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chroniclesofbts · 3 months

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Break my Walls P. 1

Genre: A/B/O, Poly BTS and Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter, eventual smut, slow burn, angst, fluff

“Get up Omega, Alpha Dae wants the whole pack preparing for the Choi packs arrival” Beta San said, throwing my covers on the ground.

“And what is the rule about making a nest?” He questioned.

“It’s not a-” I cut myself off, “nests are a waste of time and resources that Alphas need.”

“At least you can remember the rules, get dressed and get downstairs” he barked walking out of the room.

I pick up the sheets off the ground and flatten them on the bed. I move the pillows back to the head of the bed. I must have moved them in my sleep again. I sighed, heading to the chest at the end of the bed and pulled out my only pair of jeans and a T-shirt left by one of the older Omegas. Pulling my hair back into a pony tail, I begin to climb down the ladder from the attic where the omegas sleep.

Omegas in the Kang pack are at the bottom of the totem pole, just like in every other pack. We are taught to stay out of sight unless called upon and obey orders. Omegas are good for pleasure and pups. Next month, I step into that role, replacing an omega who forgot her place, at least that’s what Pack Alpha Dae said.

“Y/N! Come quick, before Alpha Dae sees that you’re late” Sunhee whispered, motioning to the spot beside her. Sunhee was another Omega in my pack, she has been Alpha Dae’s personal Omega for 3 years now. The longest any Omega has lasted. She works hard, always showing off Alpha Dae’s marks. She’s already proven herself useful to the pack, having a little boy last summer. He looks just like Alpha Dae, everyone knows he will be an Alpha. After all, Sunhee is still here.

“Omegas! I want tonight’s dinner to be perfect! We have just received word that two more packs will be joining us. Both Lee and Kim will arrive at 5 P.M. so I expect this house spotless and food ready by then” Alpha Dae announced before going to his chambers, signaling Sunhee to follow.

“Alpha Dae muse be stressed to pull Sunhee to his chambers immediately” Hana whispered to me before grabbing the cleaning supplies and leaving.

“Y/N, you are in charge of dessert. We always get such positive reviews from our guests when you make them. The rest of you, same jobs as usual” Hei-Ran, our pack omega stated. All Omegas immediately got to work, preparing for three packs to arrive by the end of the day.

*4:30 P.M.*

Pulling the last pie from the oven, I set it on the counter with the rest of the desserts. I prayed that I made enough, or else Alpha Dae would see that I was punished. Our pack has 150 people, 100 Alphas, 30 Betas, and 20 Omegas. The Choi pack is similar in numbers, with more 120 Alphas, 10 Betas, and 20 Omegas. The Omegas and the Betas don’t eat what the Alphas eat usually, but with the news of the Lee and Kim pack joining, Alpha Dae has made a room for the Betas and a room for the Omegas to dine. The Lee pack is the second most sought after pack, with only nine people, they don’t accept new members frequently. The last Alpha that joined their all Alpha pack was six years ago. The Kim Pack is the top sought after pack, and quite the mystery. All that’s known of them is that they were in a different pack and left together. There’s seven people, no one knows what their sub gender is, just that they are all men. They all wear scent blockers and make decisions together, leading most to believe they are all Alphas. They don’t take in new members and rarely come out to meet with other packs.

“Please tell me the desserts are done, Y/N” Sunhee said, walking into the kitchen. She had a few new bruises and reeked of Alpha Dae. “The Kim pack just arrived, and Alpha Dae is panicking. You’d think he was being attacked” she continued, looking at all of the desserts on the counters.

“Don’t touch them, they are still hot. Also, this section goes to the Alpha’s table. These are the Omega desserts” I pointed, while cleaning up.

Voices drifted down the hall, Alpha Dae giving a tour to the Kim Pack. The rumors were true, the only scent I could pick up was Alpha Dae’s.

“And this is the kitchen!” Alpha Dae exclaimed. I immediately dropped my eyes to the floor, giving a small bow to the pack.

“Our Omegas worked hard to prepare today’s meal, our desserts are well known by the pack too. You all chose a great day to visit.”

“Thank you for having us on such short notice, The Choi pack has asked for our input on today’s meeting.” The voice was strong and confident, clearly their pack Alpha.

“The desserts smell wonderful, I am sure they will taste just as good” an angelic voice spoke, their compliment causing heat to creep up my neck.

“Let’s continue on with the tour” Alpha Dae said, as footsteps left the kitchen.

“You should follow your pack, Sir. Our Alpha doesn’t take kindly to his Omegas being in the presence of other packs.” Sunhee spoke lowly, trying to keep our pack Alpha from hearing. This cause me to look up to see who she was speaking to. There in the doorway to the kitchen, stood the most beautiful man I have ever seen. It’s unfair how good looking he was. His hair was dark, and longer than any of our pack members were allowed to wear it. His lips were plump, pulled into a small grin. He was tall and had broad shoulders, barely fitting in the frame of the door. And his eyes, they were locked right on me. I immediately looked away and began portioning the desserts. Uncomfortable with receiving anyone’s attention.

“Your Alpha sure does like to mark what’s his, doesn’t he?” The man addressed Sunhee.

“And yours must not be worried about another Alpha trying to take what’s his” Sunhee shot back, causing the man to chuckle.

“Oh we all like to leave our marks on one another, our marks just would never be left with such carelessness. We like our marks to show our love, not stake a claim” he replied.

“Sunhee! Show the Kim pack their rooms!” Alpha Dae demanded from upstairs, ignorant that he was missing one of the pack members. Sunhee rushed upstairs, leaving me alone with the strange man.

“You made all of these?” He asked me, coming closer to see the variety of desserts I was placing on trays.

“Yes sir” I responded, trying to focus on placing the desserts perfectly, with my shaking hands. Having this man standing so close made you nervous, and not just because of his beauty.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” You ask, certain that was the only reason he was still in the kitchen. Maybe he was hungry, his pack did travel a long way to reach yours.

“I do not need anything, just the conversation of a pretty girl” he replied smoothly, confusing you. His pack wasn’t know to go out of their way to have conversations with anyone. What exactly did he want from you.

“Well, Sunhee should return any moment” you say, moving into the Omega trays.

“Those are Omega specific desserts, aren’t they.”he states more than questions.

“They are, how did you know that?” You paused, glancing at him.

“Jin hyung! There you are, come, we have to change before dinner begins.” A different man stated as he bounced into the kitchen. His hair was similar length as Jin’s was and he was the same height. His lips formed a heart when he smiled, he was full of energy.

“I am coming Hobi, was just admiring the work of this Omega” Jin replied, pushing him out of the door. I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Oh, and Omega? I wasn’t speaking of Sunhee earlier” he winked, before disappearing from view. I felt my face heat up from his words. What a strange man, he must not have really looked at Sunhee. Or maybe it was because she still held Alpha Dae’s scent.

Lost in my thoughts as I went back to the attic to change, I failed to look where I was going, running straight into someone’s chest.

“Woah, sorry Omega, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” The voice said, grabbing ahold of my shoulders to steady me. “My names Namjoon, you were one of the Omegas in the kitchen. Your desserts smelled amazing. Jin said how you had desserts dedicated to Omegas. He was very impressed with your knowledge and variety of desserts.”

“Oh, it’s not often I get to make omega desserts, I had to make as many as I could for my packs omegas to experience” I rambled, freezing when I realized what I had said to a member of another pack. I looked up in alarm, waiting for the punishment of disrespecting my pack’s alphas, only to be met with a look of confusion.

“Why would-” He began, only to be interrupted my one of my alphas.

“Omega, clothes, now!” He barked, forcing my limbs to move, even if I didn’t want to. Leaving Namjoon standing in the hallway confused, as he watches me follow a command.

#kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #park jimin #bts ot7 #a/b/o dynamics #x reader #eventual smut #slow burn

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bimbodoggie · 1 year

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cybersex • (simon “ghost” riley x camgirl!reader)

contents/warnings: fem reader, consensual filming, toys, mean!dom simon, impregnating mention, face sitting, yourself on the shelf position, reader is plus sized, size kink, hair pulling, also simon is an asshole, oh also simon has a jacob’s ladder teehee :3

a/n: i started school and this semester has been beating my ass, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!, all art is by @ave661

your job was way easier than simon’s, you’d play dress up and take pretty pictures and videos for thousands of people on the internet….but simon he didn’t mind it because he knew that you were untouchable.

sometimes it did bother him tho, the fact others got to see what was his on the daily, but you could quit anytime you wanted, but this particular day it was different. the way simon was acting was kind of….strange, but then again he’s a 6’2 1/2 man who parades in a skull eggshell mask and the occasional balaclava with gunpowder or charcoal to match

all day your mind was filled by your thoughts of how he’s probably on the verge of breaking up with you right now, but then again this is the same man who spent his free time on base using your photos and videos as jerk bait….the front door creaked open and the sound of his boots and duffle bag hit the floor, its like this man had no trace of sound because next thing you know you two were eye to eye staring at each other.

it was embarrassing to say the least because well, you were naked and vulnerable…the only noise that came from his mouth was a satisfied grunt followed by a quick kiss on the mouth, you decided breaking the silence first was the best thing to do considering…

“are you leaving me?” was the question of the day, he froze, like a deer in headlights…if only you knew that was the complete opposite of what needed to be said from his mouth…once again silence filled the room as he walked over and shut off your camera which made you wonder even more about what his next move was

“you know, i’ve been thinking…that maybe instead of being being the director i get my role of the old pervert, something we can both remember yeah?”

what the fuck…is this the big secret he was storing away in his file cabinet? a fantasy, your mouth opened and closed, simon’s reaction was pretty expected, a hearty laugh a booming one at that…

“cmon use your words i know somewhere in that empty brain of yours you can conjure up a couple words yeah?”

instead of a verbal response which he wanted you just shook your head and ignored him which you would have to pay the price later but who cares at least him leaving you isn’t in the equation.

without warning simon picked you up and put you on the bed, looking you in your eyes to indicate that you either was going to break or he was going to break you.

he lifted his mask and started kissing from your neck all the way down to your malleolus bone, this man knew your body like the back of his hand, all the sensitive spots, where to lick, bite and touch he knew it all. he paused to turn on the camera.

“the first thing you’re gonna do is get on your knees and tell the audience what you’re doing today, then depending on how good you are i’ll let you be in charge for a little how does that sound lovey”

your brain circuited and was now functioning off of the commands from simon you scrambled from the bed to the floor…your big eyes met his lifeless ones.

“hi- hi everyone today i will be letting my boyfriend ghost be in my- my vids”

this was humiliating but you enjoyed every single moment, your mouth met his tip which was glistening with pre and begging to be touched, his cock was decorated with piercing jewelry which was a stimulant for your cunt, with his free hand he grabbed a fistful of hair and guided you to what he wanted to do, after that nothing but grunts and degrading phrases bounced around the walls

before he was remotely close to finishing he then picked you up and fucked into you, it was too much to bare, thousands of people watching you and how your boyfriend abuses your cunt on the daily basis, simon’s hand came into contact with your ass groping it, and leaving marks which will show in the morning

there was a heart shaped, light pink butt plug jewel which sparkled in the reflection of the light, the sounds of skin filled the room as you cried out for him to be gentle, he ignored your plea but instead moved a little closer to the camera putting your holes on display for thousands to see

user239329849: he’s such a lucky man

anon3453905: i would do anything to get my hands on her

simon laughed at the desperation comments that entailed of men and their sick fantasies, but simon was the only one who could act on them…he then put you down and signaled you to sit on his face, as much as you wanted to tell him your cunt was saying too much, you wanted him and needed him…the way his warm tongue consoled your weeping cunt had you in tears, the whining and crying for him to slow down was non existent to him.

he then positioned you to where your face was in the camera while he spread open the globes of your brown ass, “gonna give you a baby, i always know when you’re ovulating, i always track it on my calendar in my phone to make sure i get you pregnant” he rasped as he increased his pace….so much was going on which made you wonder if you could take him or not

he wanted a view of how your skin turned red at the sight of him battering your insides like it was some sick recipe…. “si baby, please im just please” your replied to him as he looked you in the eyes, a light slap from his hand was to question if you were still there or if you was just brainless, you started babbling incoherent sentences which was an indication to simon you were close, he took his hand pressed it again your lower abdomen…you tried you really did but he knew your body like a map

“you really are braindead, just a hole f’me and nothin else yea?”

that sent you overboard, it was enough with the jewelry that decorated his cock, you felt the band in your stomach pop making you to make a mess, it felt as if he planned this, he was sick but you liked it….he then turn your ass and cunt to the camera to show the cum leaking out of your throbbing hole….a sloppy kiss from simon was all you needed, you felt like he was breaking you

“touch her and i will find you personally and kill you”

he then ended the live stream to give you aftercare but deep down you knew he was serious

#cod mw2 smut #simon ghost riley smut #callofdutysmut #simon riley x black!reader #call of duty smut #codsmut #simon riley smut #dom!simonriley #simon riley plus sized!reader

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grippingbeskar · 11 months

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unearthed

chapter seven - envied

warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, mentions of death, dead family members (gonna be a running thing just a fair warning) ummmmm think that’s it?

a/n: just a sprinkle of angst for your thursday/wednesday whatever it is. <3

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Space was calming.

You don’t remember the last time you haven’t been rushed through it in light-speed, the stars hardly a flash of white light fading behind you as you reach the next destination. Here, wrapped in a sea of old jackets and left over material with your legs tucked under your chin, you can almost count how many stars float past the slow moving ship as Din manually navigates the complicated belt of asteroids.

The holo-pads coordinates were leading you way out past the Outer Rim, and the only planets out here were un-inhabitable or deserted. Also long abandoned, considering the complicated path you had to take to reach the tiny blinking light in the navigator. Din had said you were still a few hours out, because the asteroid belt was so densely packed, he wouldn’t be able to fly at any speed above a crawl. Even at this pace, you still flinched every so often when a loud scrape vibrates through the structures of the Crest, and you can only image the paint job this thing will need when you finally land.

He thinks you’re still asleep— thanks to your groggy head and half fall down the ladder yesterday, it’s been easy to get out of taking shifts in navigating. You’d actually tried, offering to let him at least sleep a few hours, but all you got was a blank stare and a couple questions about why you were walking around at 3am.

You think he likes it. He’s in control here, and it’s clear that he feels more confident behind the controls of a ship than at the helm of a planet. He hardly has to move, easily swerving through what looks like a sea of rocky spikes while still holding the little baby in his opposite arm, letting him fiddle with a metal ball.

You, however, are well out of your depth. The extent of your training is speaking in front of crowds or charming the pants off a few senators— but open space and an unknown location full of possible dangers is out of your wheelhouse. And, as nervous as it makes you, this is exactly the kind of thing you wanted to do before you had to take the crown. Before all the responsibility of leading a planet fell on you— this was pretty much exactly what you thought you’d be doing. Minus the bombing and the husband.

“Put it down.” Dins low voice shakes you from thought, and your eyes focus on him again, the bright shine of stars dimming slightly when your eyes catch on him. “No. Down.”

The baby babbles in his arms, and he shushes him before taking the metal ball and returning it to its place on the control board. To the kids credit he does wait— a few seconds at least, before snatching the ball back. You hear Din sigh loudly, but he tucks the kid a little closer at his side anyways. Your smile is hidden under the pile of blankets you hide under, but you’re only human.

That is a very, very cute sight. Your husband and his child.

You nearly alert him to your consciousness when you shiver from that thought.

It only makes you think about your short lived time on Tattooine. How he told Peli, with such a rich tone of confidence— almost like pride, that you were his.

His wife.

You sink further into the chair, watching the two of them making you feel increasingly relaxed, and Din leans back further, obscuring the kid from view. Now, as your eyes focus, all you can see is his stretched out form. The chair is shrunk in his frame— all long planes of beskar and straining dark material, and you bite down on your lip when his arm comes from the control pad and strings lazily along the arm rest.

You shift under the blankets again, feeling too hot. He was too dreamy for his own good, that was for damn sure. If he had even turned his head slightly he would have seen the moon eyes you were making at him. You quickly shut your eyes again when he moves, and you don’t know why the thought of him knowing your true feelings elicits such a terrifying surge.

Your fake sleep is interrupted, though, when a crackling voice comes through the broken speaker of the Crest.

“This is New Republic controlled territory. Share your navigation guide and open your lines or we will be forced to manually override.” You roll your eyes at the sound. As good as the New Republic we’re at driving out the Empire, they sure can be irritating.

You sit up and Din looks at you, watching as you stand on legs that are surprisingly stable. Apparently 24 hours of sleep will fix everything.

“Share your navigation guide, or we will be forced to manually override.” The New Republic cruiser repeats through the speaker, and you go to press the button that opens the line before Dins hand stops you.

“We open the nav guide, and they start asking questions.” He says cooly. He’s right, too. If these pilots get a whiff that you might be tracking important tech from the Empire, it’ll all be gone before you can get your answers. Not to mention the holo-pad full of illegal tech you got from Dins friend, Peli. The last thing you want to do is lead them back to her.

The pilots repeat their words, a finality to their warning.

“We have to say something.” Din looks around at the asteroid filled field of vision, and shakes his head.

“I can’t get us to light speed in here. We’d turn to chunks before we outran them.”

“Which is why we have to say something.” You reach toward the button to speak again, and he all but swats your hand away. “Din.”

“Just let me think.” You roll your eyes, and once he’s distracted, you spin his chair slightly out of the way and move onto your knees in front of the control pad. You shove your way in so he can’t move back fast enough to stop you, and push the stupid button anyways.

“Hello!” You say brightly, and you hear Din sigh over the crackle of the speaker. You say your full name into the speaker, introducing yourself as warmly as you’ve been trained to. “I am so glad the New Republic maintains their vigorous patrols even this far from home. It’s a delight to hear such familiar voices.”

“Was that— I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t realise you’d be flying in a ship like …this. It’s more run down than we’re used to seeing you travel in.” The man apologises, and Din sits up a bit straighter. You try not to laugh at the way his head tilts at the insult to his poor little ship.

“Ah, yes, well it’s not really my ship, but my… um— my uh—“ Don’t look back at him. Stars— why is this so nerve-wracking? He’s already said it! You wished you had his confident bravado. “My husbands. Ship. We’re taking a little— ride. You know how it is.”

“Oh! Congratulations, Your Highness! We hadn’t heard about your marriage.” The pilot seems to be completely distracted by the fact you are blocking all their attempts to reach your navigation systems. “A strange spot for a honeymoon, though, isn’t it? I’ve heard Naboo is much more popular.”

You laugh lightly, eyes widening at Din. “Yes, of course! It’s definitely— on the agenda. But, my husband and I are very fond of a bit of competition, and when I saw this asteroid belt on the horizon I couldn’t resist a little bet that he couldn’t make it through in a time.” Din tilts his head at you, and you shrug. “Right… babe?”

“Yep.” Din adds, and sits back like he’s done something helpful.

“I promise we will be out of here as soon as he admits he can’t really make it through here.” You try to fake laugh again, and there’s a frozen silence along the line.

Maybe they’d refocused. Maybe they’d realised where you were really heading— and that you weren’t sharing any of your information with them. You shut your eyes, hoping to the stars you were at least influential enough to knock these novice pilots off your backs. A few more seconds of silence caused Din to flick on the hyperdrive, and it was a death sentence in a place as condensed as this. Your eyes shoot open and shake your head—

“Well, make sure you don’t spend too much time out here. A ship like this would break down in a strong breeze, let alone an asteroid belt.” The pilot laughs, and you only do because Din grumbles something you can’t understand. “If you need a guide out, I’d be happy to show your husband how a real pilot flies.”

The words aren’t particularly combative. Maybe a little teasing. And surely, Din is just feeling protective over the few flippant insults about his beloved ship, but as soon as the pilot finishes talking, Din leans forward over your shoulder and gets close to the speaker.

“We’re fine.” He says in that signature low voice, the modulator of his helmet making him sound even more imposing than you think he sounds normally. He’s so close, hanging over your shoulder that warmth spreads up over your spine and nearly makes you hum as loud as the ship.

The pilots are then cut off by Din, and he starts the Crest forward, zipping through the belt asteroid by asteroid, with a far more precise trajectory than before.

You wouldn’t say anything, and it probably wasn’t true. But you think, if he ever was jealous, that this is what it would be like.

It’s kind of a good look on him.

Din was delaying the trip on purpose. He was flying slow on purpose— because you were still hurt, and he was making sure you had time to rest. If these kriffing pilots wanted a speed race, he’d split them to pieces before they ever caught sight of him—

“So, you’re welcome.” You sit back down in your chair, and Din misses the close confines of having you crouched in front of him. “For that.”

“I had it handled.” He says, adjusting the flight path while looking over at you.

“Oh, right. Sorry— what was it you said? ‘Yep’? Of course. Very, very helpful. I’m in your debt.” He sees your smart little smirk, and it draws his attention almost entirely away from the life threatening asteroid belt. You were addicting like that, especially when you were like this. Smiling at him. “You think they’ll follow us?”

“Unless you wanna take that pilot up on his flight lesson, I think they bought it.” It comes out more bitter than he planned, the modulator doing nothing to hide the small burn of jealousy.

And he was. Jealous. It was only for a second, but he felt… possessive of you. He had a right to. You were nearly killed under his watch only two days ago— he was looking out for you. As he should. He was… your husband, now. Whether it was the perfect start or not, he couldn’t help but feel attached to you— closer than he’d let anyone get.

“Careful, Din. You’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend.” You laugh, as if it’s such a far off thing. He looks away, and your laughter dies down. “How long until we get to the end of this?”

“Still an hour or so. The path out starts to open up, so if we get a good run we should make it to the planet before nightfall.” Distracted, he looks down at the nav guide for the millionth time, seeing the map clustered with debris.

He almost wanted to find a way to prolong this. Outside of this ship was back to business. He knew he couldn’t keep you here longer than nessecary— you had a planet to lead, and so did he. But up here, inside a place so hard to get to that neither of your responsibilities could reach you, he could pretend he was still just a bounty hunter, and you were— no.

Even in his fantasies, you still happened to be his.

“How’d you learn to fly like this?” You ask softly, your chair now turned as much to him as you can.

“Trial and error.” He says, and you roll your eyes. “This isn’t my first ship— I flew anything I could get my hands on, and rode it until it died.”

“So, you just kept crashing ships until you learned how to fly?” Din shrugged. “Seems expensive.”

“Motivation. When I crashed it, I had to fix it. It made me learn about all the parts of the ship— how to take it apart, put it back together. It was hard work. You don’t want to crash at all, but you really don’t want to when you have to spend the next six weeks fixing the parts you smashed.” That gets another laugh out of you, each one like a part of a song Din didn’t know he needed to hear. “You fly?”

“Small ships. Speeders— my mom used to race them.” Din makes a noise, and you smile. At him. “Serious! She was insane. We have a speeder track on my home planet. Every year on her birthday, they used to have these massive races. Everyone… everyone loved her. My people were shit racers, and it took the whole of the next year to put them all back together, but they loved it for her.”

Din watches your face rise and fall with the emotion, and he wants to tell you he understands. He wants to reach out— to chip away at a small piece of his own armour, let a wall down like you seemed to do with ease. You were vulnerable, but it never seemed like a weakness. It only made you more admirable. It wouldn’t work like that for him.

“Your home planet—“

“Don’t tell me you forgot the name.” You say incredulously, a teasing smile on your face.

“Lwhekk. Ssi-ruuk Star Cluster. 6th orbital position, Type One atmosphere—“

“Alright, alright.” You wave him off, but he can tell he’s impressed you a little. He sits up a bit taller at that. “What about it?”

“You learnt to fly in that atmosphere?” You nod, not sure of where he’s going. He smiles, even though you can’t see it. “It’s different flying out here.”

“How so?”

“It’s… lighter. The ship moves easier. It almost glides.” He looks back out to the darkness of space in front of him, and he’s reminded why he finds it so calming. “You’ve never flown in space?”

“I just never got the chance— by the time I was old enough, it wasn’t ‘becoming of a princess’ to fly her own ship. My mom and dad let me do what I wanted at home, but even the Queen only has so much freedom.” He doesn’t like how small that makes you sound. There’s a longing there, and it gives Din an idea.

“The Queen of Mandalore does as she wants.” He says simply, and you lean a little closer, like he’s drawing you in. “You want to fly?”

“Now?!” Your eyes must pop out of your head, because he laughs, and the sound makes your cheeks heat even more. “I feel like I should take a beginners course.”

“You’ve flown before.” He says, as if flying something as small as a T-47 no higher than your home is the same as flying the Crest in an asteroid belt. “You’ll be fine.”

“Din, I really don’t think I should—“

“Don’t worry about scratching the paint. It’ll blend in.” He says, standing from the chair and urging you over. Grogu babbles excitedly, and you want to roll your eyes at the little gremlin, clearly taking his fathers side in everything.

Truthfully, you want to burst out of your seat. Being around Din for a few weeks has been some of the most exciting times of your reign. You’ve seen more, experienced more things in a few short days than you have in a lifetime of being sheltered. One would think being a Queen meant seeing great places and doing spectacular things— and you had, but it was all… controlled. Organised. This, out here, was completely out of your hands, and it thrilled you to the core.

So, trying to tame your own curiosity, you got up slowly and shuffled over to the pilots chair.

“If I crash and kill us all, I’ll be blaming my wise old teacher. You know that, right?” You look over your shoulder, and then you see how close he is, and turn right back around.

“I’m not that old.” You hear, and smile to yourself. He’s got two gloved hands on the edge of your seat, his broad frame wider than the seat itself, so he nearly wraps around the side of you. He’s leaning over so he can see the controls— and when you sit back, it smells like him. Earthy— sort of like dirt, and cedar… something you’d find in the woods. He smells like what you imagine Endor to smell like. Rain and wood, all strong and overwhelming.

“It’s manual navigation.” He says, and your thoughts scramble together to form one coherent ‘okay…’ before you look up. “Might want to put your hands on the controls, then.”

“Right. Right…” You spring into action quickly, assessing the comp screen and seeing all the tiny dotted obstacles in your way. He leans closer, one hand gliding down the side of the chair, and your breath wavers as it exits.

Every time he gets close to you, all your thoughts of professionalism fly out the window. You don’t know why— you’ve flirted with hundreds of officials, charmed senators and administrators, even winked and laughed your way to a few free drinks at a bar, and not once has your heart ever dared interrupt your efforts. But this… these tiny hints of touches from behind a suit of armour had your mind spinning faster than the asteroids around you.

“Just take it nice and easy.” His voice nearly makes you flinch. It hangs over your right shoulder, and if he wasn’t wearing a helmet, you’d be able to feel his breath on your cheek. “Slow. Like I said— she’ll glide. You just have to keep the shifts gentle.”

You suck in another shuddered breath and do as he says. The stick in your right hand isn’t as easy to ‘glide’ with as the left, so while your changes in direction were smooth, changing your height was clunky and jagged. Something hits the roof of the Razor Crest, and you cringe and go to pull yourself off the controls.

Dins’ hands hold your own back down, and he leans right over so the edge of his helmet rests softly on your shoulder.

Your mouth opens slightly, finding it harder to breathe with him this close. He was everywhere— the smell of him, the feel, the sound of his calming words that were far too easy to imagine describing a hundred other scenarios and sensations rather than flying a fucking ship.

“You can do it. Just take it nice… and slow.” He guides, letting your left hand go and bringing his own back to the side of the chair. The right hand stays locked on your own, showing you how to smooth your movements on the gear stick. “There you go. See how easy it is?”

“Only c—“ You stutter, and squeeze your eyes shut just for a second, grateful he can’t see you. “Only cause it’s half you doing it.”

“This is all you. You’re doing good. Keep going.” His fingers slip over yours, threading in between your knuckles. The tantalising, borderline cruel softness of his touch makes you feel drunk, and completely incapable of operating heavy machines, but with his guidance, just about anything feels easy.

He stays this way, pressed around you as he lets you guide the Crest through the last twenty minutes of the belt. His hand never leaves the top of yours, even when he’s no longer guiding you. Instead, it wanders slightly higher, resting where his thumb and pinky finger can wrap around the sides of your wrist, supporting. Waiting for you to need him. You almost mess up a few times just to keep his grip strong and firm, but you don’t need to.

He never lets go.

When the end of the asteroids breaks through, and you’re left with nothing but open space, you forget how close he is and turn quickly— grinning.

“See? Easy.” His smooth voice drips like honey over your chest, nearly vibrating with how low and close they hit you. Your body buzzed being this near to him, and as he goes to pull away his hand, you can’t help yourself.

Your own hand grabs at him. It’s quick— lighting fast and near desperate. It reminds you of the death grip you had on him when the Armourer had you take the vows in front of Mandalore. You grip him hard, and he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in, and says your name.

“Din.” You whisper back to him, your eyes set wide and questioning. His helmet is unnerving like this— looming over your face, giving you no indication of what he feels. Does he want you to let go? To back away? To… hold him closer?

You loosen your grip enough for him to slip away if he wants to. He notices, but doesn’t take the out.

Instead, his free hand rises to cup your face, and you sigh, sinking into the slight touch. Your face almost nuzzles into his gloved palm, like a loth-cat’s first run of a hand through its fur. His thumb brushes your skin, the pad of his glove catching over the soft surface of your cheekbone, and when he stills, his hand brings you higher. You follow it, craning your neck, until your mouth hovers right over where his mouth would be under the helmet.

He calls your name again, and you hand realised your eye were closed. When he speaks, the words sound stunted. Like something about you holding him was painful.

“What do you need, cyar’ika?” He asks, and then his hand slowly moves again. Your lashes flutter, anticipation simmering in your veins, his fingers catching under neath your jaw and tilting you higher. Any more, and your lips would brush against beskar.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” You answer truthfully, and for some reason you feel tears starting to well in your eyes.

“Hm.” His hand locks on your chin.

“Din.” You breathe, and he sighs.

“I like how you say my name.” The confession topples out of him in a hushed whisper, and your mouth drops slightly agape.

His thumb drags achingly slow across your pouted bottom lip, and you don’t even breathe. You just let him look at you— touch you however he wants. Your heart was hammering underneath your ribcage, threatening to spill out and make it obvious just how easy you were for him to take. If he wanted it.

He’d asked you what you needed, and this was all the answer you were able to give him.

He leans just a little closer, like he’s reeling in a scared sea creature— slow and gentle, never wanting it to pull away. He’s not an inch away from you when he freezes, and the moment you breathe out, he drops his hand.

“I’m— sorry.” He stumbles, stepping back like you’d poisoned him. As if he was breaking out of your trance, looking out towards the stars, afraid to be sucked in by you again. You feel horrible— a twisting feeling in your stomach at the heavy silence he puts you in.

“Din, I didn’t mean to—“

“We’re here.” He says, cutting you off. His words aren’t purring now, and they’re colder. It’s no comparison to the way he said your name. The way he called you that word, whatever it meant. For the second time.

He nods his head, telling you to get out of the pilots chair so he can land. He tilts it towards the chair next to him, but your face heats, and you can’t look up at him.

You were embarrassed. You’d stuck your hand out and clung to him like a desperate loon— and he’d pulled away. You were the one who wanted business. You were the one who wanted simplicity— and he was a Mandalorian. Marriage or not, you’d never get more than this. There was only a few feet between you, but it felt like miles. It was the closest you’d get to having him, and he was only doing what you wanted.

You get up and leave the cockpit, and stare at the roof of the Crest the whole way, so your tears don’t fall.

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfiction

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arroganceisherfavoritecolor · 3 months

Text

Enjoy the silence

Carl and reader have a moment while on the job...

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Reader uses fem pronouns, mentions of past bullying, reader is insecure✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It had been a long day for you and your friends in Alexandria. You had been on a run since early in the morning, having to leave at sunrise due to the long drive out to a city to look for some supplies. You had all gotten back by the time the sun was almost completely out of sight, thankfully. You were all hoping to get home, shower and knock out as soon as possible. But of course, you and your best friend, Carl, were the two people Deanna had ordered to keep watch.

Now usually, you despised having to be on watch duty. You found it boring and agonizingly long, and what made it worse was the fact that there was no chance of sleeping till the next day. But when you did it with Carl, it was a whole different story. Carl always found a way to make the night more interesting, whether it be his funny dad-jokes or the gossip he would hear around Alexandria. In other words, Carl made everything so, so much better. Although it had only been about a year since you first met him, he felt like home. He surrounded you with a warm feeling, you knew that no matter what, you could go to him and you'd feel okay. As you were deep into your thoughts, you heard footsteps coming from the ladder. You looked to the right and saw Carl making his way up. Your heart lit up and you felt that feeling of warmth wash over you. You smiled at Carl involuntarily, just looking at him made you feel happy. "Hey [Name]." His voice sounded like music to your ears, better than any tune or beat you've heard in your life. "Hi Carl." He stood next to you. You and Carl were almost touching shoulders, since the towers small box-like frame didn't provide the most space. You began to converse with him, talking about how the day went. Every few minutes, either you or Carl would see a walker and shoot it down and then go back to your conversation.

It had been 3 hours of you and him talking. The time flew by like seconds. This was another thing you liked about Carl, it was the way you could talk to him for hours and never get bored. At some point, you had brought up how at one of the recent parties, some older women in Alexandria began to make snarky comments towards you. They said things about how your hair looked ragged and your skin was dull. You'd think that when in the middle of a zombie outbreak, they'd have much better things to worry about. "The old-heads gave me shit about my skin and hair again" you said with a slight chuckle, you didn't want Carl to think you were a sensitive crybaby. "tch, dont even pay attention to them [Name], they're just jealous because theyre all old and wrinkly." You laughed at Carls remark. "Its okay, I dont really mind. I remember in school, before the outbreak, kids would pick on me for the same shit." Carls once relaxed aura turned curious. "What would they say exactly?" He asked politely, not wanting to intrude.

"Well, it was usually about my face or my weight. It used to make me really upset, to the point where i'd beg my mom to not take me to school. But after a little while, I learned not to care . Besides, growing up with mostly skinny and pretty friends kind of toughens you up." You tried smiling at Carl and looking him in the eyes to show you werent sad. "What do you mean?" He asked. "A lot of my friends would have all the boys chasing after them, even in Kindergarten. Think of it like how Enid gets treated by every other teen here. Since I wasnt ever really the cute type, i'd just watch from the side." You smiled again, but this time avoided eye contact. "Wait, so youre saying that NO boys had crushes on YOU?" He emphasized on the "you" part. "I mean... I guess?" You shrugged while grinning. Carls face was twisted in a confused expression. "Why are you looking at me like that Grimes?" You laughed out. "I just find it hard to believe that no one ever 'like-liked' you." You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowed in confusion as to what he was gonna say. "Youre just so... perfect. Youre smart, funny, beautiful... and you can beat some zombie ass." You giggled, feeling a blush creep up on your face. "You think i'm beautiful, Carl?" You asked him shyly, afraid of sounding conceited or selfish. "Of course I do [Name]." He said.

He turned his head all the way in your direction, wanting a perfect view of you. He looked so handsome in this moment. His sheriffs hat was on top of his soft brown hair. His flannel was unbuttoned half way, his white t-shirt peeking through. The sleeves of the flannel were rolled up to his forearm. His hands were behind his back, slender and tall frame leaning against the wooden post of the watch tower. His face was illuminated by the soft glowing oil lamp that sat on the chair in front of you two. His diamond-like eye and ghostly pale skin looked so pretty in the mixture of the warm light of the lamp and the cold light of the moon. You felt your heart rate spike, your pupils dilated. He looked so kissable, all you wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders and kiss his lips til you were both breathless. Carl could say the same for you, as your (eye color) eyes and (skin color) skin looked gorgeous in the light of the lamp and moon. Your slightly tattered tank top hugged your curves and your low-waisted ripped black jeans did as well, exposing a small portion of your mid drift. Carl noticed your cheeks were rosy and your eyes were glossy. Your lips were slightly parted due to the impact of Carl calling you beautiful.

He fixed his posture, standing all the way up and walked towards you. It only took about 1 or 2 steps for him to be face to face with you. He tilted his head downwards, making eye contact. (eye color) eyes gazing into his, you felt the warm feelings 10x. He touched your (hair color) hair, twirling it in his fingers. His hands went from your hair to your cheek, cupping it. He stroked his thumb against your soft skin, feeling the heat. 'So much for dull skin and hair' Carl thought to himself, cursing those old hags for making his love feel bad. "Carl.." You finally spoke out, your voice nothing but a low whisper. From this angle, Carls face was no longer in view of the lamp. The only lighting you got was from the moon, directly shining down on you and him. You took each other's features in, not once breaking contact from eachother. Carl closed his eye, slowly began to lean in, and kissed you. His pink lips were soft, the feeling of the kiss was like satin bed sheets and velvety pillows. He put his other hand on your other cheek, guiding you to be impossibly closer to him. You felt fireworks go off in your brain and stomach. The moment you had waited so long for had finally happened. You deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel Carls tongue slip inside of your mouth, the feeling so foreign and yet so good. You slowly broke away from the kiss face hotter than ever. You and Carl stood there, trying to process what had just happened. After a few 30 seconds, you both began laughing from the overwhelming feeling of happiness. For the rest of the night, you held each other, enjoying the silence.

"All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms" - Enjoy the Silence, Depeche Mode

A/N: I have wanted to write for Carl for the longesttt time !! I hope u guys liked it pls request more stufffff ;3

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 2 months

Text

TEMPORARY THINGS, chapter 3

Your first few weeks on set go by in a blur of learning the ropes. You follow Briony around a lot and listen to her use words you’ve never heard, like striking and dolly grip. You learn the difference between a first assistant camera and second, though it doesn’t seem to make much sense when Maggie points around nonchalantly and gets interrupted by a joke coming from the walkie-talkie on her hip.

It was going well! Aside from whatever whirring now thumps in your chest when Brett comes up beside you. You’re still in good impression mode for another, like, 3 weeks.

“Hi,” he says, a smile and nod when you look up to see him. “Hopefully you’re liking this lot so far?”

“So far,” you nod, appreciative of his inquiry. “But I also heard it takes a few weeks for you all to turn into divas.”

He pulls a hand to his chest in mock offense. The jacket he’s wearing belongs to his character, but the color suits him well. “I usually wait until at least halfway through!”

“Hellooo,” Maggie sidles up and smiles at both of you. Jason’s right behind her and when the four of you stand in a make-shift circle, you’re acutely aware of the way Jason angles himself toward you.

“We’ve got a lot to get through today--wanted to have you hear all of this as well,” Jason says this to you in particular before Maggie launches into some sort of schedule. She’s listing numbers and tasks and referencing scenes by shorthand lingo that only makes half sense.

It’s weird, you realize, that while you’re here on set and working alongside them, your job is different in almost every way: it’s focused entirely on him. Which is maybe a bad thing, seeing as your stomach still does this little flip when you notice the dimple on his cheek that you remember from Day 1.

Lucky for you, though, most of your time on set is spent in Jason’s office. Scheduling his travel and handling his emails and pulling the strings behind the scenes so his actual job here was easier. You’re in constant contact with his manager, his nanny, even sometimes seeing messages from his ex or his friends come through before you pass them right up the ladder.

Briony pops in and out, often passing messages from Jason to you and then in return. She was the coffee kid, still young enough to be excited by that type of task and good enough to never mess up an order.

Poppy hurries by and after you commit the entire shooting schedule of the day to memory, you return to Jason’s office to actually get your work done. Today, primarily, was to be spent going through emails and calendars, plugging in meetings and finalizing his schedule for the next two weeks before filming really picked up.

But there’s a knock on the door that grabs your attention before your inbox is even open. Brendan’s there, a binder in hand and a hesitant smile when you both realize you’ve never been alone in a room together.

“Hi,” he says a bit awkwardly. “Y’know where Jason is?”

“He was with Paul and Jenna near Rebecca’s office,” you hoped you were getting the names right, blending real people with characters in the same way that didn’t trip up the rest of them. “Anything I can help with?”

He holds your gaze for a second, almost skeptical, but then decides he’ll at least give it a shot.

“I’m looking for a list of scenes we’re shooting today. Not the actual schedule that got sent out but the list of ones Jason wants to do if we can move more quickly than everyone thinks we can.”

You stand from your spot on the couch and nod thoughtfully, walking towards his desk as your eyes start to scan the piles of paper. You’ve learned his system bit by bit: the pile on the left is Lasso-related but not urgent. The pile on the right is more personal, with a higher level of urgency. Work-related urgent things get put on top of his laptop, or, if he seems to think it’s really important, sometimes he takes a picture of it and emails it to himself.

As of now you find it mostly adorable that a guy in his mid-forties is sending himself emails with picture attachments so he doesn’t forget stuff. You’ll have to give him a crash course in the reminders app at some point.

You locate the piece of paper you saw him scribbling on yesterday, the red ink of the pen he clips into his pocket smudged in the corner. Today’s scenes are listed out in the same shorthand code you’ve heard Maggie use, Jason’s chicken scratch is in the margins in red ink.

You hold it up before you look back towards Brendan. His brows are arched when you take a step over and deliver, what you assume, is exactly what he was looking for.

He scans it. Nods.

“Three extra scenes sounds ambitious to me,” you try to crack a joke, feeling weird about the fact that you’ve yet to bond with Brendan.

“You can read his handwriting?” He looks up at you again, more quickly this time, surprise on his face when you nod.

“Yes--yeah,” you stammer like this is an embarrassing admission. “Should I not be able to?”

“Jessie always complained,” he shrugs, eyes back down to the piece of paper you’d handed over.

“It’s messy as shit but I figured if I can’t read his handwriting then we’re all fucked.”

The corner of Brendan’s mouth flicks into a smile, a tiny laugh before he salutes you in farewell and his footsteps fade down the hallway.

April 2022

The end of March sputtered more rain onto the London streets than you’d ever seen in Los Angeles. Maggie promised it wouldn’t be like this the whole time, but now, on the third rainy Friday in a row, you were beginning to think your friend was a liar.

“It’s bad luck,” Jason comments as he looks out the window into his backyard, “not bad weather.”

Thunder booms overhead and the British Airways website logo keeps flickering on the page, please be patient while we locate your booking!

“You’re beginning to sound like a London apologist,” you look up at him from your laptop screen, eyebrows arched to challenge his statement. The backyard gets lit up again, the line of trees overhead is visible in the flash of lightning that cracks open the sky.

He smirks at your retort, “forgive me for not wanting you to hate the place you agreed to move.”

His hands are in his pockets but he moves to sit on the couch across from you. You showed up 20-minutes ago, laptop in tow after he heard you mention something on set about your travel plans to Amsterdam.

“London could have been on fire and I would still have come,” you think aloud as the page blinks back to life. “Okay, here,” you sit up. “Booking 1430-3925-098, business class to Schiphol.”

“Cancel it.”

“You’re sure?” You look up at him now, finger hovering over the trackpad.

“Positive,” he stands and nods. “Red or white?”

“Hmm?”

You click the button, Yes, I’m Sure!, but then notice he’s waiting for you to reply.

“Wine,” he laughs. “Red or white?”

You pause, is this a test? Is having a glass of wine with him on a Friday night in his living room crossing a line? No, you decide when he holds your gaze for a moment. If it wasn’t crossing a line with Kyle or Reese or any other boss you’ve had, it’s not crossing a line with him.

And besides, he’s not your boss, technically.

“Red.”

He smiles at your answer and makes his way towards the kitchen. “So why would a fiery London not be a deterrent?”

You set your laptop on the coffee table, a few steps over to stand in the doorway as he pursues his wine rack.

“Sorry?” You’re confused now, still watching when he scans the label of a bottle before he sets it on the Island.

It was a long week. You’d been on set every morning at 6:30am. Most days you left work around 4 or 5, and Jason was good about making sure you took lunch breaks and had enough coffee and knew all the good places to hide for five minutes of quiet when the set got too crowded.

“You said London could have been on fire and you would have moved here still,” he reminds you, his eyes watching for your reaction as you lean against the door frame.

You nod slowly and let your eyes flutter shut in embarrassment. What’s the most professional way to say: I got dumped and fired in the span of two weeks and my life felt like a living hell, so surely London ablaze would be manageable?

You decide there isn’t one, so you bend the truth as he searches for a wine opener. “I was in desperate need of a change of scenery.”

“Christmas in LA does suck,” he nods.

“Luckily I didn’t have to withstand that torture,” you walk over to the drawer on his right, the one that Jessie’s binder said had miscellaneous kitchen tools and utensils. You open it and pull out an opener and hand it over. “I was in New York for the holidays, left LA right after Thanksgiving.”

He opens the bottle and nods sympathetically. “Something about December in LA always feels…depressing.”

“Yeah,” you let out a breath at that word, one that circled and swirled in your brain for days and weeks before you figured out what the fuck you were going to do. Your parents were worried and your sister was three-seconds and a text message away from booking a flight out there to beat the shit of your ex, as she so kindly offered.

He pours the first glass, stealing a peek in your direction when he thinks you aren’t looking. You are.

“So--yeah, Los Angeles, change of scenery, back to New York. Now London.” He pours his own and then brings them both over, clinks his wine glass against yours before you both take a quiet sip in the kitchen. “What on earth made you take this job?”

You smirk, sure you can’t say what pops into your mind: a new city, a penchant for spontaneity after a crisis, the chance to work for your friend’s hot boss…

“Oh god,” he laughs, taking in your expression when your cheeks flush. “Did someone make you come here? Have you been kidnapped? Forced against your will?”

“No,” you roll your eyes at his playfulness and laugh. “I just--I really needed a job and a fresh start, I guess.”

He nods in understanding, takes another sip in the quiet. “Yeah, I get that.”

You’re not sure why it suddenly comes out, honest, blunt, a thud on the fancy tile of his kitchen.

“My boyfriend and I broke up--we lived together--then my job kind of exploded, well, Kyle’s life did too, so, Maggie took pity, I guess, when she realized my life was a shit show.”

He’s a little caught off guard by your confession, his eyebrows are slightly lifted and you can’t read: is it curiosity or concern? Like, did I hire a psychopath concern.

But that must not be it, because when you take a loud slurp of wine to drown out the awkward silence, he swallows and nods.

“Just because it feels like a shit show doesn’t mean it is,” he offers, a small smile before he continues. “My fiancé of a decade left me for someone 15 years younger a few years ago and then decided to give a fuck ton of interviews about it,” he smirks. “So--I get the whole shit show feeling.”

Your lips pull into a smile at his show of humanity, but then he gestures for you to follow him back to the living room. You’d known about his failed relationship, saw headlines and heard murmurs but didn’t pay much mind. You didn’t think in a few years time you’d be drinking wine on his couch on a rainy Friday.

“And now you’re single?” He asks over his shoulder, more of a follow up on your recent disclosure than the flirtation you wish it was. He sits down and you watch the way his knees knock together in khakis.

“First time in 6 years,” you say over the rim of your glass, returning to your spot on the sofa.

He’s watching you, like you’re throwing him off somehow or he’s intrigued. You realize you like it.

And then you remember why you’re here, tonight, in the first place: Amsterdam. The location shoot for the temp gig. Your temp gig job. Your job, him sitting across the room from you as not the man who writes your checks but still the one who generates them. Your laptop on the coffee table pulls you back to reality. You should probably not flirt with him.

“It’s canceled,” you nod towards the computer and then lift your Apple Watch as proof. “Confirmation email came through a few minutes ago.”

He shakes his head but smiles. “I can’t believe you thought I’d make you fly business class if I’m on a jet!”

You remember Maggie’s words from January, facetime a thousand miles away. Something along the lines of he’s amazing, Y/N, he’s so chill!

“You’d be really disappointed to hear what it’s like to work for Tom Cruise, then.”

He laughs, shifts on the couch and takes another sip. “I think it’s really shitty when people treat their EAs like regular assistants,” he shrugs. “Here’s this person who manages your whole life…arguably that means you’re more competent than I am,” he thinks aloud, a playful glance in your direction. A compliment? Maybe. Flirting? You hope.

Is that shitty? Is that weird and inappropriate or—worst of all—are you fully delusional?

“I’m going to pocket that for future reference,” you admit with a smirk.

He sips his wine and smiles, eyes you seriously from behind the glasses he puts on at the end of the day. “Just…know from here on out that you can book yourself as nice of a hotel room as you want, you know, within reason.”

You let your eyes bug out of your head. “Reason, like, the Presidential Suite at a Ritz Carlton, or?”

“Jesus,” a short laugh escapes, a comedic hint of suspicion is his eyes after he checks a text on his phone. “Maggie wasn’t kidding when she said you’ve been primarily A-list.”

“I would never,” you call back, a quick confession to make sure he knows you’re not that type of…employee? Temp? Whatever.

“Great, but still--we’re there for work, but you deserve to enjoy Amsterdam,” he gestures toward your laptop, like the British Airways website itself was a symbol of the upcoming business trip.

Maggie’s been excited for weeks. She babbled about it in the car on the way from Heathrow and Poppy’s been shouting out nightclubs and restaurants and places she wants to go most mornings in the makeup trailer.

You’ve never been to Amsterdam, but you’re excited nonetheless for a chance to see a new city in a new country. The last time you and Maggie were in Europe together was on your study abroad trip when you were both 21. Now it’s ten years later.

She bounces in one April morning to Poppy’s trailer while you’re sipping a hot coffee. One from the catering table because the one you sipped on your way here wasn’t enough.

“You’re exactly who I wanted to see,” her face lights up when she spots you in a chair beside Juno.

“Good morning,” you coo, grateful that Poppy’s trailer has become a bit of reprieve for you. You were right, a few weeks ago when you went out for your first Friday in London: Maggie and Poppy are tight, Juno and Briony and Hannah and the rest of the make up crew seem to be their own little friend group within the larger cast and crew. Ladies who stuck together.

Luckily, you were beginning to feel like a part of it.

“I’m thinking pubs and clubs,” she dumps a tote bag on the counter, contents spill out but Poppy doesn’t seem to mind.

“What?”

“We need to start planning for Amsterdam, babe.”

“It’s a work trip, babe,” you remind her with narrowed eyes, a quick glance around the room to see if anyone else was aware of Maggie’s scheming.

“Work trip, hah!” Juno pipes up from her chair. She’s got curlers in, eyes still sleepy since the sun’s just made it above the horizon. “Someone tell Y/N about Lasso work trips.”

“Work trips,” Poppy turns to see you--she’s getting a palette ready for Juno, all of her brushes and tubes of lip gloss are organized sociopathically by color, size, and brand. “Are only half work.”

A woman after your own heart, though the results of your organizing episodes usually only last a few weeks.

“Half work? How does that…work?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to get mascara swiped on your lashes before your eyes are fully open.

“We shoot long days and we’re busy,” Maggie nods honestly, she’s strapping her walkie-talkie onto her waist, snaking the wire of her headset up and behind her ear. “But when work is over, it’s playtime.”

You watch your oldest friend closely. “Sounds oddly sexual,” you comment around another slurp of coffee.

“It can be sexual if you want it to be,” Maggie wiggles her eyebrows now. “If you’re feeling up for getting down and dirty!”

Oh boy. You blink at her a few times, memories of your last trip to Europe come flooding back. Maggie writing your number on the bathroom stall of a club in Rome, encouragement at every hour of the day to get loose and get laid. Unfortunately for you, this trip might be oddly reminiscent.

“Yeah?” This pique’s Juno’s interest. “Someone in need of a little hanky-panky?”

They all giggle, you choke down more coffee but wipe your mouth when there’s a knock on the door. It opens, the whole trailer goes quiet when Jason’s on the other side.

“Morning,” he nods, a few steps in before he slinks down to the chair next to Poppy with an amused smile. “You know the gossip’s good when it goes completely silent.”

“Not gossip,” Maggie locks eyes with you in the mirror and smirks. “Just some chatter about Y/N’s lack of a love life,” she smiles, an apologetic but excited one.

“I work more than I sleep,” you defend loud enough for the whole trailer to hear—-all six of you in there.

True. Until, about, six months ago.

“Lack?” Jason’s eyebrows are arched in the mirror.

You hope Maggie doesn’t see the way your cheeks flush, a moment where his eyes find yours in the reflection above Poppy’s drawers and drawers of makeup. You wish you could vanish into thin air.

How—in only a few weeks—does it feel like you and Jason are in on your own little secret?

“This is only my second cup of coffee so why don’t we talk about Maggie’s childhood obsession with webkinz?” You propose, a loud slurp and a ghoulish look in her direction to show her you mean business.

You had just as many years of ammunition as she did. If embarrassing each other was the goal, you could at least play the game.

“Weren’t you a bit old for that, babe?” Poppy asks with a teasing smile, fingers focused on the curlers in Juno’s hair.

“I didn’t give a shit that I was 16 and still into it,” Maggie defends, a dismissive eye roll when she picks up her phone from the counter. “The heart wants what it wants.”

A dodged bullet, for sure. You’re able to excuse yourself shortly thereafter to make sure Jason’s got what he needs for the day. Briony did the check of his office, grabbed breakfast and delivered a bagel to the makeup trailer. Which means you’re free to move about in search of the people you need today.

Joan from the location department, Tom from Post-Production—Maggie said he’d be easy to find because he always wears hats but is impeccably bald.

You get the write-up you need from Joan and that’s when Briony falls into step beside you. She shows you the way down the maze of halls and through the lot to an office where Tom sits at a desk. Once you’ve got what you need from him (a firm answer to a question of Jason’s he’s been dodging all week), Briony sits with you on the sidelines of a scene in the locker room.

Jason, Phil, Brendan, and Brett are shooting, the set’s loud before someone calls for quiet.

Briony silently breaks her granola bar in half and offers you some, Greg--who works in sound--offers you both a warning glare: I better not hear rubbish.

So you munch quietly side by side, feeling somewhat mesmerized by the way that when the camera’s rolling, Jason and his scene partners feel like the only people in the room. The scripted jokes they’re cracking are so good, it makes you regret never finishing season 1.

You don’t remember finding him nearly as attractive back then as you do now, sitting behind the cameras and the boom, a walkie-talkie on your own hip and a pit in your stomach when you realize this isn’t even a thought you should be having.

But you can’t help that warmth pools in your belly when he rolls up his sleeves or laughs from across the room. Okay, so, maybe this isn’t just jet lag.

CUT!--the room buzzes back into motion, Maggie’s zipping around the set and shouts to Greg, can we start again at line 47? Poppy goes to powder Brendan’s forehead, Briony’s on her feet and then the whole thing starts again.

That happens another three times before there’s actually a break. Props weren’t delivered on time and so a different scene is getting staged but it doesn’t mean much to you. You’ve checked your own inbox eight times today and Jason’s twelve.

But today was quiet. Showing up and making a stellar impression in the first few weeks was definitely a good thing, but had you been…too productive? Had you accidentally fucked yourself over because now you’re sitting here looking like a moron because you didn’t have something to do?

You booked a zoo tour for him and his kids next month, finalized the rest of his schedule for this week, arranged his travel to see friends in Spain later this summer. You’d organized his home office last week, updated his business accounts spreadsheet and even managed to book him an appointment with an eye doctor after he told you it’d been three years (ridiculous).

Jason walks up and says something to Greg, who’s pretending to give Briony shit about the granola bar. Briony’s smiling up at him like he’s just told her Christmas is coming early.

“Hey,” you greet Jason with a smile, hand him his cell phone that’s been tucked into the bum bag around your shoulders.

“I saw the tickets to the zoo at Battersea Park--thanks for putting that together.”

You nod, glad you were able to come up with something he could do with his kids next weekend when they’d be in town. An advertisement on the tube is what led you to buying three tickets on a whim, just in case.

You smile and look to your left, for some reason nervous that someone will see how awkward you’re being and misread it. It doesn’t matter, though, because he reaches forward and his hand’s on your elbow in a way that makes your face feel warm.

“I mean it,” he says, a nod to himself and to you, one that lets you know he’s touched by the gesture.

“Yes, yeah, sure,” you nod like an idiot, immediately embarrassed by the way his touch leaves your mouth unable to form consonants or vowels.

“Jason, go talk to Mark about camera angles,” Maggie appears and slaps him on the shoulder, a smile on her face when she playfully barks the order.

Phil’s hand is outstretched suddenly, a reminder that time on set moved faster than anywhere else. “Y/N, could you take a picture of me in this for my mum?”

You accept the phone and snap a photo, Maggie’s answering a text and then gets tugged away by a PA.

You turn to face Jason when Phil walks away, you’re ready for a request or a task or anything. But he just holds your gaze for a second, a pleased smirk spreads across his face.

“Anything I can get you?”

He shrugs, “I’m good.”

It dawns on you, right then, that he walked over here to talk to you. Well, maybe not you. Maybe you were just in his way. Maybe he was looking for someone else but he saw you and it reminded him to say thanks.

But either way, right now it’s just you and Jason standing here and it feels good to think that maybe he just likes being around you. Maybe the smirk on his face is because he sees the way your brain is short-circuiting. Luckily, he pulls you out of your crisis.

“Can you come to my trailer later, around 3? Before I have to help them shoot at Keeley’s office later? I can text you.”

You’re nodding and agreeing to it as you visualize your own calendar in your head. You’re supposed to get off at 4pm today, an evening to yourself and the idea of a glass of wine on the couch sounds especially nice now that you’ve realized your social skills are such shit.

“Perfect, great,” he says. “Apparently I have to go talk to Mark.”

You nod, he nods, and then he turns to leave you by the huddle of sound guys handling wires and knobs. You meet him in his trailer and handle the emails and errands he needs, grab a tea on the way home and you’re in the door at 4:49pm--and that’s with afternoon traffic.

London’s been sunny this week, you had wine with Maggie and Brett and Phil one night and you didn’t feel new. You felt normal.

Winter was fading into spring over the last ten days, it was starting to feel like you were your own little piece in the big puzzle you got thrown into. Brendan knew he could always count on you to laugh at his jokes--especially and specifically when they were aimed at Jason. Brett knows your childhood nickname and threatens to tell Phil every time you get dangerously close to calling him out for flirting with Maggie.

You don’t always feel like a transplant anymore, you feel like someone who’s starting to have a place. A tiny one, maybe off in the corner, but still, a place.

And when you left Jason’s trailer that afternoon, you thought it’d be the last time you saw him.

So, naturally, your eyes go wide when you find him beneath the light of your front door this evening. You’re in a sweatshirt and bike shorts, completely unprepared for company.

“Hi!” he says quickly, almost like he’s startled by the opening of the door, like he didn’t know if you’d be home or expected someone else on the other side of the knob. There’s a smile on his face that mirrors yours almost immediately. “Hey, sorry—to just show up here, like this.”

“How do you know where I live?” You narrow your eyes, a teasing but confident tone. All that does is give him a cheerful smugness that you regret immediately, one that makes his eyes scan your face before he shrugs.

“I know I’m not your boss, but I’m, like, not not your boss at the same time.”

You hold back a laugh and watch him, “what a blurred and confusing boundary…”

He smiles, “Which, all I mean by that is that Maggie sent the listing to me when she found it, I’ve actually known where you live since before you lived here,” he admits casually.

“Got it,” you step aside and he comes in, shuts the door behind himself before he meets your eyes again.

“How are you?” You ask, intrigued by his surprise visit but also not wanting to scare him off. You like the way he’s looking at you, your heart does a flip at the thought that he wants to be around you. Just like earlier today. Fuck.

“I’m good,” he says, you walk towards the kitchen and wave a bottle of wine in the air and he nods. “I got stuck late at work, I was walking and it started to rain.”

“You live like, two minutes from here…” you’re smiling despite the challenging statement, you grab a glass from an overhead cabinet.

He shrugs when he slinks into a barstool at your counter, apparently unfazed by your accusation when he comes off it easily: “yeah, I just wanted to say hi.”

You reach for a glass in the cupboard overhead and tease him over your shoulder. “Curious to see how Maggie allocated the living stipend?”

He sits up straighter now and plays into the bit, pushing his lips out in thought when he looks around your open concept kitchen and living room. “That and…”

He looks around the room again, his words hang in the air as he buys time. But his hair’s a mess and his watch isn’t on--so you know something’s up.

It clicks. He’s got something on his mind or something and he’s…trying to talk about it? To you?

Men! Sheesh. You try to relax your forehead as you pour him a glass so your confusion and shock isn’t misread as displeasure. Realistically, you’re touched he feels comfortable enough and the thumping in your chest is a dead giveaway if he can hear it when you deliver the wine.

“Shit day?” You ask, watching as his fingers wrap around the step. He takes a sip and shrugs.

“Yeah, shit day…shit month, shit year.”

You giggle into your own glass, take your first sip before nodding. “I know the feeling.”

“No, I shouldn’t--” he pauses and stumbles for a second, “I don’t mean to complain or sound like a dick.”

You shrug and offer a smirk. “You’re not a dick if you have a human emotion.”

He nods, watches the wine in his glass as a smirk crawls onto his face. He looks up at you. “My ex could argue that statement for two hours.”

“Could she?” You smile, nodding when you tell him: “I’m a pretty patient person.”

“Are you?”

“I am,” you laugh, “I like to think so.”

He lets out a tiny laugh at your comment, quiet for a second before he lets out an exhale. “I’m just stressed, really. Being showrunner this season is harder than I thought and it’s not even hard, it’s just more than I’m used to.”

You nod immediately. That makes sense and you see the fatigue on his face. You’d heard Maggie talk about it before: long hours, late nights, location shoots, freezing days, rewrites and props changes. TV wasn’t easy and you were already aware of that, only a few weeks in.

“I get that—but I think it’s normal to notice the learning curve when you’re doing something new.”

He nods, accepts it and holds his breath for a second. “Yeah, that’s…a good way to say it.”

He smiles at you softly, eyes coming up to meet yours quickly before he shrugs. “I know I’ll survive, it’s just—been a rough go of it, lately.”

“So what’s your release?” You ask.

His brows furrow together and the crease in his forehead lights something up inside you.

He says it like this hasn’t occurred to him at all. “My release?”

“How are you dealing with your stress?”

The confusion on his face turns into amusement when the corner of his mouth twitches toward your ceiling.

“So, nothing?”

He laughs. “I hadn’t thought about—doing anything, really.”

“Men,” you roll your eyes, moving towards the couch with your wine in hand. “The wine’s a nice place to start, but certainly not enough.”

He makes a face for a second, like he’s judging himself or imagining the terrible things you must think about him now that you’ve heard his feelings, but he stands to follow and listens intently when you almost open up.

“When my boyfriend dumped me and Kyle let me go, I stayed in bed for a good…two weeks,” you admit, a grimace on your face because you know it makes you sound like a loser. “But then my sister suggested I go to a rage room and it was amazing.”

“A rage room?” He laughs. “One of those places where you just break shit?”

“Smashing a TV to pieces is surprisingly therapeutic,” you tell him seriously.

He thinks on it for a second, nodding like he’s giving it real thought when he plucks at his lower lip. You can see the smirk he’s fighting, a sip of wine when your eyes dare him to say whatever he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to tell me--”

“But,” you say at the same time as he says it. A flash of embarrassment on his face when you raise your brows, reading him like a book, just spit it out.

“Why’d you get fired?”

Right. You knew it would come up at some point and even if Jason wasn’t really your boss, he definitely had the right to be curious.

“I only ask because I read her reference letter--she loves you.”

“She does love me,” you nod. “But she was having family issues and I wanted a raise and then I found out that her daughter was sleeping with my boyfriend.”

His lips form an ‘o’ involuntarily, the response you got from most people when they hear how the dominoes all fell at the same time.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “Fired might be a strong word, but, certainly how it felt.”

“Well, her loss,” he nods confidently. “I’ve seen the way you organized my desk drawers and it’s either witchcraft or psychoticism and I’m okay with either if it’s always this easy to find shit.”

“I’ll keep it up then,” you smile and take another sip.

“Sorry to just…show up, by the way,” he looks down at his own glass in hand, “and drink your wine.”

You had been looking forward to a shower and a night of watching trashy reality TV (though now you’d sworn off all of the Real Housewives). Other than that, your night was likely to consist of facetiming your mom and plucking your eyebrows.

Jason sitting at your counter with a smirk on his face didn’t bother you at all, but you certainly couldn’t tell him you were flattered that he came here.

You nodded to let him know it was no nuisance. “I’m always up for a glass of wine and talking you off the ledge.”

“That shouldn’t be part of your job description, though.”

“Do you know how many times I listened to Kyle complain about her friends or had to send gift baskets to them after fights?”

“I’m guessing a lot?”

“You venting about work stress is a walk in the park,” you reassure.

“Well, I’m glad,” he says solemnly, a moment when he holds your eyes and you feel your cheeks get warm.

You clear your throat, don’t be stupid, and force out a joke to act like whatever moment this was wasn’t problematic or weird or worse, enticing.

“So unless you have a daughter that will sleep with my boyfriend, we’re probably good.”

“My daughter’s seven,” a beat when he shrugs a single shoulder. “And you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You take a loud slurp from your wine--partly for comedic effect and party out of your own awkwardness--and smirk over the rim to match his. “Right.”

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

AN: WOW! HI! It's been a hot minute. I'm so glad to be posting this chappie and so appreciative of everyone's patience as my life evolves and writing has taken up a smaller portion of my time. I would love love love to hear what you think of this chapter and the story so far, I've been writing a lot the last few days as feb turns into march and I'm excited to share more!!!!

taglist: @babysugar02 @daydreamgoddess14 @endlessblasphemy @hart-kinsella @shanefilan @bookoffracturedghosts @cavillsim @the-fanfic-fangirl @tegan8314

#tt #temporary things #idkthisisjustforfanfic #jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis imagine #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis snl

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cupoftaae · 11 months

Note

HII i'd like to request prompt 11 "give me time, give us time" for kookiee? and if its ok id like to give u a small plot just in case you dont know how to work with this if thats okay 🥺

so the tiny tannie lil ol plot for this wuld be: jk being a bit of a workaholic (very much so.) and y/n is quite tired of it.. note that this is non!idol and married! :D they had a talk and a cool plot twist wuld be how y/n was actualy planning to surprise him abt being pregnant!!!GASPAND THEN KOOKIE NEVER NOTICED THE SYMPTOMS CUZ HES BEEN WORKING TOO MUCH!!! and like yeah she getzz rlly emotionsl

AND IF ITS OK CAN U GIVE LIKE AN AFTERMATH OF THIS? LIKE 1 OR 2 YEARS AWAY FROM THE ARGUMET? hope this isnt too much 😭

Hello!! oh my goodness this is so amazing, no one has given me a plot to write by, this is really cool and I hope that I do a good enough job portraying this for you! Thank you so much for sending this in <3

La La Land (JK drabble request)

warnings- mentions of drinking, angst, mentions of pregnancy, swearing, couple fighting, fluff, kissing (nothing major) I think thats all?

enjoy <3

"I cant tell, is this a positive or negative?"

Your voice was shaky and frail, holding up the test to your phone camera, trying to show your friend.

"blurry, cant see, read the box y/n. instructions are there" Your friend sighed, in her defense, it was late, and you called her out of slumber- but only because you were totally hyped at the sudden realization that you were finally possibly pregnant.

You and Jungkook had not necessarily been trying, nor necessarily avoiding it.

You both wanted kids, but never really specified when. Considering the fact you have now been married for 2 years, and your relatives are up your ass about when it is that you will have a baby, even though its not their business at all.

You wanted this for you, and today might be the day you get what you wished for.

"You just took it, let it sit for a moment"

you nodded at your friends words as you placed the test onto the bathroom sink, moving your hands to rest on your hips as your teeth tugged at your bottom lip in thought.

"whats on your mind, hun?" she asked

"a lot..." you giggled, drawing your eyes back to her. "If I am, I just hope Kook is happy, thats all I want"

"mm his schedule is so busy"

"I know, work always comes first with him, thats why im nervous. Its not like he told me to take birth control or anything, and we have condoms he just refuses to use one" you snicker

She laughs, "well then yeah what did he expect?"

"but hes a head manager at the company he works at, hes spent so much time climbing the ladder to get there, what if this throws him in a loop?"

"y/n....girl...listen to me, he is partially responsible for this, so he needs to be accepting or I will personally come down there and make him accepting"

You laughed at your friend, thankful you had some humor relief out of all the tension.

"and listen, you are in your 30's, its not like you are 20 years old and unmarried, you know?"

"yeah...youre right...im gonna look now, I think its ready"

"okay"

You gently flipped over the test and held it close to your eyes, a faint blue plus sign appeared, making your heart thump so loud it was audible in your ears.

"holy shit, its positive!"

"its positive?" your friends voice shot up 3 octaves

"YES!!!" you jumped around, wishing jungkook was home right now to show him, instead bathing in the moment with your best friend.

"congratulations, y/n, oh my god im so happy for you!!!"

"thank you!" you wiped a few tears, gripping the test almost as if it wouldnt be real if you let it go. "oh jesus this is so....wow!"

"remember what I said, everything will be okay"

You nodded, taking a deep breath

"everything will be okay, yeah....your right."

Everything, in fact, was not alright.

It's been 2 weeks since that night you found out you were pregnant, and everytime you think you are ready to tell Jungkook, something happens.

"oh gotta go babe, they are calling me into work"

"too tired to talk tonight honey, i have to get up at 5am"

"not right now baby, maybe tomorrow?"

It never ended, he was in and out the front door constantly.

It was upsetting that the only time youve had to talk with him recently was when you both took a shower a few days ago.

"you look so tired" you frowned, pushing his hair back

"I know...I am"

"you need to sleep more" you kissed his chest, resting against it under the warm water.

He let out a soft laugh, "yeah...when is there time for rest?"

"its okay to take time off, you know? youre a manager, you have more control"

"I just need to prove to everyone that I am capable of handling the position" he insisted

"Obviously you are, they wouldnt-"

"y/n, just dont worry about it....okay?" he squeezed you softly, trying to change the subject and shutting you down, because you wouldnt get it

You wanted your husband, you wanted him more than anything, and this feeling only turned to anger as you sat with him at the dinner table one night.

You were now almost 2 months pregnant and still have not told him.

You planned a nice meal to eat, his favorite.

You cooked all the vegetables and spent hours slaving in the hot kitchen making sure everything was up to perfection for him, just for him to come home at 2am with no text in regard to him being late.

"its late, honey, im sorry, we can eat tomorrow"

You stood to your feet before he could leave the room, all of your dishes sitting on the stove, some now cold. "no, we are gonna eat now."

You know he smelled the food, and never did he once acknowledge the fact you made his favorite dish, or thank you for it.

His eyes widened, not used to hearing the sudden tone in your voice.

"please....please just sit" your voice cracked slightly as you watched him slowly walk back to the seat, sinking into it.

"are you mad at me?" he whispered, watching your back as you heated up the food into a plate for him.

"mad..?" you chuckle to yourself, trying to gather your thoughts.

"yeah, mad. are you?"

You took the food out of the microwave and handed it to him, sitting on the other end of the table and looking at him desperatley.

"jungkook...have you noticed anything...different?"

He smiled gently, confusion in his eyes, "what do you mean?"

Your expression softened from hopeful to dissapointment.

"you dont see...you dont feel like anything is different?"

"no?" he half smiled, looking around awkwardly.

You looked down at your plate, teary eyes overcoming you as you tried hard to prevent your breakdown- but its been a long time coming.

"wha-"

"jungkook!" you cry out desperately, leaving him shocked and confused at the odd behavior.

"baby why are you crying? whats going on? what is this?" he panicked

"You!! im crying because of you!!" you stood, covering your face as you felt the embarrassment fall over you.

"what did I do?" he got up and tried to come over to hold you, but you pushed him away.

He let you talk, not knowing how to respond to anything.

"you are never home, Jungkook. I fucking miss my husband, okay? I spent 4 hours in this kitchen, sick as hell, making your favorite dish and I dont get any type of thank you, instead you come home 3 hours late and decide its time to sleep, you reek of alcohol as well" you wipe you tears hastily.

He stood, looking at you as his eyes teared up

"I know work is important, I know it is, But I matter too Jungkook!! We are married, I am your WIFE! im not just the maid and chef here, you know?

"baby I never said any of that-"

"you treat me like one!!" you cry, pacing the room, "see, you still dont even notice anything do you?"

He looked helplessly, "Im sorry, honey, I really am, but I need work-"

"not this much!!" you looked at him sharply, "Ive been home alone these past few weeks, dealing with a certain situation ive been terrified to tell you about all by myself!"

"im here now, tell me! tell me! what is going on and how can I fix this?"

"I just want you, jungkook....One fucking day, one fucking dinner" you gesture to the table "When was the last time we even woke up together and cuddled, or had a fucking cup of coffee and talked? Months...MONTHS!"

"my angel im sorry ive been neglecting you, why didnt you say something to me sooner?"

"I was trying to understand, I was trying sooo hard to put myself in your shoes but damnit, jungkook, I cant hide it anymore" you sobbed, knowing how crazy you looked to him right now. "Its...its not fair!!"

He gently grabbed your arm, leading you towards him, his eyes searching deep into your own.

You sighed, trying to adjust your breathing, "g-give me time, give us time." you wrapped your arms around yourself and looked at him.

"us?"

You swallowed harshly, trying to steady your voice, "im pregnant, Jungkook. I found out weeks ago and since then youve left me home alone with not an ounce of time for me to tell you, which is now resulting in this"

He froze, his eyes softening at you as he tears up, "pregnant? baby..."

"yes!" you step back, "and...and you didnt even notice! I tried leaving clues, I left the test in your bedside nightstand and you never fucking saw it?"

"n-no baby...youre pregnant, oh my god, honey" he brought you back to him, a soft yet sad smile on his face

"Its been all me, im the only one who has to deal with it and its not fair. If you dont have time for me, how the hell are you gonna manage to parent our child?" you glared "I refuse to parent alone, this is a team effort, jungkook. Yes money is important, but I need you, I need you to stop being a manager first and my husband second"

He took a shaky breath, part of him scared to say the wrong thing, "I- I understand honey" he nodded, holding your hands as he cried "fuck- im so sorry" you let him pull you into a tight hug "Im so sorry holy shit...im such a fucking dumbass, how could I not know?" he ran his hand up and down your back, face hidden into your shoulder as you both cried.

"you need to understand, I am serious, things have to change!"

"they will! they will! I'll change right now I promise Im gonna be here for you, for both of you" his hands held your stomach, desperation in his voice "dont leave...." he whispered

"im not going to, jungkook. But you need to stop working so much, I cant do this by myself"

"you dont have to, im here for you, whatever you need, fuck I'll take the rest of the week off for you, just let me hold you" he squeezed you tighter

"I miss you so much" your voice was quiet

"I love you, im so sorry I never noticed, Im so dumb baby....I love you,I love you" he cupped your face and pressed a delicate kiss to your lips, forehead against yours, "thank you for all you do, im an ass for not recognizing any of it"

"I love you too....just please...do it for us...?"

He nods "anything....for you, i'll do fucking anything baby." he kisses you once more as you both gently sway in the kitchen. The tension of the argument still lingering in the air, thick and prominent.

This wasnt a fixed issue, more so a stepping stone to him proving his words.

If he wanted to be a dad, he needed to show you he was ready for it.

"he is crying again" you sigh, rubbing your eyes and sitting up to look at the baby monitor.

"I'll get him" jungkook immediately got up and walked down the hall, following the sad cries that led him to your baby's room.

"little man...its 4am...why the tears?"he frowned at his 3 month old who's arms flared around.

the first 2 months of Kaiylin being born, you kept him in your main bedroom at night but you wanted to test out how he would sleep on his own, and so far its not been good.

"you want mama, huh?" he picked him up, holding him close and gently bouncing his knees. He didnt smell, so it wasnt his diaper, and he had just been fed not too long ago, so it was easy for jungkook to know he just missed his mommy and daddy.

He slowly walked into the bedroom, you were about to fall asleep. "oh kai" you frown as your husband places him into the bed between you both, his body facing the smaller ones so he doesnt fall out or move around.

"aw baby" you rub his head softly, "its okay now, shh, shh"

Jungkook gives you an empathetic look, "I know you havent slept im sorry"

You shrug, "i'll nap tomorrow"

"I'll take him into my office, he can sit in his rocker while you nap"

You smile softly kissing your husband, "thanks, baby"

You had to admit, Jungkook has stepped up more than you assumed he would. Hes began to work from home, giving time for not only your little family, but especially you and him.

He has been such a help with everything, from watching Kai during the night, to cooking and cleaning for you, its been 100% teamwork since you gave birth and you couldnt thank him enough for it all,

Things were finally starting to even out and you could not have been happier, the man you married in the first place was returned back to you, in the form of a loving father.

"hes sleeping again, look" jungkook whispered

Your eyes darted to the newborn in between you and your husband, you slightly giggled, "poor thing"

"co-sleeping just works I guess" he smiled, leaning over to kiss you gently, "go back to sleep honey, ill watch him for a bit, its okay."

"I love you, thank you..." you looked at him

"I love you too sweetheart"

a/n- ahh! I really hope this is what you wanted, it was fun to write and follow the prompt. Thanks again for sending this in! -Nini

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook drabble #bts fluff

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kikiwritesfanfic · 8 months

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The Lovebug Virus - Chapter 2: Sun

Yandere! Sun and Moon x Reader

Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

*****

"And down that way past the daycare is Monty Golf," Max says. You try your best to remember everything he's telling you, but you're having a hard time now that you're close enough to the daycare to hear the children screaming and playing down below.

It's been about a week since the disaster at the party and Kat telling you she would call her older brother. Turns out, he's actually the head engineer here at the Pizzaplex, which you hadn't known. That's why Kat worked at the plex, because she wanted to make her way up the engineering ladder like her brother Max had done once he had finished with his degree. She only works as a night guard because it was what was open at the time. Kind of like what you were doing now. Except you hadn't gotten as lucky with the job opening you had to take.

"Well, guess that leaves the most important part now, doesn't it?" Max says, clapping his hands together in front of him. He was older than Kat, that much was evident. But he still looked young. You guess he can't be much older than 30, given the lack of worry lines or grey hairs. His face is clean shaven, but he rubs his chin constantly as if stroking a beard. If there is one thing you've been able to take from your interactions with him so far, it's that you definitely know where Kat gets most of her personality from.

"Yeah, I guess. Lead the way," you say, allowing him to guide you towards the employee entrance of the daycare.

Everything is so bright and colorful, and there's a rather silly song that never seems to end playing from somewhere overhead. Not that the kids could hear it over there incessant screams of joy. Max leads you over to a desk with several computers at it and a large screen behind it advertising the Sunnydrop energizing candies. Do they really give those to kids? You doubt they need anything energizing considering the pure molten energy they seem to have flowing through them right now.

Max types a password into the computer and fiddles with something in the system while you take in the sights around you more. Some of the children seem to be playing a rather intense game of tag, while others are sitting around a small table coloring. You smile. Even though you are nervous about being around so many little kids, you find some level of comfort in the thought. It can't be that hard, right? Especially if you're going to be working with... other people...

You look around the large daycare with more detail. There doesn't seem to be a single other daycare attendant in sight! Who is watching these kids? Were you expected to work alone?

You're going to mess this up. You always screw up, especially when it's something new.

"Okay, you're officially in the system, and you are authorized to handle drop offs, pickups, medicine inputs, and incident reports," Max says, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Uh, okay. A-Are you going to be working with me?" you stutter, the uneasiness you feel seeping into your voice. Max lets out a hearty laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he's heard all day.

"Hell no, I don't like being around the younger ones."

"Mr. Diaz, language!" you hear a robotic, high pitched voice say from behind one of the play structures. Your confusion must be pretty evident, because Max only laughs harder.

"Well, now you get to meet them," he says, winking at you once he calms down. "Sun! Remember when I told you that you'd be getting some help around the daycare?"

"Ohmygosh yes! Are they here now?" the same voice from before asks. Your eyes widen as a tall, yellow animatronic appears from behind the play structure holding one of the children in his arms. Several kids appear with him, all holding different stuffed Fazbear-themed plushies. He bends over and places the kid down before saying something to the rest of them and heading towards the security desk.

You take a hesitant step backwards. "I-I'm going to be working with an animatronic?" you ask quietly. This is insane. Neither Kat nor Max told you that there was going to be one of them working with you in the daycare. And it wasn't anywhere in the job description! The animatronic leans forward on the desk, his sunrays spinning slowly around his faceplate.

"Hello new friend!" he greets you. "I'm Sundrop! But you can call me whatever you'd like! Everyone has so many different names for me. But the most popular are Mr. Sun, Sunny, or just plain ol' Sun!"

Max types something into the computer again before smiling up at Sun. "She's going to be working with you as the human daycare attendant to get some of the work off of your back. Don't go chasing her away like the other one, though." Sun's rays stop spinning and shrink back slightly. It's almost as if he's... embarrassed?

"I-I'm Y/N," you say, sticking your hand out. Sun's face lights up and he reaches out to shake your hand from across the desk.

"That's such a lovely name, Sunbite! Oh, do you mind if I call you Sunbite? I give everyone nicknames," he says, speaking rather quickly. It makes you smile. He sounds just as nervous as you. The AI in him must be super advanced. You'd love to be able to read the coding that goes into his software, but you know you won't even get the chance to do anything like it until you're actually an engineer here, and not some measly little daycare attendant.

"I don't mind," you say. Of course you don't. You don't want to upset him already. He somehow seems to smile even brighter.

"Lovely!" he exclaims. Max's Fazwatch beeps and he curses under his breath. But before Sun can scold him again, he pulls his staff hat from his belt loop and puts it on.

"I am so sorry about this," he says to you. "But I have to go. Something just came up. But I'm sure Sun can show you the ropes of running the daycare for today, especially since naptime has already passed?" he pleads, turning to the animatronic. Sun nods eagerly.

"Of course I can, Mr. Diaz! Don't you worry, our new little friend will know all the ins and outs of the daycare before the end of today!" Sun says, waving as Max leaves. You, on the other hand, don't feel as confident. Still, you turn to the animatronic and smile nervously.

"So, where do we begin?"

You spend the last hours of the daycare day mainly learning about the routine and where everything is. Being distracted seems to have busied your mind enough that you don't really have time to have any negative thoughts. Especially because the kids seem to find an extra burst of energy with you being new, surrounding you and asking you question after question. After the first hour, you grew used to it though, answering them patiently. This had caused Sun to tell you that you were beginning to be a perfect fit for the daycare already, which had made your cheeks flush.

But now you're waving the last two kids out the front door from behind the security desk. The door closes and you sigh, flopping back into the office chair. Sun bounces in front of you on the opposite side of the desk. "You did absolutely wonderful, Sunbite!" he says rather loudly. It will certainly take a lot to get used to his base volume being noisier than you're used to. But still, you flash a grin at him.

"You really think so?" you ask as warmth tickles the back of your neck. "I-I don't really feel like I did much." Sun's rays begin to spin around his head again.

"You absolutely helped out. Normally the kids are bored by the end of the day and begin terrorizing each other because of it. But they really liked you." He turns and gestures wide with his arms. "Now for my favorite part of the day. Cleaning time!"

You find yourself chuckling softly to yourself. You don't mind cleaning - it was actually the part of this job that you were looking forward to the most. Making things nice and shiny was one of your favorite activities. It calmed you down and allowed you to think. Your anxiety would cool off and your negative self talk would quiet. So you head out from behind the desk and follow Sun around as he runs you through the cleaning routine. He continues to remind you how grateful he is for your help, repeating that the cleaning routine will go by so much faster now. Sometimes it feels like he's reminding himself in a way? If you weren't so enthralled by the amount of cleaning there was, you might have even wondered if he was talking to someone else...

After an hour and a half of scrubbing, wiping, sweeping, and vacuuming, you finally finish sanitizing the daycare with Sun. He thanks you repeatedly, and tells you that he can't wait to see you again the next day.

"Can I give you a goodbye hug, Sunbite?" he asks, holding his arms out. You smile sheepishly. You've only spent a few hours with the animatronic, but you find yourself enjoying his company and unable to deny his request. How could you deny that cute smile?

So you hug him. Much to your surprise, you don't come into contact with cold metal, and instead he is warm. It kinda throws you for a loop for a moment, as your brain tries to process the fact that you're not hugging another human, but you shove your thoughts aside and decide to just enjoy it. He also smells faintly of citrus, which only makes you smile and giggle a bit to yourself. When you pull from the hug, Sun turns his head to the side and his rays shrink down slightly.

"D-Did I say something funny?" he asks, and you immediately shake your head, still smiling.

"No, no, not at all, Sunny," you say. "I'm just finding this whole thing a bit bizarre is all."

"Oh, how so?"

You hesitate. "Well, where I'm from, there was an old Fazbear Pizzeria, but it was closed down when I was a teen. Still, there wasn't any kind of advanced AI in those animatronics. They were just machines inside of a cheap fuzzy suit." You shrug and walk back over to the security desk with Sun in tow.

"What was it like there?" he asks. You weren't expecting that. He's so curious, almost in a childlike manor. You wonder how often people actually answer his questions. But you smile nonetheless and answer him.

"Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie were on the mainstage," you say, and continue to describe the layout, pointing out that the daycare alone is bigger than the entirety of that small little pizzeria you used to spend all your summers at. You clock out of the system as you do so, and then place your hands on your hip. "It was my favorite place to go to growing up. Especially because.. Well, it doesn't matter," you say suddenly, cutting yourself off as bitter memories begin to cloud your nostalgia. Sun's shoulders sink at your unexpected shutdown.

"Hey, meatball!" a familiar voice says from behind you. You turn and smile at Kat walking through the door to the daycare.

"Hey, Catnip!" you greet. Sun also smiles and bounds over to Kat excitedly.

"Miss Diaz! What a pleasant surprise! You already know our Sunbite?" he asks. Your steps slow slightly as you approach. Wait, did he just say "our" when referring to you? Well, he probably means the daycare as a whole. Either way, you hug Kat once you reach her.

"Of course I know her," she says, ruffling your hair and flashing you a toothy grin. "We're roommates."

You place your hand to your chest in mock heartbreak. "Just roommates?! Kitkat, you wound me," you joke. She laughs and shoves your arm.

"My bad, we're best friends," she corrects herself. Sun's rays begin spinning around his head again.

"Oh! So this is the one you said worked at the uh... adult bar before!" he says, and your mouth falls open.

"You told him that?" you round on your friend. She holds her hands up in surrender.

"How was I supposed to know that you would end up working with him?" she asks, chuckling through her words. "Besides, it's not like he knows exactly what goes on in places like that," she says in a hushed voice. "But anyways, I came by to make sure you survived your first day, and it looks like you have, so I'm going to get ready for my shift!"

"Which parking lot did you leave the car in?" you ask, and she smiles deviously at you. "Figure it out," she says before turning back and walking back through the entrance. "See you later tonight, boys!" she calls over her shoulder.

"Bye Miss Diaz!" Sun says from your side, waving wildly. Before you can even begin to wonder why on earth she referred to Sun as "boys," he turns back to you. "So, the next day you work is this Saturday, correct?"

You give a puzzled look to the yellow animatronic. "H-How did you-"

"Oh! We're connected to the entire system!" he says, tapping his index finger to his head. "So we can see the schedules, place incident reports, and contact emergency services or head personnel if needed."

"Ah, well that makes sense." You walk over to the door of the employee entrance and Sun follows at your heel once again. You seriously feel like this poor animatronic doesn't get a lot of interactions from anyone besides the children. Once you reach the door, you stop and turn back to him. "Do you ever leave the daycare, Sunny?" you ask.

He clasps his hands in front of him, wringing his fingers together. "Well, uh, I don't," he says. You can't help but think that he looks adorable when he's nervous like this.

"Why not?"

"It's just not really required, I guess? Honestly, I'm not so sure." His rays shrink back once again, and you smile.

"Well, either way, I guess I'll see you Saturday!"

"Saturday it is!" he perks back up.

"Buh-bye Sunny," you say, and slip out of the door to grab your belongings from the employee locker room and head back home.

*****

A/N: AHHHHHH we finally met Sunny!! Does he meet your expectations? Does he?? God he's such a soft nervous boi, just needs some attention and love *cries*

Anyways, stay tuned because in the next chapter you get to meet Moon!! And then the real story can begin muahhahahah

Stay sweet, my lovelies~

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 7 months

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Everybody Hurts

Chapter 8

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Next chapter: 10/18

Word Count: 6K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

You propped your bike up against Jonathan and Nancy’s porch. It was a cozy little house with a cute little garden and flower boxes lining the front porch just like you had at your house. The windows and door were painted a vibrant blue against the cream siding. It resembled a house out of a storybook, bringing up the image of lazy summer days on the porch reading a good book or a bunch of friends in the backyard for a cookout.

You hoped to make your house half this cute by the time summer was over. The flowers were definitely a step in the right direction but it desperately needed a good paint job, a chore you were looking forward to because it would help fill your long summer, giving you something to do, something to keep you busy. You’d found downtime was your enemy because that was when the nasty little voice in your head started reminding you of all the ways you’d screwed up in life, the bad choices you’d made. There were some repairs to the house that you may have to pay somebody to do but if you were capable, you would be doing the work yourself and saving the money. And you were more than capable of climbing up a ladder and painting.

You had grown up middle class, or at least that’s what most people would consider you. Your dad was a loan officer for the bank and your mom taught high school. They’d never hurt for money but there had been times when things had been tough. You remembered your mom taking on a second job for a bit when your dad’s hours had gotten cut at work. You’d learned the importance of a dollar and to save where you could.

Unfortunately, when you’d been with Cam, he’d taken over the finances and you’d allowed him because he was your husband. But that meant that you never went through moving out and budgeting your life like most young people did. You hadn’t had to because Cam took care of it all but Cam liked to spend. He liked to show off, to let everyone know that he was doing well. That meant tailored suits, a car well beyond what he needed, and the four bedroom house that was way too much for the two of you. You hated it because it took you five hours to clean the same place every single weekend and it was the one thing you hadn’t been sad to let go of. You wouldn’t have been able to afford it on your own anyway.

Now, completely on your own, living off of one income, a teacher’s income, you had to remember all your parent’s lessons on pinching pennies and stretching your dollars. You had to sit down and create a budget, setting realistic limits on what you would be able to spend after all of your bills were paid. It made you feel like you were eighteen and just starting out in life instead of the thirty year old woman you actually were.

You made your way up the front steps of Nancy and Jonathan’s and onto the white porch, knocking on the door. Your insides twisted uncomfortably as you waited, doubts about confronting your friend bubbling to the surface once again, wondering if you were making a huge mistake, wondering if you even wanted to know the truth anymore.

You’d had second thoughts about this decision about a million times since you’d made it. As you drank your coffee this morning, you were certain that you were going to demand answers, set in your resolve to finally solve this mystery. By lunch, you had been reconsidering, telling yourself it was none of your business what had happened ten years ago when you hadn’t even been there. If you kept pushing, you might lose your new friends and could you blame them? During your planning period, you reminded yourself that if you were going to be spending time with Eddie then you had every right to know whether he was dangerous or not. It wasn’t just some secret. It was potentially a secret that could get you harmed and what kind of friends would they be if they allowed you to spend time with someone they knew could be a killer?

By the end of the day, after the kids had filed out of the classroom, you’d decided you were being ridiculous. Of course Eddie wasn’t dangerous. Aggravating? Definitely. A giant dickhead? Absolutely. But dangerous just didn’t fit. By the time you’d ridden home, you were set on asking the questions because even taking Eddie out of the equation, none of it added up. Your brain and your naturally nosy nature, something Cam told you would get you in trouble someday, couldn’t let it go. And if you were going to willingly live in this place and be friends with these people, didn’t you have a right to know what had happened that still clung to them like a cat with its claws burrowed in the front of their shirt? Maybe it had been ten years ago but from what you could see, it wasn’t really over for any of them or this town.

Jonathan opened the door, eyes round, eyebrows raised, as he took in the sight of you standing on his porch. It was almost comical how surprised he looked to find you there, like you’d just flown in on a broom instead of riding in on your bike. The look was quickly replaced with a warm smile as he stepped back, sweeping his arm in invitation.

“Hey there, come on in,” he told you. You crossed the threshold, the two of you standing in the foyer. “This is a nice surprise. Are you here for Nancy? Because she’s not here. She ran over to Mike’s. He called all frantic about something.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked with concern. Maybe this was bad timing. The last thing you wanted to do was interrogate your friend if she was dealing with a family emergency.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it’s nothing. Nancy would have said something before she left if it was anything big. She just said Mike was losing it again and she was going to calm him down. Mike sometimes blows things out of proportion, especially anything to do with El. It’s completely understandable after everything that…uh, I mean, he’s just a bit overprotective where she’s concerned..”

“Oh,” you groaned, feeling defeated. You’d been so sure you would get the answers you needed tonight but if Nancy wasn’t here, that wasn’t going to happen. You stilled, your eyes assessing Jonathan. He was Nancy’s husband. They’d been together for years. She’d told you herself that she’d left Steve in high school for him, that they’d bonded because they both had someone they loved go missing. If she’d told anyone about what had happened the night of the murder, it would be him. “I was looking for Nancy but, actually, you might be able to help me.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, I’m happy to help if I can.” Jonathan’s shoulders lifted up to his ears for a moment before dropping. “What do you need help with?”

You hesitated, wondering once again if this was a good idea. You considered the pros and cons of the situation, the potential risks and what could go wrong. For starters, you could alienate all the new friends that you’d made. They may avoid you if you pressed too much for information they obviously didn’t want to share. But the potential reward, which was finally getting some damn answers about what was going on in this town, what was going on with this group, and what in the hell had Eddie so tightly wound felt like a reward far too good to pass up. You had to at least try but you’d have to tread carefully if you wanted Jonathan to open up to you.

“So, a kid in my third grade class said something really strange yesterday and I’m having a bit of trouble with it. It just doesn’t make sense to me and, quite honestly, it was rather disturbing,” you explained, feeling like that was probably a better place to start than admitting that you’d combed through the archives at the library for information.

“Ooookay,” he chuckled, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “I’m not sure how I can help with that. I’ve never taught a day in my life.”

“It’s not really a teaching thing. The kid was Lance Johnson.”

Bingo. There it was. Jonathan’s eyes went wide, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed hard. The name clearly brought up something he didn’t want to think about, something that made him uneasy. You didn’t know if he would shut down on you or not but you had to keep pushing. You had to at least try.

“He’s been bullying this kid in my class, Charlie Emerson.”

“Of course he has,” Jonathan ground out between clenched teeth.

That gave you pause. You pulled herself up straight, “Do you know those boys?”

“I know one of them. Charlie, his dad’s name is Gareth. He’s in the band with Eddie. They’ve been friends since middle school,” he explained.

Of course. You felt like such an idiot. How many small rock bands were there in Hawkins that played gigs every week? How had you not put two and two together? Obviously Eddie and Gareth would know each other. So Charlie was Eddie’s friend’s kid? The two guys had probably shared in the abuse that guys like Lance’s dad loved to deal out in high school.

“The other kid, I don’t know him personally but I know his dad, Andy. He’s a real dick, always has been. He thought he was above everyone else because he knew how to dribble a basketball. Now he thinks he’s above everyone else because he lives in some big house over on Lochn’ora and drives a fancy sports car. What he fails to mention is his wife’s daddy bought them all of that shit. Andy made sure he married a girl who came from money. He’s a real piece of work, downright evil if you ask me. Him and his jock friends tormented Eddie and his friends all through middle school and high school because they weren’t what they considered normal and they were all part of the Hellfire Club.”

“Hellfire Club?” you asked, remembering the mention of that name in the newspaper but you couldn’t act like you’d already done all this research. Jonathan was sharing and you didn’t want to give any reason to stop. He would definitely stop if he knew how much you already knew, knew how hard you’d been digging into their pasts.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, running a hand over his mouth. “It was a DnD club, Dungeons and Dragons? I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it. It’s just a fantasy role playing game. Eddie was the head of it. He was the dungeon master, that’s what they call the guy who organizes, creates, and runs all of the campaigns. His bandmates were all a part of it too. He actually recruited Dustin, Mike, and Lucas when they were freshmen and he was a senior. Will probably would have been part of it too but we lived in California at that time. Will has loved that game since he was young. The four boys would play it all the time in Mike’s basement. But they all love Eddie, man, think the world of him. Dustin practically worships the ground he walks on, saying he was the only person who was nice to them on the first day. He was the person who gave them a place where they felt like they belonged. He saw them sitting alone, left out, and he took them under his wing. He didn’t have to do that.”

Well, that description certainly did not fit with the idea of him murdering people. Not only murdering them but sadistically mutilating them. For a senior to reach out to a freshman, to care enough that they had a safe space, was impressive. Most senior guys wouldn’t give a shit about some younger kids feeling like outsiders. They’d be too focused on the fact that they were on the top of the food chain now or joining in the fun of tormenting the younger kids. He went out of his way to help people feel like they belonged, like Peter Pan leading the children to Neverland. It touched you deeply that someone who had been tormented and bullied his whole life still had that much empathy for others.

“He sounds like a great guy,” you murmured, guilt gnawing at your insides, turning your stomach, for even considering anything else of him, for thinking it could be a possibility. It was ridiculous. Of course he wasn’t what those papers made him out to be.

“He is,” Jonathan insisted with a firm nod. “But I am guessing that’s not what Andy’s kid had to say, is it?”

“No,” you admitted, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and convince yourself not to do this, to just ignore what Lance had said and go on with your life. “He’s been picking on Charlie horribly, mocking him for his clothes, his hair, for playing drums. It’s been awful. He’s been calling Charlie a freak and I told him I didn’t want to hear it anymore. He said his dad told him they have to put freaks in their place so they don’t hurt anyone the way Eddie did.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows knit together, lips pulled back. The fury in his eyes was unsettling. It looked so out of place on a guy who had seemed nothing but gentle and sweet. He was so soft-spoken, his demeanor so calm. You wouldn’t have thought he had it in him to be angry but your words had definitely struck a nerve.

“And I am guessing that freaked you out a bit, huh?” he asked, his tone not matching the look on his face, understanding and compassionate, as if he knew how scary this must be for you. As if he didn’t hate the sight of you for ever considering such an awful thing about his friend. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I even considered the possibility but he told me that Eddie killed people and I…” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I mean, I shouldn’t have believed what a nine year old said for even a second but…it did mess me up a bit. Yeah. I hate to admit that but it rattled me. I’ve been alone with him a couple of times and for a second I wondered if I’d been safe. But, I know I don’t really know him, but I just couldn’t see him being capable of something like that and I just had to talk to somebody who knew so I could shed some light on it. I couldn’t make the image of Eddie fit with someone who could do such awful things and obviously, I was right. I just don’t understand what happened. How could he be blamed?”

“What happened was we had a slew of really grisly murders here a decade ago. I mean, it was really fucked up shit. The town immediately blamed Eddie, making him out to be the bad guy. He didn’t fit in, you know? He didn’t fit in their nice little box of what a resident of Hawkins should look or act like. I know what that’s like because I wasn’t far off. People said awful things when Will went missing. Some people even thought I had something to do with it because I was the quiet, weird loner.”

“Oh my god. That’s awful. I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you to have your brother go missing and then to have everyone think that you’d…Jesus Christ, is this place stuck in a time warp or something?”

“Something like that. And with all the panic across the country over DnD being some kind of satanic game that led to violent behavior, Eddie became the scapegoat immediately. They turned this high school kid into some monster under their bed. The town was out searching for him, ready to string him up. No trial, no jury of his peers, guilty on sight. Luckily, Hopper was able to prove he was innocent but…there are still a lot of people in this town who think he did it. It’s been rough for him. His house has been egged. His car has been vandalized. Dog shit has been left on his porch. For years, they would not let up. It’s quieted down a bit over the last couple. I think people have moved on for the most part. And well, Hopper’s given an earful to some of them but there’s still a lot of people who give him a wide berth when he walks down the sidewalk.”

“Why didn’t he just move away?” you asked, wondering why in the hell he would continuously put himself through that. Why would he want to be surrounded by people who hated him? He could have moved anywhere in the country and started fresh, in a place where no one knew who he was or the allegations against him. He could have left this town and their close mindedness in his rearview.

Jonathan shrugged, “He said this was his town too and no one was going to run him out of it. I mean, he grew up here just like the rest of us. But honestly, I think he stays because of his uncle. That guy’s the only stability he’s ever had in his life. Eddie would never leave him behind. He loves him but he also feels like he owes him everything. He never doubted Eddie for a second when so many others did. He proclaimed his nephew’s innocence from day one.”

“Even when Chrissy was found in his trailer? I mean, I know it’s his nephew but he never even considered it? Because it doesn’t make sense. Why was she even there? Were she and Eddie friends?”

Jonathan scrutinized you, a sense of cynicism and doubt seeping into his eyes. They widened slightly, his eyebrows shifted, studying you from head to toe as if trying to figure out what you knew. Damn. You’d clearly said just a bit too much with that last line of questions. You scrambled to come up with an explanation fast. You were actually starting to get answers. The last thing you needed was for Jonathan to clam up on you now.

“The kid in my class, Lance, he umm…he told me his dad’s friends were killed. He named Chrissy and a guy named Patrick. He also said there was another guy named Fred. He said Chrissy was found in Eddie’s trailer and that’s how they knew it was Eddie because she never would have been in his trailer.”

“A nine year old told you all that? He knew their names and everything?” Jonathan asked cautiously and you could tell he didn’t believe you. You were digging yourself a deeper hole and you weren't sure how to climb out of it.

“Well, I mean, obviously he was just repeating whatever his dad had said to him,” you backpedaled, your face faltering as you tried to explain away what you had said. Of course it didn’t make sense. Even if his dad had told him all that, there’s no way he would have remembered or cared that much about all those details. “I don’t know why a parent would want their child to know any of it, honestly but this Andy guy seems like he’s holding a serious grudge about everything.”

Just as pure panic was taking over, your rambling getting out of control as you tried to cover your own ass, you were saved by the front door opening. Nancy swept into the house. She called out for Jonathan and then jumped about a foot into the air when she noticed the two of you simply standing right inside. Nancy smiled confusedly, her head tilting.

“Hey…what’s going on?” she laughed.

“Andy Johnson’s little shit of a son told Sam that Eddie murdered a bunch of people and she was a bit scared that she has been hanging around some psychopath,” Jonathan answered.

“Oh…I…no…” you stammered nervously. Damn, you really didn’t need them telling Eddie that you’d believed he’d murdered people. You didn’t need him to have one more reason to hate you, this time a justified one. “It’s not that I actually thought he was capable of doing anything like that. I mean, I don’t really know him. You know? But from my interactions with him, very brief interactions, I didn’t get Ted Bundy vibes or anything. Although, I guess Ted Bundy didn’t actually give Ted Bundy vibes. Maybe I should have said Charles Manson. You know, someone who was actually creepy. I just…I was…confused, maybe? There are just so many things that don’t make any sense in this place.” You were panicking, words just tumbling out of your mouth without your consent, crossing over into dangerous territory if you didn’t get yourself under control but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. Your brain was screaming at you to shut up but your mouth just kept right on moving. “I don’t understand how Eddie just stopped being a person of interest. You said he had an alibi but then what was that cheerleader doing at his trailer? Where was he if she was there and why was she even there in the first place? I find all those stupid titles ridiculous but we all know they mattered in high school. Social classes don’t mix. So what would the beloved town cheerleader be doing with Eddie?”

“Oh, well, she was there because she wanted to buy some drugs off Eddie. Everybody at Hawkins High got their drugs off of Eddie back then. He may have been the freak that people didn’t want to hang out with but they definitely wanted what he was selling. He was the Hawkins dealer,” Nancy answered, rambling just as much as you had. When you looked at her in shock, she quickly added, “But he doesn’t do that anymore, obviously.”

Okay, well that explained his flash of annoyance when you called your local drug dealer a low life criminal. So, Eddie had dealt at one time? Okay. Whatever. You didn’t know his circumstances. Selling drugs didn’t necessarily make someone a bad person. Based on what you already knew, he may have been trying to help his uncle with bills or just have some spending cash of his own. Sure, he could have gotten a job but if the town really thought so badly of him, would anyone have been that willing to hire him?

“Yeah, Eddie wasn’t there when she…you know. I guess she got there and uh…well, the door was open,” Jonathan explained. But the way he had to think about it was definitely giving you the impression that he was flying by the seat of his pants, scrambling for a logical explanation to satiate you. “Him and his uncle never bothered locking it because they didn’t have a whole lot people would want to take anyway. Chrissy must have just let herself in.”

“Okay, but who would go into Eddie’s trailer to kill her? How would they even know she was in there if she wasn’t trying to be seen?” you demanded, feeling like they were still jerking you around and starting to get downright pissed about it.

“We don’t know,” Nancy shrugged. “They never did find out who the killer was, unfortunately. They think maybe whoever it was died in the earthquake. Maybe they went in the trailer with the intention of killing Eddie but he wasn’t there. When they found Chrissy, they figured she’d do instead or left her as a warning for Eddie, to let him know what was coming for him.”

Your eyes narrowed but you knew a lost battle when you saw one. You were getting nowhere fast with these two. They clearly had no intention of telling you the truth. Was this even worth it if they were just going to keep spinning you in circles? Every question you had, they came up with an answer, an answer that was obviously bullshit, but still an answer. Sighing, you tossed your hands up, giving up on your mission for the truth. It was clearly not going to be found here.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you murmured, exhausted and done, your brain completely drained from working overtime. “It’s none of my business. I’m probably just being ridiculous but it was a really insane story and I just…forget it. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t even live here when it happened so I don’t know why it matters. I am sure all of you would rather forget about that time. Thanks for the info. I am just going to head home, pour myself a glass of wine, make some dinner, and just lose myself in some ridiculously stupid show on tv.”

“Oh…are you sure?” asked Nancy, glancing from you to Jonathan and back again. “We were going to grill some burgers if you wanted to stay for dinner.”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I’ve intruded on your evening enough.”

“Really, we don’t mind,” Jonathan insisted but you weren't sure if he meant it or not. You had the distinct impression they would both be relieved to see the back of you right now. “There’s no point in you going home and being all alone.”

You smiled, “I actually don’t mind it so much. After working with very loud children all day it’s nice to have some quiet. Teaching can be quite the sensory overload. Besides, I have some work to get through. Really, I am good, but thank you.”

You needed the quiet right now. You needed some time to process and try to make sense of everything you’d learned and the stuff you’d not learned today. There was a lot being said in between all the things they weren’t saying, the questions they weren’t answering. If you weren't going to get answers from these two, then maybe you’d have to try something else. You just didn’t know what. Maybe you just needed to ask someone different. One of them might be more forthcoming than the others.

“If you’re sure,” Nancy said warmly, stepping forward to give you a quick hug. “I just hate the idea of you in that house all alone. Know that you are welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m okay.”

You said your goodbyes and as you were hopping onto your bike, you stopped, glancing up at the house. Through the front window you could see Jonathan and Nancy talking. It didn’t look heated but it definitely looked serious, their arm movements large and forceful. Nancy brought a hand to her forehead as Jonathan’s hands came to his hips, his dead dropping forward. Yeah, they could say whatever they wanted but none of this was as simple as they claimed.

___________________________________________________________

Around nine that night, you were wandering around, picking up the house. You’d already scrubbed the bathroom, wiped down the counters, and mopped the kitchen floor, anxious energy radiating through you after the events of the day. Your hands and arms worked intently, determined to complete something, to have some sense of accomplishment after failing spectacularly at your goal for the day. You’d been so sure you would end the day with answers, pieces that fit together to give you a complete picture of what had transpired in this small town all those years ago. But no, you’d just hit more roadblocks instead.

You’d uncovered a few new key pieces of information today. Max wore the sunglasses because she’d come into contact with the murderer, barely escaping being his next victim. You had briefly thought about trying to talk to Max but you couldn’t bring herself to ask the girl to relive her trauma like that. What an awful thing for her to have gone through. It would be cruel for you to ask her questions.

You’d learned that Chrissy had been buying drugs from Eddie. You’d also learned that the Chief had been the one to get him off. Steve was an officer now. He had said the Chief was the one who guided him in that direction which would lead you to believe they were pretty close. Perhaps Steve would be the next piece of the puzzle. Maybe you could get him to open up a bit more than Nancy and Jonathan had.

You’d also learned that Lance’s dad and Charlie’s dad had history and that history included Eddie. It didn’t really help you solve your mystery but it might help you remedy the situation between the boys that was growing more concerning with each passing day. Their issues weren’t really their own. Lance was lashing out because his dad couldn’t let go of old wounds.

Old wounds seemed to be a theme in this town. Everyone you’d encountered seemed to be scarred in some way by the events that had happened in the past. From the disappearances, the mall fire, the spree of horrific murders…this entire group was tied up in every single part of it somehow.

The sudden and startling sound of the phone ringing snapped you out of your reflective state, interrupting your rambling thoughts. You looked down at the dish in your hand that you had been scrubbing for the last five minutes without even realizing it. Setting it on the rack, you dried your hands before grabbing the receiver off the cradle on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Eddie.”

A sense of impending doom washed over you at the sound of his voice. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing becoming shallow and rapid, full blown panic setting in. Could he possibly hear it through the phone? It seemed too loud, echoing in your ears. Your stomach tightened. You pulled at your shirt, feeling hot and sweaty. Just the sound of his voice had sent you into fight or flight and you were definitely leaning toward flight, just hanging up the phone on him and hiding under your covers in your room.

Had they told him? Did Nancy or Jonathan call him as soon as you left and let him know you’d been asking questions? That you’d entertained the idea that he was capable of murder? It had only been for a moment but still. He already thought you were an intruder to their group. He already didn’t trust you. What would he think if he knew you were digging around in their pasts?

“Hello? Sweetheart, are you there?” he asked when the silence had lasted for far too long.

Sweetheart…he’d called you sweetheart. Not Prom Queen. He’d called you something endearing for maybe the first time ever since they’d met. He wouldn’t have done that if he was calling to tell you off, right? His tone wasn’t argumentative or contentious like it had been so many other times he’d spoken to you. But he could just be throwing you off your guard before he came in with the spear and gutted you.

“What the hell is wrong with the phone? Hello!? Sweetheart! Can you hear me!?”

You yanked the phone back from your ear as he yelled, “Yeah. Sorry. I’m here. Hi.”

“Oh…hey,” Eddie mumbled. “What the hell was going on with the phone?”

“I…I don’t know,” you lied, not wanting to admit that you’d just been ignoring him, analyzing why he was calling you like some neurotic psycho. “What’s up?”

“I…uh…well, I was actually calling to see if you’re free tomorrow?” he asked, his voice raspier than usual. He was asking if you were free? Why would he want to know? Could he be asking you out? Your heart fluttered quickly at the thought but then he quickly added. “I was going to get started working on your car but I need to get some parts first. I thought we could probably look at the junkyard before we try anywhere else, you know. Try to save you some money?”

Ahh, of course. That made much more sense than where your brain had taken you initially. Obviously Eddie wasn’t calling to ask you out on a date. You rolled your eyes at your own pathetic hope that he’d called for anything else. He wouldn’t willingly hang with you unless he had to and he had to since he was fixing your car. Although, he had offered his services so that was on him.

“Well, actually, I’m not available tomorrow. I’m going roller skating with everyone tomorrow night,” you answered. “Aren’t you?”

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

You did not like the way your stomach jumped at the use of that pet name. You despised that he called you Prom Queen but at least that filled you with annoyance instead of this twinge of delight. This twinge of delight that would only lead down a path of regret and disappointment.

“Not a fan of the rink?”

“You don’t want to see me on a pair of skates. Trust me,” he insisted. “I can shred a guitar, rebuild an engine, and create a killer campaign for DnD. I am a man of many talents but skating is not one of them.”

“Anyone can skate,” you argued. “It would be fun if you came. I mean, I would really like it if you came along. I could always help you skate.”

You bit your bottom lip, your head knocking against the kitchen wall, cringing when you realized you had just said the words you should never have said. Oh, that was so stupid. Why had you just done that? Why would you ever tell him that you wanted him around? He was going to love pulling you apart for that one. You were a glutton for punishment apparently, willingly strapping yourself to the rack to be whipped until you slowly bled out.

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone almost hopeful.

“Yeah, I mean…you know, if you wanted to.” You brought the phone to your forehead, closing your eyes. Jesus, why was this so hard? Why was he so hard and why did you even want this so badly? He was so wrong for you. He didn’t even seem interested. You were pointlessly hoping for something that was never going to happen. “But if you don’t, I get it. Obviously if you don’t want to go with your friends, you wouldn’t want to go just because I asked. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to…”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, I’ll go,” he agreed, his voice soft and warm, like honey oozing from the receiver and straight down into your ear, coating your insides with that dangerous desire again. “But if I break something, you’re going to be on nurse duty.”

Fuck. There was that zing of desire straight between your thighs again. You pressed them together, resting your back against the wall, closing your eyes. The thought of playing nurse for him, of taking care of him, doing anything you could to make him feel better…you swallowed hard. Fuck. Why did this guy have this effect on you?

“Deal,” you tremulously told him, working overtime to keep your voice even. “We’re all meeting at seven at the rink. Jonathan and Nancy are giving me and Robin a ride.”

“What about Harrington?”

“What about him?” you asked, confused.

“Is he going?”

“I think so,” you answered, shrugging even though he couldn’t see you, not understanding why he was worried about Steve specifically. “But he’s picking up Max, Lucas, and Dustin so I am pretty sure his car is already full.”

“Oh…” he trailed off, leaving you pondering why it mattered. “Alright then. I’ll meet you there. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

“Sweet…” But then he was gone, leaving your head spinning, your heart contracting as you processed that last word he’d spoken.

Chapter 9

Taglist

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therealjoejoemamakujo · 7 months

Note

Oneshot request for (gender neutral) reader getting Sniper to open up about a topic/subject that genuinely interests him, if you can :3

Ofc!!

(Scared for my first req, + so sorry if it's not what you wanted (╥﹏╥) Please lmk because I might do it again if you're not likin' it.)

Reader Getting Sniper to Open Up to Them About Something he Likes

Climbing up the ladder to the sniper's nest, you clung onto the metal for dear life, not wanting to look down at the ground below you, which seemed thousands of feet away.

You were looking for Sniper, and after not seeing him anywhere else around the base, you decided that he must be up in his nest.

Finally reaching said nest, you groaned as your body nearly flopped onto the floor, wanting to give it a hug for having taken it for granted for such a long time.

Remembering what you came here for, you looked up, searching for Sniper. There he was, sitting on a small, wooden crate that was placed by a little window shaped cutout in the sniper's nest. You assumed it was where he would sit on the job.

He noticed your presence almost immediately, and quickly whipped his head around to see who was there. He visibly relaxed after seeing that it was just you. Sniper didn't talk, instead waiting for you to say something first, maybe to explain why you were here.

"Hey..," you mumbled, taking a few steps closer to him. You offered Sniper a small smile, remembering to keep your distance from him.

"What?" he asked flatly, looking you up and down almost as if he were sizing you up for some reason. It was clear to you now that he probably didn't really want anybody up here with him, and for that you apologized.

"Sorry, I just.. haven't seen you all day, y'know?" you replied, looking down at the ground in a nearly awkward manner. You rubbed the back of your neck, not knowing what else to say.

"Hm," was all he responded with. Sniper then turned his attention back to the window he was looking out of before you came in here, no longer acknowledging your presence.

You took the opportunity to get closer, now close enough to sit next to him on the large crate. Looking intently as Sniper gazed out of the window, you noticed how relaxed he seemed to be, how peaceful he was.

"Why are you up here so much..?" you asked, genuinely curious. Whenever he got the chance, Sniper was always escaping to this tower of his, not coming down until it was time to sleep on most nights.

"'Cause," he grunted, still not looking in your direction or even answering your question. You pouted, not determined to get a real answer out of him.

"No, seriously, you always come up here. Why?"

Finally, Sniper turned his head ever so slightly to look in your direction, once again looking you up and down like he had done before. It was a habit of his, just looking at people like that.

"'Cause it's quiet," he spoke, keeping his gaze on you. It almost seemed like he was waiting for a reaction from you, though his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses.

You raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his answer. You wanted to know more now, so you thought you would keep the conversation going.

"What do you mean?"

"People ain't yellin' 'bout every li'l thing. Jus' me up here.. Usually," he answered, hinting at the fact that he would have been alone were it not for you "barging in."

You huffed, deciding not to acknowledge his comment. You turned your body some to face Sniper more directly now, a clear indication that you wanted to keep talking. To your surprise, he didn't seem to mind it, not making any move to stop you.

"Does the yelling like-.. bother you or something?" you asked, gazing up at Sniper as you intently waited for an answer, interested to seemingly know more about him.

Sniper shook his head before opening his mouth just a bit to speak. "'Ts annoyin'. Bickerin' over nothing," Sniper answered a bit harshly, only because the thought of it alone made him annoyed.

You couldn't help but agree with him on this. The yelling was pretty annoying. You were going to leave it alone now, but you felt that there was more to this.

"Well, what else. I mean, you're here even when it is quiet," you said matter of factly, looking back at Sniper once more to listen to him.

He stayed quiet for a moment. It seemed as if he was debating really talking to you or not. He knew that he could, given that he was closer with you than he was with other mercenaries. He just didn't know how to word it.

"'Ts.. Nice up 'ere." Sniper lifted his hand ever so slightly, pointing at the window in front of the two of you. You looked over, being able to clearly see the sun setting right before you. It was a beautiful sight, really. After being mesmerized by it for what seemed like forever, you looked back over at Sniper to see the smallest of smiles adorning his face.

"It is.. It's pretty," you commented, you eyes never leaving his face. You really wanted to burn the image into your mind, for seeing him smile was something you'd never really seen before.

Noticing your gaze, he looked over at you, but the smile never left his face. "Reminds me 'f home," he added, once again focusing his gaze to the sunset outside. You could tell that it really resonated with him, seeing how he slumped over and rested his chin on his hand.

Seeing this made him finally relax, finally feel at peace, and you knew that he would look at it forever if he could. Unfortunately, sunsets didn't last forever. After another few minutes of silence between the two of you, the sun had set completely.

You looked over at Sniper, expecting him to be back to his "usual" self, but he still looked happy.

"Beautiful, innit..?" he asked, keeping his gaze forward as he spoke. He had kept silent the whole time as to not ruin the moment, to let the both of you really take in the pretty sight.

Seeing him happy made you smile, and you were quick to nod. "Yeah, it's really nice. I've never seen that before- Er, not like this," you said, watching as the moon began to come into view.

"You should.. Makes ya appreciate everythin'," he replied, an almost unnoticeable way of saying that you were allowed to watch the sunset with him. He nearly seemed happy that he'd have someone to watch this with, though he would never admit it.

"Thank you," you mumbled, smiling at him a little more. You were happy to know that he trusted you enough to do something like this with him, and you'd definitely be coming back.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #sniper x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 oneshots

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helloalycia · 10 months

Text

the boy who cried wolf // alicia clark

summary: when you piss off Alicia without meaning to, the only way to get her attention is to 'injure' yourself. Of course, everybody knows the story of the boy who cried wolf.

warning/s: mentions of fake blood, injury and stuff to do with your eyes (AKA eye drops, idk if anyone is squeamish about this, but here's the warning just in case).

author's note: this is a drabble to me but a full blown imagine to others haha, either way i hope you like it! just a lil cute one for our fave zombie slayer <3

wattpad / masterlist

I played with the keyring in my hand, spinning it around on my finger mindlessly as I kept my eyes focused ahead. I was on guard duty, seated at the top of our gate with the perfect view of the land ahead, just in case anyone tried to enter the stadium. I didn't mind the job, but it was definitely a little boring at times, especially when I was on my own.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

I glanced over my shoulder, rolling my eyes playfully when I saw Nick Clark climbing up the ladder and taking a seat in the chair beside me.

"Nah, I was just anxiously awaiting your arrival, you just mean that much to me, Nicholas," I teased.

He grinned, shaking his head with amusement, before looking ahead. "So. Anything happening?"

"As quiet as it always is," I filled him in. "Which is a good thing, I suppose."

"Not even a squirrel?"

"No squirrels today," I replied with a chuckle.

We caught up with each other for a few minutes, making small talk, before it went quiet. I thought it would stay that way, a comforting silence, but then Nick spoke up again.

"So, apparently you and Alicia aren't talking," he said, and when I looked his way, he had a cheeky smile on his face like this was all he'd wanted to say the whole time.

"She isn't talking to me," I corrected him knowingly.

"Right, right, of course," he agreed, playing along.

"I would happily speak to her, but she's being immature," I said with a shrug, crossing my arms.

He quirked a brow, intrigued. "And why's that? What happened?"

I shrugged again. "Beats me. She's been acting like that a lot lately."

He snickered, looking ahead again. "You guys act like kids sometimes, you know that?"

"She acts like a kid," I corrected him for the second time, making him laugh. "All I did was offer to go on that supply run in a few days and then she just flipped out on me! She does it every time I offer as if I'm insane to want to help. I go, she pouts, I come back, then she gets over it. But it's getting old now, Nick, c'mon. You'd think she'd get over this whole routine of hers."

"Hmm," he hummed in agreement. "And is Hannah gonna be on that supply run?"

I furrowed my brows, confused. "Hannah? What's she got to do with this?"

Hannah was just some girl who lived at the stadium, a nice friend to have around. I didn't understand why she was relevant to this.

He smirked, amused. "Just answer the question."

I sighed, wondering where he was going with this. "Yeah, I guess."

"And was she on the last ones you went on?" he continued knowingly.

I quirked a brow. "Yeah, that's kind of what she does."

He hummed again, this time with a stifled smile, and it was driving me up the wall.

"What?" I pressed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He glanced at me sideways, lifting an eyebrow. "When was the last time you were in a relationship, Y/N?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," he confirmed, and for some stupid reason, I entertained it.

"Well, I haven't had time to be in one since the world went to shit," I told him truthfully.

"So, what – three years?"

"Damn," I realised, leaning back in my seat. "It's been a while, but... yeah."

He snorted, trying not to laugh. "That explains so much."

Growing tired of his games, I smacked him on the arm. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean, idiot?"

He rubbed his arm that I know definitely didn't hurt, before leaning in slightly. "Look, I don't usually like to get involved in my sister's life and relationships, but I like you, okay? And I think you'd be good for her."

My eyebrows knitted together, the confusion on my face clearly evident, because what was he talking about? Alicia and I were best friends, that's all.

"Dude!" he suddenly said, startling me, and slapping me on my arm. "She likes you!"

I raised my eyebrows, not expecting this in the slightest. Alicia liked me?

"She's jealous, you idiot," he continued to explain. "Every time you go on these supply runs with Hannah, she's jealous that it's not her going with you."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head, refusing to believe it. "But I– I mean– I ask her if she wants to come– but–"

Nick groaned quietly, fed up. "She doesn't like that you're always with Hannah when you're not with her."

I blinked, needing a minute to process what he was saying. All this time Alicia liked me? Out of my league, headstrong and super smart Alicia? Stunning, makes me weak in the knees with a simple smile and has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen Alicia? No, that couldn't be right. Could it?

"D'you like her back?" he asked when I didn't speak.

I hesitated, eyes meeting his curious ones before looking away. As much as Nick and I got along, he was still Alicia's brother. Would admitting I liked his sister not be extremely weird?

"Don't think of me as her brother," he said, practically reading my mind. "Just your friend. C'mon."

My palms were suddenly sweaty and I found myself exhaling slowly, trying to find words.

"I, er– yes, I do," I admitted, avoiding his eyes because it was still embarrassing and I'd never really admitted it aloud. "But it's Alicia. It's just a crush, not an actual possibility."

He snorted. "You may wanna reconsider that..."

She liked me? I couldn't believe it, I was amazed, excited and nervous all at once. This was quite literally the impossible to hear.

"You should talk to her," he encouraged.

I should talk to her. Now that I had confirmation – kind of – that she liked me, too, maybe I had a chance. Nick was right! I just needed to–

Wait. Alicia hated me right now.

With a defeated sigh, I shook my head. "She won't even look at me."

He let out the most dramatic groan ever. "Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?" Glancing at me, he added, "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Please, for God's sake, figure something out. It's annoying watching her pout."

I pressed my lips together as another silence fell between us. Maybe he was right and I would figure something out. I had to, after all. Because Alicia liked me.

A smile curled on my lips and I tried not to let my giddiness get the better of me.

She liked me.

Naturally, all I could think about were Nick's words for the rest of my guard shift, and they continued to rattle around my brain well into the night when I was finally able to go to sleep. When I awoke the following morning, I knew what I had to do. It had been so long, too long, of me hiding my feelings and pushing them away. But not anymore.

No, now I was going to tell Alicia how I felt.

I tried to find her at breakfast, spotting her at a bench with Nick and Luciana, looking a little tired but otherwise content with eating her scrambled eggs.

"You got this," I mumbled to myself, before heading over there to speak to her. When I stopped by the bench, I smiled down at her. "Alicia, hey. I–"

But I didn't even get to finish greeting her because as soon as she realised it was me, she rolled her eyes and left, taking her tray with her. I raised my brows, surprised, and watched as she left the area altogether. I knew she was annoyed at me from yesterday – jealous, as Nick had said – but not to this extent. Okay, maybe it made sense considering she always acted like this, but I didn't want to mess around anymore.

Nick and Luciana trying to stifle their laughter is what made me look to them questioningly. I frowned, giving Nick a look.

"Try harder?" he suggested unhelpfully.

I closed my eyes, groaning to myself, before knowing he was right.

After finishing my usual morning chores, I attempted to find Alicia again. Every time she got into one of her moods, the length of them varied. Sometimes she'd ghost me for all of the days leading up to the supply run and other times it could be over within a day. Maybe I'd get lucky and she'd be over it by now.

Madison kindly pointed me in the right direction, telling me that Alicia was working first aid today, so I immediately headed over to the medbay, hopeful that I might finally be able to confess the truth to her.

Upon spotting the door to the medbay, I sucked up a breath and knocked on it. After a moment, it opened and I was relieved to see Alicia.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, still unsure whether she was annoyed at me or not. "I was looking for you everywhere and–"

"Are you dying?" she cut me off with a blunt tone, eyes narrowed.

"No, but–"

"Then go away." She closed the door in my face before I could even register what she'd said.

So still annoyed then.

Chewing on my lip, I turned around and tried to think of a way to speak to her, or even just have her attention for more than a few seconds so I could tell her how I felt. If what Nick had said was true, then maybe this would make things right.

That's when someone walked past with a bandaged arm and I got an idea. She was working first aid today and there was no way she could ignore me if I was injured...

Trying to dial down my prideful grin, I approached the door to the medbay barely an hour later. Though this time, I had the genius idea to appear injured. All it took was a little ketchup dribbling down my hand and I knew she'd have to give me the time of day.

I knocked on the door yet again and managed to keep the smile from my face, wanting to play the part of victim as realistically as possible. When it opened, Alicia was surprised to see me again, especially with my 'bloody' hand raised.

"Oh my God, Y/N, what did you do?" she asked instantly, her moody resolve fading as she seemed to forget that she was supposed to hate me.

Ushering me inside, she led me to a bed to sit on, keeping my hand elevated and already grabbing some bandages.

"Silly mishap with a knife," I lied, feigning pain. "But now that I've got you–"

"Wait," she interrupted, pausing, and her eyebrows furrowed over curious green eyes as she sniffed the air. Suddenly, her eyes fell to my hand. "Is that ketchup?"

I swallowed nervously. "No."

It was silly of me to think I could trick one of the smartest girls I knew, especially when her irritation returned and she began to glare at me.

"Alicia, it's not–"

She licked my hand, the ketchup coming off with her tongue, and I pretended to be offended as I snatched my hand away.

"Alicia, that is not hygienic!"

"Oh my God!" she shouted, before slapping me on the arm hard. "It is ketchup! I can't believe you!"

I sighed, my pretence failing. "Okay, maybe, but–"

"You're an idiot!"

"–but you you wouldn't speak to me!" I continued desperately. "I'm sorry for lying, but it was the only way to get you to listen to me!"

She scoffed. "Well, guess what, I'm not. And you can't make me, Y/N. Now go."

"Alicia, please–"

"Now," she warned, eyes sending daggers my way.

"If you could just give me one minute–" I tried once more, and she groaned in response before leaving the medbay herself, knowing I wouldn't.

I sighed yet again, disappointed and impatient. Wiping the ketchup off my hand and cursing myself for my stupidity, I wondered if it was time to just give in and let her moodiness simmer for a while longer, like always. Maybe when she calmed down I could tell her the truth about my feelings.

When the day of the supply run finally arrived, I hoped it would also be the day Alicia stopped ignoring me. Especially considering I didn't go on it and so her whole reason for hating me wasn't applicable anymore. But of course, she still didn't speak to me and there was nothing I could do about it.

Having no choice but to busy myself with more chores since my best friend didn't even want to be in the same room as me, I was helping Nick build a structure for a shed by the kitchen area. It was his fault I was in this mess, kind of (not really, but it was easier to blame him), so he was subjected to my endless rants about the whole situation.

"...and I just think you were wrong, Nick," I was saying with a sigh. "She doesn't like me, not like that."

"Oh, she definitely does," he assured me with full confidence.

I resisted the urge to glare at him. "Did you actually hear her say that word for word?"

He snorted. "As if she'd admit that." I sighed inwardly, shaking my head, and he continued, "Look, she'll come around. She's just being petty."

"I know, I hate petty Alicia," I grumbled to myself.

He laughed, distracted by prying out a screw with a hammer, but he was clearly struggling. "Wait, I can't get this out."

I went quiet as he attempted to yank it out with the back of the hammer, but it wasn't budging. I was going to offer to help him, but before I could say anything, he suddenly pried it out with a start. Unfortunately for me, the screw flung out of the wood and back into my eye, making me yelp in pain.

"Fuck, Nick!" I shouted, immediately covering my closed and throbbing eye. "You arsehole!"

He panicked, eyes widening as he dropped the hammer to look at me. "Oh my God, Y/N, I'm so sorry! Let me see, shit."

I breathed out slowly, hoping the pain would go with it, but my eye was watering and it hurt too much to blink.

"C'mon, let me see," he said gently, grabbing my hand.

I let him pull my hand away, forcing myself to open my eye and wincing at the stinging in that area. He scrunched his face up unhelpfully.

"It's going red really fast," he said with uncertainty, taking a careful look.

"Yeah, because it fucking hurts," I complained, before closing my eye and covering it with my hand again. It probably wasn't helping, but the pressure gave me something else to focus on.

"We need to go to the medbay, come on," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me there.

"Oh yeah, let's go see Alicia who hates my guts," I mumbled to myself.

When we reached the door, Nick didn't bother knocking as he opened it and led me straight inside. As soon as Alicia turned to see who it was, her eyes narrowed.

"No way, we're not doing this again," she said firmly, before attempting to push us out. "No more ketchup, stab wounds, gun shots, whatever you have planned!"

"I'd love to say I had a better trick up my sleeve, but I'm not joking," I told her as Nick stopped her from getting rid of us. "Your brother is just an idiot."

"Hey!" Nick exclaimed.

Alicia, who looked like she didn't believe us in the slightest, sighed and looked between us. "Fine. I'll entertain this for a minute. Go on. What's the problem?"

I smiled awkwardly, before removing my hand and opening my eye with a grimace. It mustn't have looked good as she dropped her attitude and widened her eyes.

"What the hell happened?!" she asked with concern, stepping forward and grasping my face gently to get a better look at my eye. "Nick, what did you do?!"

Admittedly, the contact drew the breath from me, making me forget how to speak. Then she slightly turned my head and I flinched at the pain in my eye, coming back to reality.

"It was an accident to be fair," I defended him. "He was pulling out a screw and it just happened to hit me in the eye."

Alicia's worried eyes flickered over to mine, jaw clenched, before she rolled her eyes with irritation.

"It'll be okay," she assured me, as if biting her tongue. "It just needs some saline solution, a compress and some painkillers."

Nick nodded. "Awesome. So, I'll leave you to it then! That okay, Y/N?"

I glanced over to see him smiling sheepishly at me, awaiting my confirmation.

"Bye, Nick," I said, making him give me a thumbs up before departing.

Alicia scoffed to herself before pointing to the bed sternly. I took a seat at the edge, holding my eye comfortingly as she went to look for aforementioned items. I may or may not have snuck in some cheeky eye rubs, hoping to relieve the itchiness that I couldn't quite seem to abate no matter how much I blinked, but Alicia noticed without even turning around.

"Stop it," she ordered, back to me, and making me jump.

"It hurts," I whined, but lowered my hand.

"It's gonna hurt if you keep rubbing it," she mocked in the same voice I used, returning to me with supplies in her hand. "It's irritated, you moron."

I pressed my lips together, knowing I shouldn't say anything to further piss her off, especially considering I needed her help before I got a stupid eye infection from Nick's mistakes.

She began to squirt some saline solution on to her hand to test it out, and I couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow with thought.

"Were you seriously not going to help?" I asked, referring to when she was about to kick me out before.

"Can you blame me?" she asked, not even glancing up at me. "You're the boy who cried wolf, Y/N. Or the idiot who thinks ketchup doesn't smell like ketchup."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Once. And it was only so I could talk to you."

"Whatever," she said sharply, before nodding at me. "Lay down."

I did as she said, though I wasn't going to let this opportunity slide. "You don't need to be upset anymore, Alicia. I didn't go on the supply run with Hannah."

She clenched her jaw but didn't say anything. Instead, she leaned over me with the saline solution tube and held it above my eye. Just as she squeezed it to drop in, I instinctively closed my eye, feeling it hit my lid.

"Y/N!" she said with a scolding tone, and when I opened my eyes, she was glaring at me.

"Sorry, sorry," I apologised nervously, eyes unable to look away from the tube. "It's scary!"

I was never good with eye drops or anything that needed to go in my eyes, so this was truly a nightmare.

"Quit being a baby," she muttered with annoyance, before returning to her position above me again.

"Sorry," I said again, before blinking a few times then looking up at the ceiling. "At least you're talking to me again."

"Stop talking and let me do this," she instructed impatiently.

I sighed, humming, before trying to distract my thoughts from the tube that was awfully close to my eye. This time, however, when Alicia squeezed it, the drop landed in my eye.

"Keep your eye closed," she said, not quite annoyed but not quite empathetic either.

I did as she said, then felt her fingertip on my lid, gently rubbing over it to massage the solution in. It was only for a few seconds, but again, the mere contact had me forgetting what was going on.

"Up, c'mon," she said, and I opened my eye to see her packing the solution away.

I pushed myself into a sitting position, immediately feeling the corner of my eye watering.

"My eyes are watering," I told her, blinking a few times.

"Shame," she said without pausing, and I wasn't sure what to do, but then she groaned quietly and grabbed a tissue, holding it out to me.

"Thanks," I said, accepting it and watching as she packed away some things with a pent up aggression. It was beginning to amuse me the longer I watched.

"Are you really that jealous?" I asked with disbelief, patting the corner of my eye dry.

She paused, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

I tried not to laugh as I held her steady gaze. "Jealous. Of Hannah."

She scoffed harshly. "As if I'd ever be jealous of that ever-present, clingy girl."

"Uh huh... then why are you so annoyed at me for going on supply runs with her?"

She rolled her eyes before going to the opposite side of the room to wet a cloth at the sink. "I'm not."

I gave her a knowing look, even though she was avoiding meeting my eyes. "Alicia."

Again, she rolled her eyes, which I caught as she returned to me with the damp cloth.

"Put this on your eye," she said, changing the subject. "You're done."

I lifted the cloth to my eye, relieved at the cold compress, but the pain was still stuck behind my eye. "It still hurts," I told her, whilst trying to read her expression, but she was good at hiding how she felt.

"Fuck, the painkillers," she mumbled to herself with frustration, before turning around to get them.

"Look, I just wanted to say that I don't think Hannah is that bad," I continued, whilst she was distracted, but she only snorted in disagreement. "She's just being nice."

"A little too nice," she mumbled to herself, but I heard it loud and clear, and it made me smile to myself.

Maybe Nick was right after all.

"I don't like Hannah like that," I assured Alicia.

Playing dumb, Alicia asked, "Why would it matter if you did?"

"It doesn't, I suppose, but I'm telling you just in case it means you'll talk to me again," I told her truthfully. "Because I miss you, Alicia."

Alicia stopped her searching and sighed, shoulders relaxing as she did. From behind, I could see her rubbing her face before she turned around, expression softened and free of anger.

"Maybe I've overreacted," she realised regretfully, still not meeting my eyes. "I just–" Catching herself, she shook her head and grabbed the painkillers from behind her before returning to me.

"You what?" I asked curiously.

She forced a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just being overprotective. You're my best friend and I've got to look out for you. Hannah didn't seem right. That's all."

"Is that it?" I asked, watching as she played with the painkillers in her hand distractedly.

She nodded, but I saw the disappointment. "Yeah."

I stood up, lowering the cloth and throwing it on the bed. "Nothing else?"

Confused, she glanced up at me. "What else could it be?"

I swallowed hard, wondering if this was it. Should I tell her? Was Nick right? Should I make the first move?

"Well?" she pressed, eyebrows furrowed.

I needed her to admit it.

"Why do you think Hannah isn't right for me?" I asked, searching her eyes.

She tried not to pull a face. "Well, for starters, she knows nothing about you."

"Seriously?" That was a new one.

"Yeah, and don't get me started on his flirty she is in public," she said with an eye roll. "It's just gross."

I clenched my jaw, trying not to smile with amusement, because how had I not see this before? The pure jealousy? Her usual bright eyes were darkened as she spoke of Hannah, matching her slightly pink cheeks. Adorable.

"It's true!" she defended once she saw my humoured expression, only serving to deepen the blush on her face.

"Okay, okay," I played along. "So, what is right for me, if not her?"

She shrugged and began to pour me a glass of water, clearly not appreciating being put on the spot.

"Oh, no, c'mon, you have to have some ideas," I encouraged, a smile forming on my lips.

She handed me the glass and some painkillers, which I busied myself with as she spoke.

"I don't know, I guess somebody who isn't annoying for one. Someone who knows you. Someone who isn't irritating to be around."

"Someone who isn't clingy," I added, repeating her words from earlier. "Someone who isn't ever-present."

"Yeah," she agreed, crossing her arms and staring at me with an unreadable expression. "Someone who isn't overzealous."

I hummed in agreement. "Someone who gets my jokes, right? Someone easy on the eyes and fun to be around."

She nodded in agreement, relieved I was understanding. "Exactly."

It was too easy, I could almost laugh.

"Someone who makes me smile," I continued. "Someone who can be there for me." She was nodding as I spoke, and then I said, "Someone like you?"

"Yes, exact– wait, what?"

I chuckled as I put the glass to one side, taking in her stunned expression and red face.

"What– why would you say that?" she asked, attempting indifference, but I could see right through her.

"You know, I didn't really think that jealousy could be the reason," I commented, ignoring her question. "I truly wouldn't have suspected it in a million years. Not with you, Alicia. Confident, outspoken Alicia. And definitely not for someone like me. But when Nick mentioned it, it made sense. I mean, he knows his sister better than anyone, right?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, nerves visible from the the tightened crossed arms to the complete and utter silence. "What are you talking about?" she finally asked, the words barely escaping.

"You like me," I said to her straightforwardly. When she didn't speak, I quirked an eyebrow. "You do, don't you? That's why you've been annoyed at me for hanging out with Hannah."

She didn't speak, nor move, and in fact looked a little scared, despite trying to hide it.

"It's okay," I told her quickly, not wanting to worry her. "I like you, too. A lot, actually. Which is why it's sucked when you ignore me."

She frowned, looking down at her shoes.

"If I had known you felt the same, I would've said something," I admitted, eyes unable to look away from her. "I wasn't trying to make you jealous or anything. I was genuinely just hanging out with Hannah because she's nice. Yes, she can be a little flirty and clingy, but it didn't matter to me because I don't like her like that. The last thing I'd want to do is annoy you or upset you, Alicia, and I'm sorry if I did that."

She sighed, shaking her head. "No. You don't need to apologise. But I do." Finally, she looked up and I was relieved to see her expression, no longer irritated. "I've been immature, ignoring you like I have. I'm sorry."

I smiled a little, holding out my hand towards her. Thankfully, she accepted it.

"Bygones?" I asked.

She nodded, letting me squeeze her hand gently.

"You still haven't said if you, you know," I added, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

"What?"

I gave her a knowing look. "You like me."

She closed her eyes, breathing out slowly, before meeting my gaze. Green eyes softening beautifully, she said, "I like you. Happy?"

Grinning, I said, "Ecstatic."

She rolled her eyes, but a smile ghosted her lips.

"So, does the injured girl get to ask her very cute nurse on a date or is that against the rules?" I asked lightheartedly, taking a step closer and not quite letting go of her hand.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, shoving me in the arm.

I laughed at her embarrassed expression, beginning to appreciate this flustered, nervous version of Alicia. If I'd known I had this much of an effect on her, I would've done something sooner.

"So, do you want to go on a date with me?" I asked with a bit more seriousness.

She pursed her lips, eyes flickering between mine, before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

I couldn't stop smiling. "Awesome."

She suddenly pointed a finger over my shoulder, to the door. "Try not to walk into a wall on your way out, yeah?"

I snickered, but didn't move a muscle. Even though my butt-of-the-joke vision was definitely a nuisance right now, I could still see enough to admire how beautiful Alicia looked right now.

"Alicia?"

She lifted a brow with mild annoyance, as if expecting another joke. "Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Once again, she was stunned, eyes looking everywhere but at my own as she tried to find her words. "I– sure. Yeah."

I stifled my laughter and leaned in to kiss her, having wanted to do so for a long time now. She kissed me back, falling right into it, and any nerves she once possessed were gone. Instead, she was full of confidence, hands falling into my hair, and my heart was thumping way too loud for her to have not heard.

Finally, I had told Alicia Clark how I felt, and it had paid off.

#alicia clark #alicia clark x reader #alicia clark x you #alicia clark imagine #alycia debnam carey #fear the walking dead #fear the walking dead imagine #ftwd #feartwd

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cornerstoreclown · 1 year

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Sweet Dreams

Summary: This is a short one-shot (1924 words) where the reader (Gender Neutral) is in an established relationship with Art and they’re laying in bed thinking about him. As they try to sleep, they get an unexpected visitor.

Warnings/Contents: Um. Fluff? Domesticity? That’s more on the contents side of things. There’s nothing really worth mentioning being a warning, I think.

Author’s notes: I feel like this isn’t my best work, but in the advice artists give one another, I’ll post it anyway. I’m very, very, tired, but I wanted to spit out content before next week. I got some great news--I’m moving up the career ladder (new job in my career path that’s basically a huge promotion) on top of me going back to school next week for certifications.

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Last you checked the time, it read 2:00 AM.

You have work in the morning. Early in the morning.

Dread fills you as you already know that you’re going to feel like dogshit. It’s like the terrible beginning to your day that technically started at 12am.

Sleep just isn’t coming to you tonight. She’s been elusive. She’s been tricky. Avoiding you on purpose, you dare think. She seems to come to everyone else so easily, but not you. Never you, it feels like. Some nights she gives you reprieve, but this wasn’t one of those nights. Maybe it’s all those thoughts swirling around in your head–you noticed it happens a lot more around October that you’re tossing and turning until you hurt, which makes it even more uncomfortable to try and sleep. You’re on your stomach, staring off in the darkness at nothing in particular, stuck in a momentary trance.

It was hard to sleep knowing that he’s around. October is his month, after all. And it’s getting close to the 31st of the month. It was hard to not think about him. He’s all you could think about during this time of the year. It’s so stupid how he’s consumed your life, how he’s become so entangled in your life, and how you just let him. He’s near impossible to escape in the fall. You see warnings posted for him, you see him on news broadcasts, you listen to the radio warnings. Sometimes you’d think that you’d see him in the corner of your eye on the streets at night when you were walking alone.

You miss him.

You’re tempted to reach for your phone nearby on your nightstand, maybe scroll through social media a bit, see if there’s any new chatter about the Miles County Clown. But you dread the thought of seeing what time it is and seeing how long you’ve been laying around in a sleepless fit. A few minutes of debating, and you finally reach for the phone and click the button on the side where it lights up and reveals the time to you in white font.

3:04 AM.

You feel yourself gain an extra level of fatigue reading that and opt to click on the side of the phone to turn the light off. Doing any reading about him will just make you all the more anxious. Taking a deep sigh, you roll on your back, put one of your pillows over the top half of your face and again, inhale deeply, trying to not think about the fact that you have to be up in a few hours, but it only seems to impede any progress you have hope in making.

At least your bed smells nice. Smells fresh. You cleaned the sheets and pillows yesterday on your day off. You focus on the scent, and it fills you with comfort. You feel yourself start to relax.

Some time between now and whenever but obviously before the time the alarms you set on your phone went off, you’re at the threshold–the land between dreams and reality, and you hear it.

A set of rhythmic knocks at your front door, before the sound of the door handle being jiggled.

You recognize those knocks. It’s why you’re not getting out of bed. You instead just opt to go a little further under the covers, and when you hear the door swing open and close, you cough purposefully. Your way of letting your location known.

You register the THUNK of what you assume is a bag hitting the floor, and the sounds of various heavy items inside of it clattering along with it. You then hear footsteps make their way in your direction, and you’re relaxed. You recognize the weight of those steps and the pace. Then, you hear your own bedroom door open, and your eyes sharply turn towards the creaking door. It’s dark, but there’s just enough light emitted by the moon tonight that’s shining through the blinds on your windows that you recognize who is staring back at you. A lithe man, with a distinct nose and sharp chin, with a wicked smile, though this time, the wickedness looks more on the muted side, to what you can interpret as contentment.

“Hey, Art.”

You gave Art a spare key to your apartment last week. You don’t know if that was a good idea or not, but you did it anyway. Better than him trying to bust his way in, because you know he’s capable of doing such things. He has an air of the supernatural to him, though you don’t know how far his limits go, and if he’s hiding anything from you that you haven’t seen from him already. He’s cheeky like that.

As he comes closer and steps further into the moonlight shining into your bedroom, you see it, but you only see it because it’s on the white parts of his costume. Dried blood. You know that if it was wet, you’d be able to smell it. Fresh blood often reminds you of rust, and you’ve become quite accustomed to the scent of it thanks to Art and by no choice of your own.

He makes his steps closer towards the bed, and you feel yourself stir as you realize that, even though his clothes look dry, that doesn’t mean that your freshly cleaned bed wouldn’t be desecrated. He’s still dirty, dry or not.

You can’t make out what he’s doing as he’s standing right at the end of your bed and leaning forward with one hand on the mattress for support, but you hear the familiar clunk of his clown shoes and you realize that he’s taking them off before preparing to get in.

“Oh, Art, no–” You start to prop yourself up on your elbows, fatigue still heavy in your voice, but it’s too late. He’s already dived under the duvet, and you’re just too exhausted to fight it.

Seconds later, right at your side, Art pops out from under the covers, darkened eyes meeting your tired ones. Even though you’re not happy that he’s ruining your bed, you do find yourself trying to hold back a smile. His hat’s slanted slightly differently from the blanket pulling at it, and you extend your hand out from under your blanket and fix it until it’s at its proper angle on his head again.

You sigh at him, your smile faint. You feel your head pounding. Exhaustion is overtaking you, and the thought that you’re going to have to clean your bed again later puts weight on your shoulders that you wish you didn’t have right now. You muse that maybe the murder clown will kill you in your sleep tonight, and for a flicker of a second, your sardonic sense of humor finds that great, actually. What a relief, to not exist anymore. He’d be doing you a favor. Humans weren’t meant for the intense level of grind that this society puts upon them, and the stress kills.

“Staying the night, are we?” You ask him. You can still see him through the faint light in your room.

He watches you, fluffing the set of pillows next to your own before laying his head down on them. Judging by the way that he’s settling down, you take that as his way of saying ‘yes’.

“Okay, fine. But tomorrow, you’re helping me clean the sheets.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs quietly, looking as if you asked a major chore of him. ‘Ugh, fine,’ is what you read from his bodily response. You know he’ll help though. He’s surprisingly helpful around the place with cleaning. That’s why you don’t take offense to him acting the way he is right now. You purse your lips, swallowing any tired, delirious type of laugh you felt bubbling at the back of your throat.

You lower your body back down into the mattress, putting your head on your pillows. You turn your head so that your face is inches from his. It was weird, this level of domesticity between you two. He’s a monster, but not to you. Not ever to you. You wonder if he has the same needs that humans do, if he needs love too. Love was on the hierarchy of needs for humans, as was a sense of belonging. Is it stupid to think that? He’s not human. He’s not like you.

Yet, absentmindedly, you reach out for his hand under the shared covers between the both of you, and when you grasp a hold of it, you interlace your fingers with his, and he lets you.

Art’s hands are rough and calloused, but that’s what happens when you work with your hands as much as he does. The tips of his fingers are a little cold, but the rest of him is surprisingly warm. His body temperature was always a little higher than the average person’s body temperature. Simply another reminder that he’s not human.

You feel the way that he lightly squeezes your hand. Hands capable of being so rough and tearing open ribcages.

“I have work in a few hours.”

Art makes a face of disgust. He looks appalled.

You finally laugh, and he laughs silently with you, eyes shut tight as he does so, wrinkles showing on his face as his teeth show. Those jaws of his are weapons just as much as his hands.

“Been a hard night.” You tell him. And it has. Being awake in the middle of the night with your thoughts is tortuous. Maybe more tortuous than anything Art could do to you, you think. You’ve been trying to be less of your own worst enemy, but it’s been a constant uphill battle.

Art’s other bloodied hand extends out and reaches for the side of your face. His hands are stained with someone else, and yet in the end, he comes here to you. There’s no changing him. You watch him through half lidded eyes, focusing on the way that his thumb strokes your cheek. He’s so tender, yet you know that he’s so cruel. You don’t know what he sees in you, but you pray it never ends. You pray that when you drift off into sleep tonight, if that’s even possible, that he’s there, and that he lets you wake up and this isn’t your last night on this planet that floats aimlessly through the infinite sea of stars.

You’re so frustrated by the lack of sleep you feel like you almost want to cry, but you don’t. Instead, you scoot closer under the covers, right next to the Miles County Clown, resting your head under his chin. You both adjust accordingly so that you’re pressed up against him, and he’s got his arm around you now. Your hands are pressed up against your own chest. You’ll be irritated about the fact that he came to you after killing someone later. For now, you seek comfort.

You seek sleep.

And in his arms, he rubs your back gently, and you can’t see his face, but you’re sure he’s rather indifferent in his expression.

You feel yourself begin to drift off, your muscles relax, and you lose consciousness. The last thoughts you remember having is that you hope that he’s still there in the morning.

When the sun finally rises, you'll be delighted to find out when you open your eyes, that he was, because he wakes you up for the proper time, not your phone's alarms.

#art the clown x you #art the clown x reader #terrifier #slasher x you #slasher x reader #coulrophilia #minors dni #art the clown #long post #I skimmed this so fast for errors I am so sorry #I am so sleepy and tired but I wanted to get this done #canon x reader

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year

Text

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 5

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4,]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist (let me know if you wish to be added): @captainchrisstan, @rebleforkicks

The sheet ladder that you had been working on was now reaching quite a decent length. You had pushed open the window to your room so that you could more easily gauge the distance. This kingdom was strangely built and you were concerned that you were going to end up getting lost before you found your way out of here but you told yourself to focus on one aspect at a time. Your main focus was escaping this room. You hadn’t thought you had any chance in the cells but here there was a definite opportunity.

Your thoughts kept straying to your father, hoping he had been safely taken to the edge of the forest. He would find his way home from there but from the look of him when you’d seen him, he would need a healer. What had they done to him? What kind of monster didn’t help a man in clear need of aid? He’d looked ill and uncared for. Surely even if you had prisoners, there was a standard to which you must care for them? Your heart was filled with more anger as you thought of that wretched elf king.

The sudden sound of knocking at the door caused you to freeze in place and you turned hesitantly away from your task.

Legolas stood on the other side of the door. He’d lifted his hand to knock, not wanting to just stride into the room and make you feel uncomfortable. You were most likely uncomfortable enough and he still felt bad for having scared you before. He was too gentle and kind a soul for that and he would probably feel bad about it for a good many days yet. “My Lady?” He ventured, unable to see the way your eyes narrowed at the way he addressed you. You didn’t speak. He knew you were in there, there was no way you could have gotten past the guards, and he had heard the shuffling from inside the room before he had knocked. You must still be scared.

“Are you hungry?” Legolas continued, pausing briefly to see if you would grace him with a response. None came. “I offer an invitation to dine... would you not like a different view for a while?” Legolas knew that this was probably just going to get him in some sort of trouble and he couldn’t really say that right now he had much of a reason for this other than feeling bad. But sometimes he thought that was a good enough reason on its own.

There was no other response as you stared at the door. If you didn’t agree would he have it opened and drag you out regardless? Why was the prince inviting you personally to dine? You were a prisoner, were you not?

“Please, I mean you no--”

“You will join us for dinner.” A new voice interrupted the sentence Legolas had started. Everybody (Legolas, Tauriel, and the guards) turned to see the King taking slow, deliberate steps towards the end of the hall where your room was located.

You recognised the smooth baritone of the voice immediately and your blood ran cold.

“That is not a request.” Thranduil continued, staring at his son with venom. He just could not understand what Legolas was doing or thinking but he had to admit that part of him, small as that part may be, was beginning to get curious. Curious enough to go along with his son and see how this would play out. Besides, maybe if you joined them for a meal, he would be able to give you some more rules about your new place here. Maybe he could assign you some lowly job so you were not just sitting around taking up space and resources... since Legolas was so insistent on you not being locked up in a cell for whatever insane reason.

Anger flickered in your veins at the words and you frowned at the still closed door. “You have taken me as your prisoner.” You spat. “And now you want me to have dinner with you? Are you completely mad?!”

Thranduil’s composure slipped slightly, shocked at not only your ungrateful tone but your words. Surely you had the good sense to show more respect and common courtesy. He was the King of this realm, after all, and you had been afforded more than you should have considering the situation. Yes, perhaps his son was mainly the one to thank but nothing could happen without his approval. Were you so foolish to believe you could speak to him in this way?

“You have been afforded your own room, a comfortable bed.” He stated, voice low, tone slightly dangerous. “One would think that you would be a little more grateful.”

Grateful?! You could hardly believe your ears. How arrogant! “I would starve before I ate with you!” Came your reply, tone conveying your bitterness towards him.

“Very well!” The words were hissed through the door, the sound of a palm smacking hard against the wood causing you to jump out of your skin.

Thranduil had lashed out and hit the door in his frustration at your disrespect. “Be my guest!” He snapped. “Starve.” Thranduil turned from the door, looking down at the others in the corridor. Anger flashed in his eyes and not even Legolas thought to continue to push this situation at present. “If she does not eat with us, then she does not eat at all.” He said loud enough for you to be able to hear him on the other side of the door and then he turned on his heel, disappearing round the corner.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x yn #thranduil fanfic #lotr fanfic #hobbit fanfic #beauty and the beast

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crystal-overdrive · 4 days

Text

15 questions

I was tagged by @fangbangerghoul!

1. Are you named after anyone? My first name is from a dream my Mam had where she had twin babies, a giant boy with no name and a tiny girl with my name, she went into premature labor a couple of days after that dream. My middle name is for my great grandmother.

2. When was the last time you cried? I genuinely can't remember. Not sure if that suggests I'm happy, or callous. Or both. It's probably both.

3. Do you have kids? No, and no plans to have any.

4. What sports do you play/have you played? I'm training for a 5k right now but it's not going very well...shin splints...kill me. I used to play badminton with my friends but only one of us knew the rules so we called it Yu-Gi-Oh because we were convinced he just made them up as he went. When I was a kid I did horse riding and figure skating.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Putting a sarcastic answer here would be too obvious. I do but I'm also pretty bad at reading it in others which can be awkward.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their manners, especially if it's a highly coded situation. Politeness is important to me. In more informal situations probably patterns of speech?

7. What’s your eye color? Brown, sometimes green in summer.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies 100%. Love a tragedy, love horror.

9. Any talents? I belive in hard work more than talent, but I guess I'm fairly good at putting in the work?

10. Where were you born? That's a security question, mate. No way.

11. What are your hobbies? Video games, tabletop rpgs, going to the theatre, reading. I write both professionally and as a hobby so that's kind of a strange blurred line.

12. Do you have any pets? The beautiful Miss Loonie.

13. How tall are you? Fucking tiny. Five foot. That's it.

14. Favourite subject in school? In high school? Drama. In university? My favourite post-grad class has probably been worldbuilding which focused on writing for science-fiction, fantasy and horror.

15. Dream job? I was having an interesting conversation about this the other day. I don't have a dream job anymore, no allusions to a title or a place on the ladder. I just want to make lots of cool stuff, and get it out in front of an audience. I want to work in a bunch of different forms and try things out. So I guess the dream job is being a prolific enough writer that people will give me the chance to take on that sort of portfolio career? I tag @doxieandthedead, @nyda-the-tav, @brave-little-avocado-toaster if yous are up for it!

#shouting into the void #tag game

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dendro-bunny · 12 days

Text

Deepspace 1.5

Rafayel x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: after the cold shouldering you gave your boyfriend, you and Rafayel spend a heated evening together.

Genre: SMUT, flufffy fluffy fluff,

Warning: EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD. ORAL (m. And f. Receiving),GOOFY SEX TO SERIOUS SEX (sex isn’t just transactional love your partner!)

(A/N): god I hope I write this well 😭 I’m not a smut writer, but I want to try cause I love this (STUPID) game. And I’m hoping if I write about Rafayel I’ll get his birthday card 😃 <- me being delulu (spoilers I did not get the card)

Hey if you are under the age of 18! DO NOT INTERACT! NSFW AHEAD! GO HOME! WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS!

Deepspace parts: 1 , 1.5 , 2 , 2.5 , 3 , 3.5

====================================== ======================================

His muse finally in his arms. How couldn’t he be happy. In fact he couldn’t be happier. His strength replenished, his mind at ease, and his heart mended. Rafayel’s hands dance across the canvas. The broken glass from the vase he knocked down being used as a way to reflect light onto the canvas hovering above certain colors to give a brighter feel to them.

“Let me guess you’re gonna call this piece ‘shattered’?” You quip mocking his voice from the couch as you tidy up the living space.

“Pfft, seriously you’re selling me so short. I was thinking ‘clarity’.” He looks back at you, his gaze longing. 4 days he hadn’t seen you, 4 days he neglected himself cause he didn’t feel himself without you. He watches you ponder the name and step closer to the canvas to get a better angle.

“Yeah… that makes sense. I like it! It’ll look wonderful in the center of the gala!” You beam at him. The distance between you two is rather long for him. He knows it’s a conversation to have. But right now he just wants to be close to you.

“Speaking of that gala is a silly cutie like you taking your handsome, charming boyfriend?” He beckons you closer to him.

“You’re already going! You have to present your artistry.” You roll your eyes at his pout. “And since when did you like going to events?”

He ponders for a moment. “When they involve you.” The sky smile he gives makes your face warm up.

“Y-yeah whatever… I wouldn’t dream of going without you anyway… unless you don’t, you know, want to…” you trail off giving a half smirk. You hint at the situation you just found yourself out of.

“I want to. No way in hell would I want to be away from you right now.” He hops down from the ladder and presses your hands to his lips. “I… I know I get really frustrated at times, but I love you being near me and I love being near you. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying. If anything it’s my job to annoy you.” He leans his forehead against yours. His thumbs gently graze the back of your hands as he continues to kiss them.

His kisses make you melt. They are soft and warm. And you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face as he does so. “I love you Rafayel.” The words come out barely above a whisper.

“I love you more (Y/N).” His eyes dart down towards your lips then back up to your eyes looking for permission. You give a soft smile and place your lips softly on his.

You feel his whole body relax as your lips move against one another. Soft whines and groans slip from his mouth into yours. His arms wrap tightly around your waist moving only slightly caressing your curves and dips. His hands rest finally on your hips as you pull apart. Both of you pant hot breathes in the small space you left between each other.

“Raf’ I want you… I want to be close to you in a normal sense and… that… way.” You batt your pretty eyelashes at him and he groans. His face finds purchas in your neck. He lays soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.

“Do you know what you do to me? You’re the only person that makes me feel so much with so little effort.” You feel him smile against your neck as he says this. Knowing he doesn’t mind the fact you make him go crazy.

You gasp as you feel him hoist you up. Your legs lock around his waist as he continues to kiss your neck and jawline. “Are you sure you want this?” He stops just before the bed. He softly plants you on the edge waiting for your answer. The look in his eyes makes you shiver. It’s sensual and restricted, like he’s trying his hardest to hold back.

“Raf… please. I need you in me.” In a moment he pounces on you.

His once soft kisses turn feverish and desperate. Needy and eager. His tongue gazes your bottom lip asking for entrance. You give him access to explore the depths of your mouth. Your tongues intertwine and dance with each other. Your lungs begin to burn, you pull away to breathe. He gives you a pout with swollen lips.

Catching your breath you give him a small chuckle. It only makes him pout further.

“And why are you just laughing and not kissing me.” His arms wrap more around you.

“You’re just so cute. I can’t help it! Plus I was thinking about earlier, you have so many pictures of me!” His face takes a deeper hue of red. He looks away bashfully.

“I missed you… a lot… and I wanted to see your face so I started drawing you from memory.” His nose nudges your jaw and neck as he breathes you in.

“I missed everything about you, your laugh, smile, eyes, nose, even your eye rolls!” He chuckles as he kisses lower down your collar bone. The roaming hands grabbing as much of your body as he can hover over the helm of your shirt.

“Can I take it off you? Can I unwrap you like a candy bar?” You laugh at his words.

“Candy bar?!” He starts laughing too.

“Yeah! Cause you’re the sweetest treat I could ever have… I bet you even taste like candy down here.” One of his hands trace your thighs, your whimper out a laugh. “Unwrap me Raf, as long as I can unwrap you.” You rub your hands against his chest and abs. Pushing his shirt up slightly to feel his bare skin underneath.

He tilts his head back with a smile enjoying your hands. “Yeah… yeah, let’s do that.” He feels his mind already getting hazy and clouded with thoughts of you unraveling for him, because of him. He quickly discards your shirt kissing you further down your body. Only stopping to let you pull his shirt off. The next to go is your bra, he quickly unclasp it and tosses it towards the nightstand.

You gasp as his hand gravitate towards your chest. Kneading and massaging your chest. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your stomach, and right above your hips. You whine, it sound like heaven beneath him. A symphony of sirens luring him in. He needs to hear more, he wants to hear more, he has to hear more. He presses open mouth kisses around your panty line looking up at you through his lashes.

Your head is tilted back, the veins on your neck are on show. You can’t look at him. If you do you might just break. “Baby~ look at me. I wanna see your face.” He mutters into your tummy.

“I want you to watch as I devour your cunt.” You feel him smile as he nibbles on your hips.

“I- I can’t.” You whine.

“You can. You will. Look at me.” He stops his menstruations and leans over you. “Please baby look at me.” Hot breaths huff into your neck.

You look at him. Elegant is the only word you could use to describe him. His moles contrast beautifully against the reddish color of his cheeks and nose. His lips partly parted and swollen, glistening with spit. He smiles as you stare at his face. You’re equally disheveled. It makes him giggle, “you’re a mess pretty girl.”

“You should see yourself… are you gonna keep staring at me or are you going to eat me out? I’m drying up by the second here.” That’s a lie. With the way his hands rub over your thighs and abdomen there’s no way you’d calm down.

“Oh?!” He challenges. When you don’t back down he falls to his knees and comes face first with your soaked center. Your panties are damped and sticking to your lips. “Mmm this down here doesn’t look dry baby~ this looks like you’re excited to be fucked by me.” You moan softly as he runs his thumb over your panties. The feeling isn’t enough. You need more. So much more.

“Raf… Ngh!” You jolt as he licks a strip over your pussy. Your moans get louder as he keeps lapping at your cunt. He does that a few more times before sliding your underwear off and tossing them somewhere in the room. He growls softly at the sight of your slick running down your lips. Before you can say anything else he dives in. His tongue circling your bundle of nerves, sucking and nibbling slightly.

You cover your mouth to stop yourself from being too loud. He sees this and glares at you, but he doesn’t stop devouring your cunt. Instead he start eating you out with more vigor. Wanting you to be loud for him. He gets so into it he starts lifting your hips off the bed making you fall backwards. He places both your thighs on his shoulders. Your hands fly to his hair and the sheet below you as you cry out in pleasure and shock.

“Raf! S-slow down I- I’m gonna-!” You can barely get the words out. He doesn’t stop his nose now rubbing against your clit. The stimulation gets too much the tight coil in your gut snaps and you gush against his tongue.

You scream as you arch you back off the bed. The heels of your feet dig into his shoulders. As you start coming down from your high you realize he hasn’t stopped, instead his tongue pokes and prods at your entrance. Then it fully dives deep into your sopping wet hole. Exploring and tracing your walls. Whining at the overstimulation you push his head away.

“I already came- please!” Your body jerks and spasms at his antics. He looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. The little shit.

“I still have to stretch you out babes, I don’t want you crying about how too big my dick is.” He taunts you with a fake pout that turns into a cunning smile. You moan softly at the thought of him stretching you out.

You feel him slowly scoop up your essence with his middle finger. Then slide it right into your sopping cunt. The way your back arches and your mouth hangs open has him dizzy. His pants are tight, he really needs to stop wearing skinny jeans cause they are really suffocating his cock right now. He looks up at you and he feels your feet push the hem of his pants.

“What? Into feet play now?” He laughs at your snort as you shake your head.

“Take them off, I can’t feel you like this.” You smile like the sun rays glistening over the sea.

“Babe, I’m pretty sure you can feel me like this.” He pumps his finger harsher, it makes your eyes roll back.

“No, I wanna feel your dick. Pleaseee.” You whine and wriggle on his fingers.

“Fuck it.” His patience was already low from the start. It’s not fair how you have him in such a chokehold. As your lemurian for centuries he’s always obeyed you. Even if he wasted there is no way he could ever say no. You were his as he was yours.

The moment his pants and boxers come off he lets out a groan of relief. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock hitting his lower abdomen. Your eyes follow the v-line of his hips, down the prominent vein along his shaft, to the blushing leaky tip his thumb caresses.

“You’re not fair.” You pout. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I can’t help I’m sculpted by the gods sweetheart. I was made just for you.” It’s your turn to roll you eyes as he gives you a wink.

“Yeah sure Mr. Crafted by the gods, come here already.” You hold your arms up waiting for him to come into them.

He wastes no time spreading your legs and sliding between them. You can feel him panting against your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. His lips begin to hurt from hard he has to bite them to stop himself from losing it.

He’s focusing so hard he doesn’t hear the sheets rip under his nails. The sound just turns you on further. You coax him to go further by wrapping your legs around his torso, applying minimal pressure to get him to push in further with his cock.

You feel full just from half of him inside you. His cock was the perfect amount of girth and length to get you to see stars without him even thrusting. The slight slant downward of his shaft made the slightest of movements impossible to miss. You hate him and his perfection.

You hate the way his lashes flutter as he starts a sloppy rhythm. You can’t help but to hate the way he holds your hands while you get used to him moving. You hate the way his volume gets louder than yours. Which is pretty loud as you haven’t stopped moaning his name. His rhythm evens out enough for him to bend down and kiss you. He kisses you with so much emotion it makes your mind blank.

“Hah… my muse… baby- shit. I love you, I’m sorry I made you feel less than, hah… fuck, loved. You… hhhh, you deserve to be spoiled, and loved.” If he wasn’t speaking directly in your ear you would have missed his words with his balls slapping against your ass as he picks up the pace.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a sloppy make out session. You do trust your voice to reply, you’re afraid you might forget your words between y’alls moans. He understands what you want to say though. He feels it in your clinging to his back and legs keeping him from pulling out fully. He sees it in your unbreaking eye contact and the way you cradle his face in your hand. He hears it in your chants of his name, and gasping moans when he grazes your sweet spot.

He knows you love him too, and he knows you know he would drain the ocean just to hear you laugh and see you smile.

“Raf- so close. I’m so close please, come with me, come with me please.” You continue to plea as your grip grow tighter by the second.

“Uh huh yeah, gonna come for me? You gonna do that sexy thing when you arch your back into me? Fuck come for me.” His fingers find you clit, he starts rubbing small circles on it pushing you over the edge.

He follows not to far behind you, your walls pulsing and clamping down on him was more than enough. He didn’t think he was gonna last as long as he did. Especially with the way your voice was going through his ears and straight to his dick.

You start to come down from your high and push his hand away that’s playing with your clit. “I’m sorry for bugging you while you were-“ Your cut off by a pair of chapped lips.

“I thought we already made it clear, it’s my fault. I was an ass that stepped way out of line. I mean how did you let me get away for yelling at a goddess like you?” He smiles at your laughter as you pull him back into a kiss.

You stay in each other’s arms enjoying each other’s presence. You won’t admit it but you think you’d never get over losing him, despite his cocky, clingy, picky, sarcastic self. You loved him more than words or actions could ever express.

Only time, which you both would transcend for each other, would.

============================================================================

JESUS I DIDNT MEAN TO WRITE SO MUCH BUT LIKE HOW DO EXPLAIN SEX?????

N E WAY… I love him 🥺. XAVIER IS NEXT! I wonder how I’m gonna hurt your feelings with him 🤔.

#bunnix writes #bunnix #fluff #love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #Smut Rafayel #rafayel smut

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