pained moan. Your legs were clenching together as another pool of arousal pooled between them. Here’s the deal, you had always admired Seonghwa’s incredible level-headedness. In fact, it was one of the best qualities you could ask for in a lover. But for months now, you had been hoping for the chance that Seonghwa would show his true colors to the rest of the group. The idea had been a fantasy of yours for such a long time, but seeing it, here and now, and like this? Not to mention you had always wondered just how far Seonghwa would go if someone disobeyed him, perhaps you didn’t have the guts to do it yourself, especially since being good reaped such high reward, but this was far more than you ever imagined. You doubt whether you had ever been this turned on in your life.

Seonghwa noticed your reaction, of course, he could always read you like a book. He glanced around the room to the hungry faces of your friends till he found who he was looking for and locked eyes with them with a smirk.

“Yeosang, think you could help me for a moment?”

Yeosang returned the smirk and the room watched with bated breath as he made his way over to the scene, eyes zeroed in on Wooyoung’s mortified face.

“Who knew Wooyoung was such a pain slut.”

Yeosang’s voice was as cool as a cucumber, and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants you would think he was talking about the weather. Seonghwa dug his heel into Woo one last time before spinning the boy around to face Yeosang by yanking the hair in his grip. Wooyoung was whining pathetically at it all. Your hand was placed on Seonghwa’s hard chest. He glanced at you with a promising smile at your desperate face.

“Not had your fill yet, little one?” He asked you with a smirk. You shook your head ‘no.’

“No Daddy, you make me so needy.” You reply with wide eyes and a slight whine, grasping the fabric of his shirt in a tight fist. He grinned at you before turning to Yeosang again.

“I think it’s finally time to fuck my baby girl, but I don’t think Wooyoung has learned his lesson yet,” as he spoke Seonghwa began fiddling with his belt, pulling through the loops of his jeans. Handing the belt to Yeosang he continued, “Do me a favor, tie him up, make him desperate, don’t stop till he begs.”

Yeosang accepted the challenge with a smile. Seonghwa’s attention was finally on you and you alone. With his help as your body was still weak, he adjusted you to straddle his hips facing him. You looked a mess surely, there was no way you looked anything but obscene and sweaty, But Seonghwa took in your face with a smile.

“You look so pretty like this baby girl” As he spoke, Seonghwa’s hand came to your ass and kneaded it in his palms. The room could no longer see your face, but they could most definitely see this, and likely your still leaking cunt.

Directly behind you, you could hear rummaging noises and the distinct clink of a belt being done up. A quick glance over your shoulder showed you that Wooyoung was now facing the room, with his hands bound behind his back and a pillow between his legs, Yeosang sat to his side clearly satisfied with his work. After taking it in you turned back to Seonghwa who looked pleased himself.

“You’ve been so good baby, want Daddy to fuck you? Nice and deep how you like it?” You practically purred at his words. It’s true so far you had enjoyed yourself, but there was nothing quite like when Seonghwa filled you up with his cock.

“Please fuck me Daddy” you whispered, leaning in close to him with your biggest doll eyes, and your hands gripping his shoulder. Seonghwa smiled at you, content with your answer.

A moment later he had freed his duck from his jeans and was stroking it leisurely. Your mouth watered. Oh, the way he could make you feel, how many times he had made you cum. As Seonghwa sunk into the couch, taking a moment to watch you squirm on his lap he truly looked too powerful. The calm in the sea of chaos that had unfolded that night, it was unfair how he made your heart skip a beat. With one quick glance over your shoulder, he called out to Wooyoung one last time.

“I’d start doing as you were told Wooyoung, wouldn’t want the others to get impatient with you,”

At that, you heard the first grunt of Wooyoung grinding helplessly on the pillow, then whimpering at how the surface was too soft to gain any friction over his pants. The poor boy was at his wit's end.

But your attention was drawn back to the man in front of you before you had time to feel sorry for Wooyoung. One of his fingers had slipped inside you once again to test the waters. You flinched at the intrusion, your body was utterly spent, and the overstimulation would be hell, but as God, as your witness, you were going to take your boyfriend's cock tonight.

“Are you sure your ok baby? Wouldn’t want to push you too far after the night you’ve had.” He spoke with mild concern, but he already knew the answer.

“No! I want to! I can take it!” You spoke with urgency.

“Absolutely sure sweetpea?” He asked one last time. Your hand gripping his shirt twisted and shook. You looked at him with the most pleading look you could muster.

“Please fuck me, Daddy.”

“Ok then,” he replied with a smile. Not once today had you forgotten your manners or rules, after dealing with the whimpering boy behind you for an evening he was glad to have his perfect baby girl still being as good as ever.

Seonghwa hoisted your hips to be level with his. Seonghwa had a thing about eye contact while he fucked you, so you did your best to not break it as the tip of his cock teased your entrance.

To be completely honest, but the focus of the rest of the room seemed to now be on Wooyoung, who was still rutting against the pillow like a dog, and they all seemed to be enjoying the show far too much to notice the tender way Seonghwa pulled your body down flush against his hips and down onto his cock. Although the broken whipper that came from you at the feeling overwhelming sensation did turn a few heads.

Your knees were shaking and your hands trembling. You had been right, the overstimulation was making it too hard to move on your own. But Seonghwa was attentive as always. He wrapped an arm around your waist and used it to slowly work you up and down on his cock. Each thrust he made felt like pins and needles in the best way possible. After Seonghwa had worked up a steady rhythm a numbing pleasure had already begun to build. Looking deep into your boyfriend's eyes you placed and hand on your tummy and after moving it around for a bit you could feel him moving inside you. You groaned out, this position had always been the best for deep penetration anyways.

“Daddy I can feel you inside me,” you whipper as he picks up speed. The room was beginning to sound like a symphony of lewd cries and squelching noises coming from both you and Wooyoung. Not to mention the panting and groaning coming from the others in the room, who had lost any semblance of shame and were jerking off freely to the unexpected yet beautiful sight. The other boy's eyes kept flicking back and forth, unable to decide which one was more arousing to watch. Many of them had already gotten themselves off before now and were now sporting half-hard cocks as they were faced with the delightful scene.

“I know baby girl, I know how much you love to be stuffed full of cock. And now everyone else knows too.” Seonghwa replied clearly satisfied with himself. His hand came up to your jaw and he delivered a particularly hard thrust and pulled your hips down to match it. You were already losing focus of the world around you and the pleasure was mounting rapidly. At the force of the thrust, your eyes almost dropped closed but Seonghwa pulled your head forward and they opened a bit wider.

“Now everyone knows how good you are for me, baby. My good little girl, who loves taking my cock.” Seonghwa was speaking in such a low grumbling voice it was almost like he was talking to himself rather than you like he was reminding himself of what he had accomplished today. You could tell that after waiting all night for stimulation he was also getting close to his own edge, and if you listen to the whiny panting of the boy behind you you could tell he was getting desperate for the release that would never come from the pillow.

You almost lost eye contact again when Seonghwa’s thrusts became sloppy. Increased pace but with less consistency was the tell-tale sign that Seonghwa was going to cum, but luckily for him, it was this exact treatment that made your head spin. Your lower half was numb with biting pleasure and it was all you could do to keep your eyes open to watch the sweat dripping down Seonghwa’s forehead as he carried on with determination. The others had caught on to what was about to happen and many were now speeding up their ministrations to themselves to climax at the same time as you and your boyfriend.

Seonghwa’s hand wound its way into your hair and used it to crash your lips onto his is a heated, wet, and messy kiss. Any second now and you would lose yourself to the pleasure. You detached your lips just enough to pant into Seonghwa’s lips,

“Daddy, in cumming”

“Damn right you are,” he moaned in response.

It was wise of him to reattach your lips before you came undone. Even with him muffling your noises there was no way the sounds you made didn’t echo around the room and ring In everyone’s ears. Seonghwa kept his pace, pushing more and more whinnies out of you till you almost jumped away from him in overstimulation, butter grip on your waist didn’t let you get far. There were tears in your eyes by the time Seonghwa finally came. Your orgasm had turned silent almost immediately after and your mouth hung wide open in an empty moan. Your brain had all but shut off when the feeling of your boyfriend's cum spilling into you registered into your brain.

Saying you blacked out would be a strong word. But when your eyes fell closed they didn’t seem to want to open. You and Seonghwa stayed connected for what seemed like an eternity before he pulled out of you with a groan and laid you gently down onto the couch to his side.

You were dead weight at this point. But when you felt Seonghwa stand up you pried your eyes open the slightest bit once you realized that the unmistakable noises of a begging Wooyoung had filled your ears.

Seonghwa walked around to stand in front of him. Most of the others in the room were now basking in the afterglow of their own orgasms but had perked up to watch.

“Please, please, please, Daddy. Please let me cum. I promise I’ll be good, I promise I won’t bother you as much, I promise, please-“

Wooyoung ramblings we’re cut short by Seonghwa taking hold of Wooyoung’s head and turning it up to look him in the eyes.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Seonghwa replied. Wooyoung gasped a sigh of relief. Seonghwa motioned for Yeosang to come over and untie the poor boy and hopefully get him some relief. But Seonghwa didn’t care about that part, his eyes were now back on you. His sweet perfect, obedient little girl.

Tag List: @deja-vux @txtbbys @darlingmulti @emotionally-intellectual @mingishoe @eonghwa @galaxteez

@a-soft-hornytiny @yunhospuppy @barnesbabee @woowommy @hyetiny @multidreams-and-desires @spacepiratehongjoong @pikacuuuuuuu

if your wondering why your tagged, its either because you expressed interest in a part two or are otherwise a homie or I would like you to be a homie and this is my olive branch

#ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez timestamp #seonghwa smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #yunho smut #jongho smut #san smut

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obiwanobi · 3 years

Text

I blame @quiet-oracle and @theevildevices for this, because I couldn’t resist the urge to write 2k of hurt/comfort for the ‘Jedi but enemies’ AU, where Qui-Gon trained Anakin, and now him and Obi-Wan are well-known for despising each other but working exceptionally well together when they’re not lost in ridiculous banters and petty arguments to hide the fact that they’ll be lost without each other;

Obi-Wan winces.

Skywalker’s hand immediately withdraws. “Does it bother you when I—”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“The answer is still the same.”

Skywalker’s sigh is heavier than the entire Republic navy.

His mouth is too close to Obi-Wan’s shoulder, and he shivers as a result. But it’s only because the cold of the never-ending rain outside still lingers on their clothes and in their bones, even under the tent and close to the portable heater that a clone is still trying to adjust. And also because he’s been sitting there bare-chested for the past five minutes, with Skywalker’s clumsy fingers poking at his hip and ribs, probably way harder than necessary, just to see him suffer.

“I can apply a bacta patch myself, you can go n—”

“Would you please shut up? We both know a bacta patch wouldn’t be enough.”

Only the sound of a packet of antiseptic wipes being opened, gauze being stretched and the clone pushing buttons with no effect can be heard for a moment.

“I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me before,” Obi-Wan notes lightly, then grimaces when Skywalker starts pulling on the cloth pressed to his side.

“Don’t get used to it. But if it’s the only way to make you stop being so difficult and contradictory all the time, I will gladly say it more.”

Instead of looking at his own wound —the pain in his hip is enough, thank you, he doesn't need to see the extent of the damages— Obi-Wan glances at Skywalker. Gaze focused and mouth in a thin line, there’s only concentration written on his face.

No one could guess that only half an hour ago, on the battlefield, panic and terror were the only two emotions Skywalker was projecting loud enough in the Force to bring Obi-Wan out of unconsciousness.

Unbelievable, Obi-Wan has thought once he was aware enough to realise that it was Skywalker's hands on his face and Skywalker’s voice in his ear, begging him to come back. He would find a way to be annoying enough to drag me out of a coma if he could.

Surprisingly, the thought has felt like a comfort.

The clone working on the heater stands up suddenly. Obi-Wan almost forgot about him. He nods his head towards them, and goes out of the tent at the exact same moment Hyoid enters.

At the sight of the clone, all modicum of appreciation for Skywalker evaporate.

“You called a medic?” Obi-Wan scowls, with the tone of someone who has just been the victim of a vicious mutiny.

“Of course I called a medic. Half of your tunic is covered in your own blood and you were knocked out for a while earlier, what do you think I was going to do? Tell you to go back out there and watch you slowly bleed to death?”

“Generals,” the medic calls. In vain.

“You would enjoy that,” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“Well, yes, but then the Council will ask me why I let you die just a few meters away from a first aid kit, and then I’ll have to explain that I gently push it away from your weak hands every time you reached for it, and how will I look, then?”

“Like someone who could have let me die on the battlefield and get away with it, but decided instead to choose the most idiotic and time-consuming option available, and I would have enjoyed that very much.”

“Generals.”

“Exactly,” Skywalker nods, “and I can’t let you enjoy things.”

“I know. Don’t think I never realised who was flushing the toilets every time I was in the shower when the hot water came back two days ago.”

“You were so cheerful,” Skywalker says, as if the mere thought disgusts him. “I took that as a personal affront.”

“Sirs, please,” Hyoid implores louder. Both Jedi turn towards him, almost surprised to see him there. “I’m just here to see General Kenobi’s injury, I’m sure you can continue your conversation right after. Sirs. Please.”

It takes them a second to realise that they’re sitting so close together that Obi-Wan’s hand has settled on Skywalker’s knee when they weren’t paying attention, while Skywalker’s fingers are still maintaining Obi-Wan’s pants low on his hip so it won’t come in contact with the long gash on his side. The intimacy of the scene isn’t completely lost on Skywalker, it seems, because he rushes to take his hands away and stands next to his chair, suddenly too self-conscious to know what to do with himself.

“I’m very sorry about him,” Obi-Wan apologises, as the medic takes Skywalker’s seat and starts assessing the mess Skywalker undoubtedly made of his hip and ribs. “He’s a rescue. He still has no idea how to behave appropriately in polite society.”

An outraged noise comes from Skywalker behind him, and despite the throbbing pain, Obi-Wan can feel the corners of his mouth turning up. A hiss replaces his smile rapidly enough when Hyoid applies a spray and starts cleaning what Skywalker missed, before pressing stingy patches on the wound.

The medic is wise enough not to reply to him, but it doesn’t stop him from making a comment or two about how ‘this isn’t superficial sir, you should be more careful from now on,’ or ‘you’ll have to change the bandages, and I’ll get some pills for you to take’ and ‘ok, now let’s see your head, sir, don’t think General Skywalker didn’t mention it’.

His head is, indeed, becoming heavier by the minute, and he can feel himself growing too tired to care enough to listen carefully after that. Once he gives up answering questions and lets Skywalker do it for him, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to concentrate to feel him poking obnoxiously at him in the Force, testing the limits of his consciousness. It reminds him a bit of when Skywalker was a child, tugging on his robe every two minutes to make sure he was paying attention to him.

No wonder Obi-Wan always tried to avoid him.

“All right,” the medic finally says, pulling him out of his reverie. He stands up, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll get you your pills, and then you should rest.”

Rest sounds amazing. Obi-Wan would kill Skywalker for a good mattress and a soft pillow right now. But it doesn’t mean anything; he would probably kill Skywalker for two minutes of peace on the best of days.

The sudden silence that falls under the tent once Hyoid is gone seems almost unnatural. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why the faint pitter-patter of the rain outside unsettles him so much, until he realises that it’s the first time since the battlefield that he’s alone with Skywalker.

“Are you going to keep sulking behind me?” Obi-Wan asks, finding his robe discarded on the floor and wondering if it’s worth leaning down to get it. No reply comes. “Well, you heard the medic. You can go now. I, unfortunately for you, will still live to see another...” he trails off as two arms slide over his shoulders from behind, wrapping around his neck and resting there.

Skywalker is warm against him.

For a second, Obi-Wan thinks he’s finally going to strangle him, but a golden head falls on his shoulder gently, face hidden by a cascade of curls, tickling Obi-Wan's neck and collarbone.

“Skyw—”

“Don’t be an insufferable asshole for a minute,” Skywalker mumbles, breath hot against his bare skin. “Just let me have this.”

Ah. It’s one of those moments, then.

He thought they were done with that for the day after what happened on the battlefield. Earlier.

With Skywalker’s face looming over him. Eyes so wide and so blue. One hand pressed against the wound in his side to stop the bleeding, one hand twisted in Obi-Wan’s tunic, right above his heart.

Being the one injured and barely conscious, but also being the one calming Skywalker down. Managing to get him to release his death-grip on him. Assuring him that he wasn’t going to die.

Promising it.

Twice.

Soothing the Hero with No Fear as he would soothe a lost and abandoned child.

“I told you already,” Obi-Wan says quietly. It feels wrong to speak louder when he knows they won’t look at each other for some time after that. “It’s all right. I’m fine now. It’s over.”

The arms around him tighten, mirroring the weight of Skywalker’s presence in the Force around Obi-Wan.

“I thought you’d left me,” Skywalker says accusingly, sounding remarkably like his nine-year-old self. “I thought you’d left me behind again.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes, as if not seeing it would erase the fact he’s indulging his instinct to nuzzle his face against Skywalker’s hair. He smells like the rain, muddy but fresh, and feels like lingering distress in the Force. It’s far from pleasant to remain close to such an unbalanced mind, and their position isn’t comfortable either. But Obi-Wan doesn’t shiver from the cold anymore. So they don’t move.

They’ve earned that second of weakness.

Obi-Wan’s hand comes up to scratch at Skywalker’s head gently, fingers tangling with unruly locks of hair. Slowly, his muscles relax and he leans into the touch, chest slumped against Obi-Wan’s back. Skywalker’s face turns towards his throat, nestled under his jaw, before exhaling, deep and warm. In the Force, Skywalker’s signature curls against Obi-Wan’s and quiets down to a low satisfied rumble, dragged away from dread and terror one caress at a time.

Obi-Wan’s mind is suddenly way too tired to be bothered by the tenderness of it all.

“I’m here now, with you,” he whispers in his hair. “That’s all that matters.”

It’s a quiet apology that Skywalker accepts with a satisfied humming noise that resonates in Obi-Wan’s whole body.

It feels a bit like an apology for more. For everything. For all the times he avoided and pushed him away as a child. For condemning him for reasons he didn’t want to admit to himself. For wanting to blame him, for taking his master away, for being such a better padawan than he was, for rubbing it in his face.

For wanting to be his friend, always.

Obi-Wan has been wrong for so long.

When the medic comes back, Skywalker is kneeling in front of the heater, cursing it quietly, and Obi-Wan is adjusting his robe around his shoulders with slow movements.

“All right, sir, this is what you’ll have to take before every meal,” Hyoid says, showing him a small bottle, before putting a white box on the table. “And these are the bandages and the bacta to change every day. I would advise you not to do it yourself, and if you don’t have anyone to—“

“I’ll do it,” Skywalker declares without looking up, and Obi-Wan immediately narrows his eyes.

“You? I can’t even trust you with my toothpaste tube, what makes you think—“

“I don’t care what you say Kenobi, there is no wrong way to squeeze toothpaste!”

“There is, and you do it on purpose. What kind of savage would squeeze it right in the middle—”

Skywalker suddenly turns towards Hyoid, talking over him. “How many pills would it take to be considered a lethal dose, do you think?”

It is, of course, the one comment that ignites a virulent and pointless argument that makes the poor medic reconsider all his life choices and wonder if chloroforming Jedi generals would get him court-martialed.

After seven minutes of a loud and dramatic dispute ending with Skywalker promising to never take part in anything related to Kenobi anymore, except maybe his funeral, Hyoid decides to risk it.

#anakin: I can't believe I have to tenderly tend to this bastard's wounds #and take care of him for the rest of our lives #everyone: you don’t have to #anakin: no no I’m gonna #so when are they furiously kiss each other in the middle of a screaming row #obikin #clem's aus #fic i did write #jedi but enemies au

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midnightwinterhawk · 3 years

Text

I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom for the inspiration.

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos, it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

#hurt/comfort #angst #dark #hurt/no comfort #angst with a happy ending #fic rec #be kind to yourself and mind the tags #Sterek #Steter #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Peter Hale #hurt Stiles Stilinski #Sterek fic #Steter fic #to the pain

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Little Moments (That Help Me Heal)

Requested by @alphamoonlunala9391 "Can you do more parts of What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better please and maybe make the character a god hybrid reader"

and sort of @noctis-yeye

This is the Part three of You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now and What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better

Quackity x reader; Past mentioned Sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, existentialism? kind of? (Charlie being like, 'everything turns to dust so whats the point')

premise: it's like i said in the part two, its just gonna be a bunch of little scenes that happen in the two year gap, plus the wedding that would then happen at the end of part two for the last scene (no I don't really know how proper weddings go, all the ones i've been too were ~weird~ soooo...)

{to the asker who actually went in my inbox to request, I can't make reader a hybrid because its too late in the series to really change it}

{snowchester las nevadas conflict- we don't know her}

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"(y/n) from Las Nevadas?"

You glanced up from your work to find Charlie at your office door, "Yeah Charlie?"

"This place 'ill be around a while right? No- no explosions like L'manburg?" He slid into the room and dropped into one of the chairs in front of your desk.

You frowned, "How do you know about L'manburg?"

"I told you- I move slow, but I've seen a lot. L'manburg was nice- but then it was gone."

You sighed, "I know... I was there- all three times. L'manburg was my home before Las Nevadas."

"If you and Quackity from Las Nevadas want me to stay here- which it sounds like you do, I want to know: Las Nevadas will be around for a while, right? I don't want it to go to dust like everything else does."

"As much as we can help it Charlie," You glanced down at your desk, "I'm not gonna let another home get destroyed."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you made it to the top of the needle.

Purpled was still sitting near the edge of the deck where he'd stayed after you'd finished the tour. It seemed the only difference now, was that behind him the sky was dark, and speckled with stars.

"You got room for company kid?" You asked quietly.

He nodded, and you quickly moved to sit next to him, "So what do you think of the place?"

"'s alright." He mumbled.

"Charlie wasn't enough to scare you off?" You chuckled.

He shook his head, "Nah... Where did you find that guy?"

"Sneakin around one of the restaurants." You laughed.

"He's insane."

"Yeah no, probably." You sighed.

Purpled got quiet again, turning to look back out over the city, "Why'd you offer me a spot here? You said it wasn't a job, so why actually offer it to me?"

You frowned, thinking for a moment, "I guess- ever since L'manburg- I don't want to see anyone else suffering on this server, especially not any more of you kids. You deserve to have a place, and people looking out for you Purpled."

"You keep saying that- but why here? How come you two are the only ones that say that?" He snapped.

Shifting to lean against the railing, you sighed again, "Did you hear about Kinoko Kingdom, when it was founded?"

"Yeah. Karl, Sapnap and George did that, didn't they?"

You nodded, "You know we were supposed to marry Sap and Karl once, Quackity and I."

"Really?" He scoffed.

"Really. Cause we'd been dating, and they'd been dating, and then Karl started hitting on Quackity, and in retaliation Sapnap was hitting on me- anyway, it felt perfect and shit right?"

"Mhhhm."

"Well then one day, right before doomsday, Karl up and disappears, and of course we're worried, but there's a war on. So once its all over, Q was devastated, cause everything he built in El Rapids was gone. He'd always wanted to just make a place for us. He disappeared too.

"Sapnap and I split up to look for them, and planned to meet up here. But- they never turned up. One day we come to find out, they went and started there own place-" You stopped, clearing your throat, and shaking your head, "They abandoned us. I don't want anyone else getting abandoned. This server tried to abandon you Purp, but I'm not gonna let them."

When you looked back over at him, there was a small smile on his face, "...Thank you..."

"(y/n)! Guess who showed up today!"

You chuckled as you looked up to find Quackity leading Fundy toward where you sat at one of the tables under the needle with Charlie, "Fundy! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey (y/n)!" He smiled.

"Hello Fundy From L'manburg!" Charlie greeted excitedly.

Fundy's smile seemed to droop, "How did you know that...?"

"He knows a lot more than most people think," You said apologetically, "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Pretty alright, pretty alright." He nodded, sitting down at one of the open seats as Quackity plopped down next to you.

"That's good. It's good to see you're doing better!"

He nodded, "How have things been going over here?"

"Pretty good," Quackity grinned, "It'll be great to have another official partner on property. So far the only big one we've got living here is Purpled."

"You got Purpled to come here? Wow." Fundy chuckled.

You smiled, "Yeah, I think he's starting construction on a new UFO soon. You got any big plans for being here?"

"I'm not sure yet- but I'll figure it out," He smiled, "I've got a feeling that this place will be better than L'manburg ever could have been."

~~ "Babe, I made breakfast!"

You yawned, slowly sitting up at Quackity's call, "What kind of breakfast?"

"Pancakes!"

"And Purpled From Las Nevadas taught me to make the orange juice!" Charlie exclaimed from the kitchen.

You chuckled, getting up and tugging down the sleeves of one of Quackity's long since stolen hoodies.

Out in the kitchen, Charlie was setting a pitcher of orange juice on the table as Purpled set out plates, and Fundy dug around in a cabinet looking for syrup.

You moved over to where Quackity was flipping the last of the pancakes, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Good morning."

"Good morning babe." He chuckled.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, ignoring the overly exaggerated gaging noise Purpled made, "Keep it to yourself!"

"Keep what to myself Purpled from UFO?" Charlie asked.

"Not you idiot!" You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

Fundy laughed, sitting up and banging his head on the cabinet.

You smiled into Quackity's back, listening to the half chaos behind you happily.

~~ "Hey Ranboo!" You greeted cheerfully as he entered the office, "What brings you here?"

"Hi (y/n), I just wanted to ask you something."

"Mhhm." You nodded as he sat down.

"Well it's Tubbo and Tommy, I'm trying to help them with all the L'manburg Schlatt, Wilbur, stuff-" He broke off with a sigh, "I just don't know what I'm doing. They need help but- I don't even know how to deal with my own issues."

You frowned, "Is it nightmares? About the festival?- or Tommy's exile?"

"Yeah... how did you guess that?"

"I know a thing or two about nightmares," You sighed, "they don't really go away like that. You aren't doing anything wrong by not knowing what to do."

Ranboo stared down at his hands, "I just feel like I should be helping them more."

"You know what helped everyone around here? Creating a home- having a place or people, that helped Fundy and Purpled, and kind of Charlie? I still don't know his deal- Anyway! just be there for them, hell, bring them here, we'll all be here for you guys."

He looked up suddenly, "Why would you guys be- why would you offer us that? We're not in your allegiance."

"I know. But I don't think any of you kids deserve what this server gives you. Bring them here or not, you all have a place here if you want it." You assured him.

"Really?"

"Of course."

~~ "AYYYY Big Q!"

Tommy's yell cut through the semi loud sounds of the crowded apartment.

"Tommy! You came!" Quackity exclaimed, "Hey Tubbo! Hey Ranboo! And is that Michael?"

The piglin squealed, running past him into the apartment, toward Purpled's dog.

He laughed, "Well, come in guys, Fundy's getting the movie thing ready, and Purp and Charlie are getting snacks and things."

Ranboo followed Tommy and Tubbo into the room as Charlie came from the kitchen, carrying the bowel of chips Purpled had told him to bring out, "Hey! It's Tubbo Underscore Beloved From Snowchester! And Ranboo Beloved Underscore From {redacted}! And Tomathy Careful Danger Kraken Innit from L'manburg!"

Purpled, who'd stopped in the kitchen doorway, "Did he just make a bleeped out fucking noise with his mouth?"

"Yeah- yeah no he did." Fundy confirmed.

"Your middle name is Kraken?" You asked, shuffling out with a stack of blankets.

Tommy nodded, "Yup."

You laughed, "That's- kind of ridiculous, why would Philza saddle you with that?"

"Well 'es not my dad is 'e?" Tommy scoffed.

"Wait seriously?" Quackity asked.

Tubbo laughed, "You really thought...?"

You shook your head, "Whatever... Fundy what's the status on that movie?"

"I'm almost done." He reported.

"Right, everyone get comfortable then." You said, dropping the pile of blankets you had been carrying.

Quackity plopped down onto the couch, pulling you to sit with him as Tubbo and Ranboo began to make a nest of blankets between the arm chair where Purpled sat and the couch.

Charlie passed around snacks and Fundy finished setting up the projector as the move began.

~~ You sighed, turning and pressing your face into Quackity's shoulder, "Thank you."

It had been a week since Karl and Sapnap had left Las Nevadas, and your fiancé had insisted that you take time off of managing things.

"For what baby?" He asked softly.

"Everything. I love you."

"I love you too." He murmured.

You smiled softly, looking up at him, "How long until that wedding?"

~~ "You ready?" Charlie asked.

You turned to him, looking up from the paper on which you'd written your vows, "Yeah... I think so."

He grinned, "Let's go then!"

You nodded as he looped his arm through yours and you started toward the doorway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Las Nevadas!" He announced, "Here we go!"

You chuckled as you started down the isle with him, grinning at Quackity, who stood, looking already close to tears.

Purpled, Fundy, Sam, Tubbo, Tommy and Michael stood in various places around the alter, Foolish glancing down at the book he held open.

As you reached the alter, he started, "Dear people, we are gathered here today to witness the sort of? holy matrimony of (y/n) (y/l/n) and Alex Quackity. If anyone here has any objections to this union speak now, or hold your peace."

There was a silence, Michaels tiny snort being the only sound before Foolish continued, "This journey, which you have started together, will continue on now, as you walk, side by side, step by step, together, now joined in such a way that you can't really get rid of each other without a divorce."

Laughs and chuckles filled the wedding hall as Quackity shook his head, "Nope, you're stuck with me babe."

You laughed, "Good."

"Now, would you recite your vows?"

You pulled the paper from your pocket, "I'm going first. So, ever since we started seeing each other, we thought it would be you and me forever. Even after everything we went through, and even after Sapnap and Karl, its still you and me. I would say that its just you and me, but," You looked around at everyone,

"It's not just you and me, it's you and me and these guys. When we started this place, I knew that it would be difficult, especially with all the hurt that the SMP caused us. But, even as I was helping everyone here heal, you were helping me. Because you helped me find this family, and you- you gave me a thousand little moments that made me feel again.

A thousand moments that helped me heal."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy06 writes #teddy 06 writes

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

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thank you so much for reading!

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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Fight the good fight

Summary: You’re doing an interview for an upcoming movie and get treated with less respect than your male co-stars and they aren’t having it.

W/C: 1.9K

Warnings: Mentions of stress eating and struggles with food.

A/N: Please note that i have in no way intended for this to come across in a negative way in terms of weight. I have struggled personally with stress eating and i understand the unhealthy relationship that you have with food in the end and that is what i am talking about. I think everyone is beautiful, no matter what size or shape you may be, it’s what’s on the inside that counts!

You’d been in the spotlight for a long time. You’d started your acting career at the age of seven and had a really successful career. You were 23 now and had naturally moved into more adult themed films. You’d been really lucky to be cast alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet in an upcoming thriller. You were playing Holland’s love interest who ends up getting stalked by Chalamet’s character. You were really lucky that you got on so well with the two, the theme of the film could be quite difficult, and it was good to be able to have a laugh with your co-stars afterwards. During filming you’d developed a special relationship with Tom, you’d had to do a lot of scenes together that required the two of you to spend a lot of time with each other and getting to know each other inside and out. You’d gotten closer and naturally a real-life love relationship happened.

You were doing press with your co-stars and you’d been in interviews all day. To say you were tired would be putting it lightly. The day hadn’t gone so bad, some interviews better than others. You’d gathered this as soon as you turned 18, the questions shifted from being about the film to being about you and tended to be quite sexist in nature. You’d learned to deal with it over the years and some interviewers weren’t so bad, you’d not put up with it too much today. You were hoping that this final interview would run smoothly, and you could get into bed, cuddle up with Tom and sleep the night away.

“I can’t wait for this last interview; I love my job, but press can be so tiring!” Timothée said as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. You were all sat in position, waiting for the interview to start, you were situated in the middle of them.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” You agreed.

“Do you guys wanna borrow some of my energy, I have loads spare.” Tom laughed; he was always the more energised of the three of you. This pulled a laugh from both of you as the interviewer started. He seemed nice enough, but you’d been sat there almost five minutes before he actually addressed you.

“So Y/N? How did you find getting to play alongside Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet?” Here we go. Although you didn’t mind answering questions like this and they were quite tame in comparison to some questions, it was more the fact that at this point both Tom and Timothée had been asked more direct questions about their parts in the film and you hadn’t. You hoped this wasn’t going to go in the direction you thought it was.

“Yeah, it was amazing! They are both lovely guys, it was an honour.” You answered in a polite manner. Maybe you were tired and read too much into the question.

“So did you diet for the film Y/N?”

“Not really.” You laughed, not entirely sure were this was going.

“Did you work out at all?” Again, where was this going?

“Not really. Not more than I usually do.”

“Well I just thought maybe you had been doing. Your legs looked great!” Here we go. You cleared your throat before you answered.

“Is that what you took away from watching it?” You teased, trying to keep the interview light-hearted.

“Well no. But it certainly was a standout feature of yours.” The interviewer laughed. Tom and Timothée didn’t, they knew how much questions like this annoyed you and it made them feel uncomfortable. You were here to promote a movie.

“I’ll remember that for my next film. When the director says he’ll pay a load of money for a dialect coach, I’ll just tell them not to bother. People will be more interested in my legs than my acting!” You answered in a jokey manner, this pulled a laugh from your two male co-stars.

“No no! I mean your acting was amazing Y/N, don’t get me wrong! But I feel like a good body deserves a compliment, that’s all!” The interviewer tried to joke, this made you uncomfortable.

“Timothée your acting was amazing but maybe you should have worked out more with me, your arms looked smaller than mine.” Tom joked as he too tried to shift the attention away from talks of your body. Timothée quickly catching on as he feigned upset before laughing and flexing his arm.

“You wish Tom, you wish.”

The interview continued on and whilst you got no direct questions about your acting or your role the attention wasn’t on you or your body. Until it was.

“So Y/N? You’re 23 now, right? Have you thought about having a family?” You groaned at the question.

“Yeah, I want a family but when the time feels right.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t want to prematurely end your career I suppose?”

“Why would that end my career. Loads of actors have children and carry on acting.” You fired back. You really hated this question because you could guarantee that if either of the boys were asked this question, it would not be followed up with insinuations that it would be career ending.

“Well not many women.”

“If you believe that, I’ll assume you’ve not done much research.” You shot back. You were visibly annoyed now, which didn’t go unnoticed by the males either side of you.

“I don’t think Y/N has to answer that! She answered your question about a family so maybe we should leave it at that, yeah? It’s Y/N’s life and I think she should be left to live it as she wants.” Timothée defended you. The interviewer shrugged but left it at that. Tom had tensed slightly at the exchange but ultimately kept quiet. That wouldn’t last long as the interviewer brought up his next question.

“Y/N? You have had a struggle with food I’ve read?” The question threw you off guard, yes, you’d recently been open about your battle with stress eating and your unhealthy relationship with food, but you weren’t prepared for the question. Usually you were prepared beforehand, and the interviewer would tell you if they were bringing it up, it was sort of a requirement of yours. You glanced at your manager off screen who looked as shocked as you felt.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand the question. It’s not relevant to the film that I’m here promoting.” You answered carefully.

“No, no of course but you seem to be doing better now than you were a few years ago.” He pushed. Tom tensed further, he knew about your past struggles, and how much talking about it unprepared upset you. “There was a period of time where you were quite big.”

“Erm. I’m really sorry but do you have any questions about the film? I’m not comfortable talking about this.” You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, Tom’s hand shot out to your thigh in comfort, he knew you were getting anxious.

“I was just wondering if you had a problem with that part of your life. You know being bigger?”

“Listen. It’s not that at all. I have no issue with people’s weight, if that’s where you’re trying to go. I’ve talked about this and I absolutely believe that people should be whatever size makes them happy, we are all beautiful just as we are, and I genuinely believe that. What I talked about is the dangers and struggles I had with food. Yes, I was bigger, but my issue was not with my weight, it was with my unhealthy relationship with food and what I was doing to myself through that.” You answered, you felt frustrated, uncomfortable and you were beyond tired now, just wanting to get out of the interview. You took a deep breath before you spoke. “Look, can we just move away from this?” You pleaded.

The interviewer threw his hands up in defence. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

“You weren’t, though were you?” Tom’s voice startled all of you. “You were trying to make it sound like she has an issue with bigger people, which as she has spoken about extensively, she doesn’t. You were pushing her into answering a question she didn’t want to answer. You brought her weight up for no plausible reason, I think it’s you who has the problem with bigger people, if I’m being honest. So what she was bigger? She looked as beautiful then as she does now, as all women do. It’s because of people like you that women struggle with body image and it’s not fair, it has to stop.” Tom ranted as his face went red, he was annoyed you could tell that much. Your heart soared that he was defending not just you, but all women.

“You have been consistently rude to her. I don’t think I’ve heard a single question directed at her that was to do with the film. I hate that men like you think it’s okay to ask women these sorts of questions. You commented on her diet and working out as well as her intentions for a family and if it would harm her career. Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because she’s a woman and you think it’s okay, you seem to think that she doesn’t deserve the respect of being asked the same questions that men do. It’s not right and it needs to stop, she has worked just as hard as us to make sure this film is as good as it can be and she deserves the respect, as all women do.” He finished as he grabbed your hand, stood up and left the interview. You in tow, completely in awe of him.

“Yeah man. Do better.” Timothée said as he followed, leaving the interviewer shocked and humiliated.

Tom took you backstage. He dropped your hand and took a deep breath before turning around to face you.

“I’m sorry I jumped in like that. It’s not that I don’t think you can handle it, I’m just so sick of men like him. I know that you can handle people like that, but you shouldn’t have to and that was the point I was trying to make I guess.” He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s alright. I’m happy you did. Thank you. it’s nice to know that women don’t have to fight this fight alone and yes, I could’ve handled it but in a way I’m glad it annoys you as much as it does me. I think it will be important for the younger women in your fan base to know that you stick up for women and hold them equal to men. It’s an important message.” You said as you hugged him and kissed his chest. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“It just makes me sad that you have to put up with this kind of thing.”

“I know. But hopefully we can make a change. We need to keep fighting the good fight.”

You stayed like that for a while before pulling apart and making your way back to your hotel room. It’d been a long day, but you were glad you had your co-stars there to defend you. Glad to finally be snuggled up in bed with Tom.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

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