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#love the way he holds the bottles too absolute incredible form
egoarc4de · 2 years
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lab rat FORCED to distinguish between coke and pepsi
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givemea-dam-break · 1 year
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Hi!!!! Your L&C fics are my favorite thing ever, your writing is absolutely incredible, I'm a bit obsessed I think XDD
Apologies if this request is too specific, but I would die for a Lockwood x reader fic where the reader makes up their mind to do something stupidly reckless for a case, something even Mr. Reckless himself can't support, especially not when it's YOU. He begs you not to, you do it anyway, get badly injured, but he's still there to patch you up after all of it.
Have an awesome day!!!!!
a/n: my day is absolutely awesome so far, i hope yours is too!! and thank you so much, i'm so so glad you enjoy my stuff!! i hope you enjoy <3
warnings: language, injury gn reader
You knew the case was going to be a bad one from the get-go, you just didn't know how bad.
Everything had seemed fine when you and the other members of Lockwood and Co met with the clients, a pair of men who owned a nearby butcher's. A Type Two haunting the place, nothing you couldn't handle. George had even found a lot a decent information on the place that could help you guys figure out where the source was. The notion of it being in a butcher's made you uneasy, and you knew very little about the Type Two, though Lockwood was sure you'd all be fine.
But, standing in the shop, facing a ghost you can't see, you know you're fucked.
It's just your luck to be faced with a poltergeist, honestly.
Unlike other Visitors, poltergeists can't inflict ghost touch which, in the long run, is very handy. If ambulances can't get to agents on time to give them an adrenaline injection, then it can lead to loss of limbs or death. It sounds like a positive, right?
Well, staring at the carving knife floating a few feet away, you would much rather be faced with a Wraith or even a Rawbones.
The thing is, poltergeists have no physical form so it's harder to look for a source, hence George and Lucy scrambling around in the backroom, clattering about as they rush to look.
Ahead of you, the knife hovers in midair, its sharp, gleaming point slowly turning as if to decide which person to dart at: you, Lockwood, or Lucy and George. It's like a horrible version of Spin the Bottle.
"So, this lovely Visitor was the old butcher?" you say, keeping your voice light. Poltergeists feed off negative emotions even more than other Type Twos.
Lockwood nods, rapier in hand as he looks around the rest of the room, rooted in place. "That's what George says."
"What reason does it have to be haunting the place?"
"Killed by an angry employee, I think."
You hold back a grumble, forcing down your anger at stupid people from the past. If they'd known how many problems they'd cause in the future, would they still have been such idiots?
Probably.
"Watch your back then," you joke. "You have three employees. Keep us happy, will you?"
"There's only so much tea I can make."
The knife rises in the air slightly and you falter back a step as its sharp end points at you.
"I think I'm the favourite," you mutter, trying to keep your fear in check. It's not often ghosts threaten you at knifepoint. "Lockwood, you go help Lucy and George look for the source. I'll keep its attention."
"No way." He looks at you incredulously. "We're doing this together."
Palms sweating, you say, "Your rapier isn't going to do much against a ghost we can't see, and not all of us can look for the source because then none of us stands a chance."
"I'm not letting you face it on your own," Lockwood insists. "Not a chance. The thing's got a knife, and it can do much worse."
But Lucy shouts something from the backroom, drawing Lockwood's attention. Through the buzz of fear in your ears, you think she says they might've found something.
"Lockwood, go!"
"(name), I'm not just going to leave you to -"
The knife whizzes in the air, lodging itself in the wooden doorframe, awfully close to your shoulder. It's like the Visitor wants Lockwood to stay, but you aren't going to let him. He's the leader of Lockwood and Co, the face of it. The company needs him. But not you. You're expendable.
Your Talent isn't anything special, not like Lucy's, and your research skills are nowhere near the standard of George's. All you're good at is using a rapier and sweet-talking DEPRAC when cases go tits up. Lockwood can easily fill in for you.
"Lockwood," you grit out, trying to keep the frustration at a minimum. "Go."
He's about to argue, but George calls for help - whatever they've found is stuck. He doesn't move.
Before you can think about it, you rush over and shove him in the direction of the backroom, and he stumbles, falling into the door. He barely gets his footing before Lucy's dragged him through.
"(name)!" he shouts, but he doesn't appear. Thank god for Lucy.
"All right," you murmur, turning to look at the knife in the doorframe. "Just you and me, now, Polty."
Slowly, threateningly, the knife dislodges from the frame, shining in the dim lanternlight. From the far wall, a knife rack trembles on its hooks, and more come free. Your heart is in your throat. Maybe you'll end up like a ghost you've defeated before, an old man who'd been jumped and stabbed endlessly.
Hopefully, you'll be an easy ghost to get rid of.
The carving knife comes flying at you, and you barely deflect it with the thin blade of your rapier. Another knife darts across the room, and you duck out of the way, though it nicks your ear. You can feel the little dribble of blood sliding down the skin already.
"Do you guys mind hurrying up a bit?" you call, eyeing the large collection of knives hovering. "Not to rush you or anything, but, you know, I'm not the biggest fan of being threatened by knives."
"Almost there!" Lucy shouts. "George got his arm stuck trying to get the source out. We're trying to get him unstuck."
Swallowing, you say lightly, "Yeah, sounds fun. Maybe speed it up a little."
You can hear a little arguing, likely Lockwood trying to come back out to help but getting told off by Lucy. You almost smile. Almost.
This time, the small knife that launches at you catches your shoulder and you resist crying out in pain. If you do, Lockwood will definitely come running out, and you can't afford that. They need to get the source.
Blood oozes down your arm, staining your jumper. Your grasp on your rapier weakens, and you swap the blade into your other hand, although this hand is considerably worse with it.
"It's rude to stab people," you grumble.
The next knife is deflected clumsily from your face, half from the inability of using your other hand and half from the pain in your shoulder. You'd pull the knife out, but you know it'll make things worse. At least it hasn't hit anything vital.
You can feel the presence of the poltergeist, thick and hanging over the whole room like a blanket. It isn't the most powerful one, not like the ones you've heard Fittes agents dealing with, because, even though its presence is everywhere, its focus is dealt solely on you. If it were stronger, it'd be targeting the others, too.
"Go on then, give me your worst."
Another knife, another dodge. It feels like it goes on forever, on and on and on with the same knives over again. The blood from your shoulder has reached your hand now and, god, how you wish you could throw a salt bomb at this thing. Your fingers itch to hold one.
"Hurry up!"
Mistake. You regret speaking immediately, having let out a little too much frustration, and the poltergeist feeds on it. The knives tremble in the air, every point staring menacingly at you, and the one hanging in your shoulder tears out, bringing with it another gush of blood. You can't help the cry that escapes your lips this time.
"Get the silver net, hurry!" Lucy's voice shouts.
The world moves in slow motion. As the knives fly in your direction, gleaming, one covered in blood, your heart feels like it ceases all functions. This is where you die. You'll never be able to dodge all of them in time.
Then the first blade sinks into your shoulder, just inches below the first puncture, and you shut your eyes.
You'll miss Portland Row and your friends. Maybe you didn't cherish their antics enough - the way George sings in the shower in the mornings, waking you up, or how Lucy will blast music at full volume while hacking away at the dummies in the basement for rapier practice. Most of all, you'll miss Lockwood. His smile, the way his eyes sparkle when he realises you've bought him a new magazine from the shop, the feeling of his fingers brushing yours as he passes you a mug of tea after every case.
There isn't much you regret, but you regret not telling him how you feel about him. About the nights you spend thinking about him, wishing for something more between you both.
Metal slams to the ground. The heavy pressure sitting on your shoulders dissipates, and silence ensues.
Slowly opening your eyes, you startle, seeing a dozen knives scattered on the floor right in front of your feet. Droplets of blood drip from your fingers, forming a little puddle on the floor. You're breathing heavily, much more than you should be, and your body is trembling.
The others stumble into the room, eyeing the blades that have fallen before you. Lockwood is the first to notice the blood soaking the sleeve of your jumper.
He practically leaps over the counter to get to you. "Lucy, George, go get rid of the source and get us a night cab. Quick."
Wordlessly, the two sprint from the shop and into the night.
"You're okay," Lockwood says.
You almost believe him, falling for the assured tone of his voice, but you feel a little woozy. Knees buckling, you drop to the floor, but he catches you with gentle hands, slowly lowering you down so you can sit after kicking the knives away.
"You're okay," he says again, though it sounds like it's more for himself than for you.
"I'm fine," you say, smiling albeit weakly. "Polty didn't stand a chance."
"Polty?" Lockwood parts from your side, grasping his bag from the corner and digging in it for a first aid kit. "You named the ghost?"
Nodding, you lean your head back against the wall. "He was my best mate."
There's a small laugh. "I don't think Lucy will appreciate that sentiment."
He's beside you again before you can even really process it, gingerly touching the ripped hole in your jumper. There's a lot more blood there than you initially realised.
"Do you think you can get your jumper off?" Lockwood asks. "I need to see the cuts."
Normally, you would've made a comment at that, but your throat feels awfully dry. "Take the knife out first?"
He goes pale, eyeing the - thankfully - small knife stuck in your arm.
"This will hurt. Hold onto my arm."
And you do. You weakly wrap your hand around his forearm, bracing yourself for the pain. He begins to count down from three, but he yanks the knife out on one, and you shout in pain, squeezing his arm.
"You pulled it early!"
"You would've made it harder to get out if I'd counted down the whole way." He looks a little bad for doing it, but you can understand why he did it. "Jumper?"
With his help, you manage to pull the thing off, hissing as you move your injured shoulder. Your T-shirt is stained at the sleeve, too, and partially at the neckline. It stings to pull it from the wound, but, soon enough, the cuts are visible. They're neat little things, nothing more than small slits in your skin, but they go deep. Lockwood will only be able to do so much.
With shaking hands, Lockwood pulls some things out of the first aid kit. You're too sore to really notice.
"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"
His voice shocks you out of the daze you were slipping into. "Hmm?"
"You shouldn't have done that alone. Look what's happened."
As he brings an alcohol wipe to the gashes, you wince at the sharp sting and the pressure he applies but say, "And what should I have done? Let you be the one to do it alone? We both know that you wouldn't have let me help, Lockwood. And you're more important in the grand scheme of things. I think I would've made quite the sacrifice if it had come to it."
"Don't say that." His voice wavers slightly, so quietly you barely hear it. "You're important to me."
He applies more pressure to the wounds, then he places wound dressings over them before grabbing a water bottle from his bag and soaking a tissue. Gently, he takes your arm in his hand and cleans away the slowly drying blood. It's messy work - the tissue keeps flaking apart, but it does the job and, soon enough, your arm is only faintly stained with your blood. He cleans the little bit of blood away from your ear quickly, placing a little plaster over the cut.
"I wasn't going to let you do it," you say, gratefully swallowing the painkillers he hands you. "You would've killed yourself to save us."
"And you didn't just try practically the same thing?"
There's an undertone of anger in his voice, but it's weak, taken over almost completely by his concern.
"(name) -" He hesitates, looking away from you. His ears are tinted slightly red. "You can't just be reckless like that. Not when..."
His fingers brush yours as you say, "When what?"
You can feel the tremble in his fingers. Although you're the one with stab wounds that still need medical attention, you worry. His smile, that cocky grin you've grown so fond of, is nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by parted lips and heavy breathing. The pulse you can feel in his fingers is erratic.
"Not when you mean so much to me. I can't lose you."
The words take you aback. For a moment, you're acutely aware of his skin touching yours, of the sound of his breaths, and the way the light accentuates the features on his face. His cheekbones look sharper, and his eyes glimmer, darkness set alight with little stars.
He mistakes your shocked silence for rejection. "A night cab should be here soon, then we can get you to a hospital and -"
His words falter when your good hand touches his cheek. Slowly, his gaze turns to your outstretched arm, gradually making its way up the limb until he's looking at you - your eyes, your lips. This is the most nervous you've seen him, and it makes you feel a little triumphant. Not many people make Anthony Lockwood nervous.
"I'm okay," you promise. "You've patched me up, and we're going to get me taken care of, yeah? But, first..."
"But first?" His eyebrow quirks, and he watches you closely.
It's something you never would do in normal circumstances. Really, you're probably not in the right state of mind, but you've wanted to do this for months. And Lockwood doesn't stop you.
When your lips touch his, you feel a sense of completeness. Like your soul has been made whole. It's as if they're the missing piece to a puzzle you've been trying to finish all your life, finally found after years and years of searching.
One of Lockwood's hands holds the back of your neck, his touch gentle, giving you enough leeway to pull away if you so wish. But you don't. You won't. No, instead your clutch his shirt with your good hand, holding him close. You never want this to end, this feeling of finally being whole. Your heart is racing, and it feels as though your very being is going to implode from pure elation.
Carefully, reluctantly, he pulls away, but his face stays close. His eyes search yours for any glimpse of regret, but he finds none, and he grins, at last. The smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself smiling, too, despite your pain.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting for that," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You can feel his breath on your lips. "I might have an idea."
And then he's kissing you again, snatching your breath away.
Silently, you're thanking the poltergeist for the wounds, a thought that almost makes you laugh.
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As disturbing as Claw’s attraction to Gizmo is, I can almost- almost see why she chose him as a potential mate. It’s not like she had a lot of good options. Snout and Noggin are brothers and every other male (those that are male- as Noggin did refer to the clan as ‘brothers and sisters’) seem to be more single minded than her.
Now, if she managed to somehow survive to the 80’s and met Stripe and/or Mohawk, and assuming they are separate characters and not her reincarnations, I’d say they’d make good mate candidates. Stripe, while not linguistically advanced like Noggin or Brain, he’s still fairly intelligent. Probably on par with Claw herself. Mohawk on the other hand, is incredibly strong, being able to K.O an adult man with one punch. Claw can hold her own in battle too…I.g, taking on the fox spirits.
Or she’s just attracted to brave little mogwai…like Gizmo…who just so happens to be her dad-brother😅
Though to be fair…incest isn’t all that uncommon among animals or in all forms of mythology, so…I guess that’s where the creators were going with it.😅
Yeah I can see why she likes Gizmo compared to all the other gremlins too! They seem to have annoyed her throughout the show (like the one who said "I love you" with the skull that she promptly slapped away, or the one who accidentally hit her with a bottle top in the club scene) so Gizmo not only being super cute but also very brave might have been appealing to her compared to the rest.
Now, as much as I like the idea of her being a reincarnation of Stripe and/or Mohawk, I absolutely LOVE the idea of her meeting either of them in the future and being a separate gremlin, I think she'd love them. He's just as evil as the rest, but Stripe is way more reserved and cunning than the others, just like Claw. And then Mohawk being super strong would probably appeal to her as well, and after Gizmo rejecting her she probably wouldn't mind Mohawk beating him up like he does in the 2nd movie😅
The form of mythology I'm most familiar with is Greek mythology and yes they've got a LOT of incest happening there, and I know Chinese has a bit of it too so not too far fetched considering Claw and Gizmo are mythical creatures 😅But I do have somewhat of a weird theory that might make their relationship not so weird:
So gremlins and mogwai seem to reproduce asexually or at least that's the closest comparison you could make with the whole "multiplying in water" thing. The drawback to this method of reproduction though is that there's no genetic diversity in the offspring. So maybe to combat this, every now and then a gremlin is spawned that isn't related to any of the others so that they can mate with another one of their kind and have offspring that are genetically different, thereby ensuring their species can adapt better in the future. It doesn't make a lot of sense in the real world since that's not a thing that can actually happen, but since mogwai and gremlins are magical creatures and it's a fantasy show, I'd say anything goes when magic is involved. So maybe Claw is one of these gremlins that isn't directly related to the others. The only thing I don't like about this theory is that it would mean Claw isn't a sister to Snout, Noggin, and Gaptooth and I really like them being siblings to each other, so maybe not 😒
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kielboysa · 1 year
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RODEO CLOWN AU
A ridiculous thread that’s mostly a joke but please heed the warnings CW: Beastiality, like full beastiality not furry or werewolf like man/bull lovemaking
Kiri is an orphan that ends up adopted by professional rodeo clown Fatgum and lives at All Might’s rodeo arena. Since he was 2 he’s been trying to imitate daddy Fat’s routine with dogs or geese, getting them to chase him around and making everyone around him laugh.
He thinks that Daddy Fat has the coolest job in the world and starts doing shows with him when he’s just 4 (granted he’s never in the arena the same time as the bull) He helps Fat get the crowd warmed up and even shows a talent for riding some of their bigger calves.
Everyone adores him, staff and audience included. When he’s 10, Fatgum is trying to distract a bull from a fallen rider and ends up getting pinned against the wall. Little Ei jumps into the ring, despite several cowboys trying to grab him, and gets the bull to chase him while Fat recovers.
He’s a natural at it, the audience cheers and laughs as this little kid outwits a 2000lb bull. From then on he’s a regular part of the show. He’s always had a ‘special’ relationship with the animals. Fat always finds him sneaking off to the barn in the middle of the night to groom and pet the horses.Fat nearly has a heart attack when he finds little Kiri in the pen of one of their bulls, but the animal is wholly content, letting kiri curl up by its side while it rests after a long day.
When kiri is around 13, they get an albino baby calf that was rejected by it’s mother. Kiri falls in love with it and feeds it every day. Names it Katsuki. Victory.Even as a calf the little thing is feisty, headbutting kiri when he gets to close, nipping at his fingers, and being incredibly stubborn whenever anyone tries to move it anywhere. Despite all that though, Kiri forms a special attachment to it. Maybe a little too special.
After being abandoned, the calf has to be bottle fed every day. Kiri adores the eager noises he makes, pushing up against the bottle to try and get as much as the milk as he can. Even after he finishes the bottle, sometimes he will suckle on Kiri’s fingers.
It’s a weirdnice feeling that makes him curious.It’s on his 14th birthday that he first puts his dick in Katsuki’s mouth. As expected, the baby sucks on it Hard. Making those cute little noises Kiri loves so much. He holds the calf by the head, scratching under his ears in the way he knows the he likes.
Kiri cums quick, and Katsuki drinks it up greedily. From them on, Katsuki often starts sniffing at his crotch when he’s hungry. Even months after he’s been weaned off milk he still suckles kiri like he’s starving.When he’s about a year old, Kiri decides he needs to return the favor. Sneaks into the barn just like he usually does, but this time he’s got a surprise for his favorite big little bull boy. Katsuki says good evening with his usual “hmph!”, already lying down on his side to try to sleep.
Kiri snuggles up with him but reaches down and starts stroking him by the sheath, feeling the outline of his dick from the inside.He huffs like he’s mad he’s been woken up, but kicks out his leg a little to give him more room. Doesnt take long for the head to start and peek out. Kiri starts running his hand up and down the shaft as more pushes out.Kiri has seen bull dicks before, but never up this close. It seems to go on forever, right when he thinks it’s done extending, theres more to come. He starts having doubts about if he can take it, but dammit he’s determined.
Besides, what’s more manly than blowing an actual bull? Nothin. Katsuki’s dick is as long as his arm, not just his forearm, his entire fucking arm. Shoulder to fingertip. Kiri hunches down so he can get his lips on the head and sucks it the same way Katsuki does to him.A satisfied grunt and a twitch of his ear tells him he’s doing something right, so he keeps going. It’s absolutely impossible to take the whole thing, Katsuki would rupture his esophagus, but he can go down pretty far if he relaxes his throat.He’s glad he did this with Katsuki lying on his side because if he were standing, he’d no doubt be trying to thrust further down Kiri’s throat. Like this, he only does little impatient juts of his hips.
He’s got about a third of him down his throat when Katsuki cums. Pretty good for a first time.He drinks it up the same way Katsuki would drink from him, and when he pulls off it’s with a happy sigh.He pats the bulls shoulder and gets up but Katsuki makes this annoyed sort of grunt when he starts to open the pen’s gate. Like he’s saying “just where do you think you’re going?”Katsuki stands up on powerful legs and struts over to him, holding his head up high and showing off his horns. They’ve grown in quite nicely over the past year.Kiri raises an eyebrow at him and he /swears/ he sees Katsuki’s eyes roll up before he starts nosing at the crotch of his pants, snuffing at his hard on. Kiri smiles and unbuttons his blue jeans. What an attentive lover!
The first time they perform together Katsuki is 3. He’s been kept on a strict diet to maintain his strength and stamina. Kiri can confirm this. He’s smaller than the other bulls but damn if he ain’t spunky. Kiri watched him train with a dummy weight and 2 out of 3 times he got it off in under 5 seconds. A rider needs to stay on for 8 to win. He’s got great potential, not to mention his albino coat and red eyes give him an iconic look that makes him stand out. If they could just better train him to go back /into/ the pen once they let him out.
His first rider is a girl from some small town out of state, a rookie just like Katsuki. No one expects much from her but she stays on him longer than anyone would have guessed, even if it’s just 5 seconds. She hits the ground hard however, and the audience gets tense all of a sudden. Katsuki runs around a bit before spotting her. She’s having trouble getting up, landed awkwardly on her side. Before Katsuki can get any closer, Kiri whistles and gets his attention.
The bull’s interest is pulled away in an instant once he sees his favorite clown, and starts rushing at Kiri just for the other to do a leap over him. Katsuki turns on his heel and starts running at him again. He’s led over to a large barrel in the middle of the arena. He slams his horns into it but the barrel doesn’t tip. Instead, Fatgum peeks his head out of the top and and yawns, like he’s been taking a nap in there and a bull had rudely disturbed him.The audience roars with laughter as the rider gets to safety. Kiri does a few more tricks before they finally get Katsuki back into his pen.
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matchablossomwrites · 3 years
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Hi, I really like your writing!! Can I request Mikey and Izana (u can add more if u want to) react to them hitting their s/o during an argument and how would they apologize ? Angst with comfort, also gn!reader pls (im craving for angst and fluff rn :DD) U don’t need to if u don’t want to write it ofc :)) I respect ure decision ^^ thanks for ure time ❤️
Hey hey hey! Thank you so much for this request! I had a ton of fun writing it ^^ I hope it's up to par with your expectations. I'm so sorry it took this long. I've had an incredibly busy week with my new job and college, but I did my best! I hope you have a wonderful day/night.
Sano 'Mikey' Manjiro
"y/n I don't want to see you right now. Just leave before you regret staying here any longer" he warned "Leave" The air grew more and more icy with each word that came out of his mouth.
You just wanted to check up on him. He'd been so distant lately and this is how he thanks you? You were so worried. Anger boiled up inside of you as you stared at the man in front of you.
His expression was blank. He was going to snap soon. patience was wearing thin for both parties. He didn't exactly have a good day. Things went terribly wrong today and Baji Keisuke had died a few months prior and he was cycling through the stages of grief. The last thing he needed was for you to show up out of the blue like this and confront him now
But it's not like you knew this. You knew Baji had died and you were still easing through grief yourself. God you missed him, but you were coming to terms with the fact that there was no way to turn back time and save him. Mikey was still coping with this. They were best friends. of course this was something that would affect him way more than it would affect you.
"Huh? Are you really telling me this? Mikey I've been so worried about you and this is the thanks I get? I came here to check up on you and even took the day off to spend it with you. I could've been spending my time in so many other ways but I came to check up on you because I care about you!" you yelled you were angry to the point of yelling. Things were getting more and more tense.
Anger boiled inside of him. it was becoming unbearable. "And guess what? I don't care. I don't care that you took all this time off for me. Absolutely no one asked you to be a tragic hero and try to fix me. I don't need fixing. So, I'll say this one more time because apparently you don't know how to take a hint. Go. away." he hissed as his smile turned into a frown.
"Baji wouldn't have wanted you to push us away, you know. He would have-" you began.
However you weren't able to finish your sentence as you felt a stinging sensation on your cheek.
"Shut up! You don't know what he would've wanted! I don't know! You don't fucking know either! Ok?" he hissed as he narrowed his eyes at you. "You don't understand now and you'll never understand! So don't tell me that he wouldn't want me to act like this or whatever! Got it! Because you will never FUCKING know." he growled as he went to point at you.
Suddenly, he was brought back to reality by the sound of you whimpering as you covered your head, attempting to protect yourself. You were too afraid to say anything else to further upset him. You tried so hard not to cry, but with the stinging paired with fear tears cascaded down your face as you attempted to protect yourself from him. "Please don't hurt me.. I'm sorry" you apologized
"Oh god..." he trembled. "oh god, oh god, oh god. what have I done? y/n I'm so sorry." Mikey's eyes widened as he looked at your shaking form in front of him. He attempted to reach out and hold you, however his sudden movement scared you, causing you to flinch.
It was then that he realized the damage he'd done. Guilt hit him like a semi truck. "baby please don't cry. I'm so sorry I let this happen. I never meant to hurt you." he choked out, voice wavering. At that moment all of his emotions that he had been bottling up came pouring out like a waterfall. all the anger, despair, loneliness, and guilt finally made themselves known.
Seeing him break down in front of you made you realize how much he was truly hurting. "P-Please don't go. I'm so sorry." he whimpered. "I never meant for you to see me like that. I'm a monster god I'm so sorry." he apologized. The more you saw him break down the more you realized how bad he truly felt about this.
So, you resigned even though alarm bells were still softly blaring in your head and allowed yourself to be embraced by him. "Don't leave me... please" he whimpered. At this point you both were crying, though neither of you cared that your jackets were getting wet. you weren't sure what to say.
So, you decided not to say anything and let him calm down as you attempted to calm down yourself. Once you both calmed down, Mikey pulled away to look you in the eyes. "Please don't go... I can't lose you too" he begged as he held your face in his hands. He was trembling, absolutely terrified of what he'd done to you. You were his lifeline. He needed you. "I've got you. I promise I'm not going anywhere. I care about you, Mikey, and it hurts to see you like this." you sighed as you gazed at him with a soft expression.
It was then Mikey broke down again. though not for the same reason. It was because he was so grateful he had someone like you by his side. Someone so forgiving and compassionate. "I love you" he whimpered. "Thank you"
"I love you too"
Izana Kurokawa
Things weren't always like this. You were sure of it. But lately your nights were filled with screaming and harsh words. Despite this it was never anything too bad. Either he'd apologize with a bouquet of red tulips, white orchids, and purple hyacinths or a teddy bear and chocolates
But this... this was too far.
You don't really remember how it happened if you were honest. One moment you were having a peaceful conversation. However the moment you brought up Mikey since you'd recently met him at your school.
That's when the mood got sour. He'd said a few things and you retorted with your own set of phrases. Soon the fight grew personal. things were going too far. Both of you were saying things you really didn't mean, but since you both were in the heat of the moment there was no longer a filter stopping you from saying those harsh words and phrases.
Things peaked when he harshly shoved you against the wall in a fit of rage. You were terrified of him, but you didn't dare let him know that. you tried to shove him away but he slapped you. That's when you have had enough. You packed your things, not saying a word to him. Then, when he was asleep you quietly made your escape.
When he woke up however he was shocked and scared. He looked around the shared apartment. there were no signs of you anywhere. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to figure out his next steps, but his thoughts were preventing him from doing so.
Has he finally done it? Had he finally driven you away to the point of never wanting to see him again? He understood if you did. He knows that what he did wasn't right, but he still wanted to make one final attempt at reconciliation and if it failed, all he could do was accept that.
But where have you gone? He had no absolute clue, however he knew you were good friends with Kakucho, so he dialed up his best friend, praying to whatever cruel god was out there that you were at least still alive and safe.
After a few rings Kakucho picked up. In a panicked state he began explaining what he had done, though Kakucho stopped him. "they don't want to see you right now. Leave them alone." he replied, clearly feeling bad for the other party. "Are they with you?" he asked. "No" he replied. "Are you lying to me?" Izana asked. "no." he sighed. "Where do you think they would go if they had no where else to go, Izana?" Kakucho asked.
Their parents. The answer was glaringly obvious but he was so panicked it didn't even cross his mind. "But, Izana now is not the time. Please. Give it a few days. Imagine how they feel." Kakucho replied. "fine..." he sighed.
The next few days Izana spent thinking of what to say and how to apologize. The more he thought over that night, the more he realized he fucked up. As he sat at a table at a cafe that had been your first date with him, he saw you crossing the road, talking with Kokonoi and Inui who also happened to be your friends.
However the more he looked the more he realized that even though you were smiling it wasn't reaching your eyes. It then dawned how much he had truly hurt you. He then raced towards you, not caring if others were watching.
He didn't give a fuck about how crazy he looked in that moment as he sprinted towards you because he knew that if he prolonged this any longer it would only hurt you even more. "y/N!" he yelled, causing you to jolt, effectively capturing your attention as well as Inui and Kokonoi's as well.
"The hell do you want?" Kokonoi hissed as he protectively put his arm in front of you. "Can't you see they don't want to see you! You slapped them and hurt them and you have the AUDACITY to come out here and follow us!?" "Koko... it's ok. Thank you for caring about my safety" you smiled softly at the taller man while Inui glared at Izana. "Fuck this up and I promise you, you won't be allowed to be even within a continent of them" Inui growled before they walked away, allowing the two fo you your privacy.
The two of you then decided to talk it over at the cafe he'd been sitting at. As the two of you sat down, it was then you finally got a good look at him. There were bags under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and he was distraught.
"y/n I'm so sorry. You deserve so much better... It wasn't your fault to begin with. This whole mess was my fault and... and it wasn't your fault. It was never your fault. I was out of line. God you must hate me... you can't even look at me in the eyes." he mumbled as he let out a sad chuckle.
He felt his chances growing smaller and smaller with each passing minute. He was sure this was the end. The more he thought about it, the more he should've seen this coming. He was so harsh to you, spewing insult after insult at you, yet you always came back to him every time.
The silence was suffocating him. 'Just end it already' he thought to himself as he gazed up at you. 'I can't take it anymore. It hurts.' "Izana '' You spoke up finally, causing him to jolt as he slowly looked up at you. "I think I finally understand you… you’re scared.” you looked down at your lap. Just where were you going with this? He didn’t know. “You’re scared of being happy because the last time you were happy everything came crashing down like a castle of sand… That’s gotta be the reason you keep hurting me right? That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. But every single time this happens the harder it is for me to trust you. To trust that you even care about me anymore. You always tell me you love me, Izana, but I don’t know if I believe it anymore” you sighed as you began tearing up.
The more you spoke the more he realized how badly he fucked up. “I thought this was real, was this real? Or were you just using me just like everyone else? Were you using me to get happy? It’s getting difficult and I’m not sure how long I can keep doing this… especially after you won’t even allow me to meet new people” you muttered. “y/n… I’m so sorry” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I never realized you felt this way… god you should’ve told me” “You never cared enough to ask” you muttered.
Izana then got up from his seat across from you before he took you in his arms. He knew the damage he’d done was irreparable, but at least he could try to make it up to you in other ways. “I’m so sorry I made you think I never loved you. God I never meant for that to happen. You’re my home, y/n. I should’ve been more open… I shouldn’t have let my fears take over, I’m sorry. And I know ‘sorry’ isn’t what you want to hear from me right now, but I promise I still love you and I promise I’ll never let this happen again” he choked as he shook his head, truly feeling bad for what he’d done to you. “Izana… please can’t we just go back to how things were when we first fell in love?” you whispered. “I’m sorry… I don’t think that’s possible, but I promise I’ll give you the best possible future.. Just don’t leave. Please” he begged, his voice growing softer towards the end of his sentence.
“Ok… Just know that I’m going to make sure you keep your promise” you smiled, the same smile he’d fallen for when he was child. “I will. Thank you” he smiled.
“You idiot… you broke our promise” you sobbed as you knelt at his grave, holding a bouquet of red tulips and stargazer lilies close to your chest.
A/n: Thank you for your support
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tommyspeakycap · 3 years
Note
I love your work! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something about (toddler) baby Shelby having Alfie help her bake a cake for Tommy
omggggg that’s so so cute!!
A Bakers Help
The burly Camden Town ‘baker’ was nothing short of completely shocked when he heard a soft banging on his office door in the mid afternoon. His eyebrows had furrowed and he had kept his hand readily on his weapon so he was prepared in the event of an enemy being on the other side of the door. He was surprised to say the least when he tugged open the door and had to look down multiple inches to spot she who knocked on the door.
There stood a little girl. One he knew fairly well but who’s appearance outside his office was still a shock. That little girl was notorious around most of England, especially in heavily gang populated territories where the “Shelby” was a household name and everybody who knew that name knew the littlest member of the family was something akin to a jewel in Tommy Shelby’s crown. Alfie had been curious as to whether or not she was actually attached to Thomas Shelby’s hip in consideration to how much time she spent right by his side, teetering along on little legs so he knew she was safe right by his side. It wasn’t often that Tommy entrusted others to watch over his youngest sister, so it would be safe to say that Alfie was incredibly confused.
“Good morning.” The little girl greets, her lips plastered with a bright smile as she lifts a hand to wave at him. Alfie braces himself on either side of his doorway with strong hands so as to lean out of his office to look out into the ‘bakery’ to both the left and right before stepping back in. “Mhm yes it was actually. Where’s your brothers?” He asks, turning his eyes back to the girl in the doorway who fights to pull her wool coat back up from falling off her arms due to the fact it hadn’t been buttoned up. The girl shrugs, “Dunno...Can I come in?” She asks politely, “It’s very cold.”
Alfie Solomons squints his eyes and forms a crease between his brows, but even he can’t deny the chill in the winter breeze through the unheated factory and the shivering of the child, and so he steps to the side and gestures her in the door. Alfie hums, or maybe something more akin to a grumble, in thought as the five year old wanders around his office to take in the whole surroundings. ���And where are your pikey brothers then yeah?” His voice rumbles deep and gravelly the same way it always does, not missing the chance or thinking twice about dropping an insult to the Shelby men as he speaks. The youngest of the clan shrugs her little shoulders. “Dunno,” she says again, “I’m with Ada. Told her i was going out to play.”
The words most definitely do worry Alfie Solomons after the girl with Tommy Shelby’s striking blue eyes and his heart in the palm of her tiny hand finishes speaking flippantly. It occurs to him that she’s simply too young to understand both risk and consequence. She knows that Tommy Shelby dotes on her like the little princess he believes her to be. She knows he loves her, he tells her every day. However, Alfie knows the far darker side to that love. He’s heard of people brutally murdered with remains unidentifiable after coming close to her, and although Alfie has no desire to harm a child who probably doesn’t even understand what it is the rest of her family do when she’s not around, that doesn’t reassure him even in the slightest that Tommy, Arthur, Ada and John Shelby along with Polly Gray wouldn’t rip him to shreds if they knew their little princess was stood in his office for whatever reason.
“Right,” Alfie states, “Better get you home then,” He strides easily towards the door to hold it open, but the little girl simply quirks one eyebrow and remains where she stands. “It’s Tommy’s birthday soon.” She declares, looking up at the hardened London gangster as if he poses no threat nor fear to her in the slightest bit. She smiles at him, big and bright. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know if he was violent, didn’t know if he was supposed to be scary. She just knew she had met him before, he was relatively funny as the 5 year old obviously did not pick up on the thinly veiled threats hiding beneath the verbal back and forth between her favourite brother and the man she stood with now, and more importantly than anything; she knew he was a ‘baker’. “You need a cake on your birthday, you know.” She adds very matter of factly, and Alfie Solomons doesn’t fight the little grin he gives. “And you’re a baker, so you can make good cakes. I need you to help me make Tommy’s cake for birthday cake time on Saturday.”
There’s virtually no way this little girl had just come up with this by herself. The way she acts, her generosity, her sweetness and her absolute insistence of cake for her brothers birthday was not something she had adapted by herself. Children don’t just come up with these things. That thought, for Alfie, means that those who have raised her have drilled a certain kindness into her. Thomas Shelby has raised his little sister to be the kind of kid who will find a man she thinks is a baker just because her brother told her he was, so that he can help her make a cake. That makes Alfie want to laugh. Tommy Shelby acts the part, but Solomons now knows he’s the type who taught a little girl about the importance of cake and birthday fun.
“Fine.” Alfie responds, out stretching his arm to gesture the little girl out into the factory. He did actually have a designated area for the ‘bakery’ just in the event that someone came looking or investigating and he needed to show there was actually a bakery there. He was thankful for that now, because he got the feeling that there was little to no chance he would have gotten away from the very very persistent little Shelby trailing behind him. It becomes apparent very quickly that little (y/n) will have no luck when it comes to seeing what was going on up on the counter, considering she wasn’t even nearly the same height as it, never mind tall enough see over it. Alfie has to get creative in that respect, eyes flicking around until they lands on a a stack of crates that he grabs a couple of to pile them next to the counter so that the youngest Shelby can contribute as she pleased to the cake making.
All things considered, Alfie was actually a fairly good baker. He didn’t come up with the idea of a bakery to cover his illegal business work for no reason. He knew he could bake if it was necessary (which it sometimes was to smuggle alcohol), so this ask from the little girl who had a list of ingredients and an exact image of how she wanted this cake to look, wasn’t a huge task for him.
In the process of the bake, Alfie learned a lot. He learned that little Shelby couldn’t quite pronounce her L’s (which Tommy was apparently working on with her), so she called him Afie. He learned that Tommy’s favourite cake was vanilla sponge, which was why it was a four tier vanilla sponge with extra strawberry jam that his sweet little sister had chosen. He learned that the little girl got here by very discretely tripping up her cousin, Karl, so that Ada was preoccupied giving him a plaster for his knee and stopping his tears and (y/n) snuck off from Ada’s London home in the direction she felt like she remembered Tommy going when he had taken her to Alfie’s bakery once, albeit leaving her in the car with Arthur and John. She had to ask for directions from confused strangers a few times, but ultimately she found the place on her own. Alfie learned that little Shelby talks a lot. She’s very clever, can follow instructions a lot better than most children of a similar age. It had become increasingly clear she didn’t see any problem with talking about the fun things she did with her brothers. The way Arthur and John like to throw her about to hear her giggles, how Tommy tucks her in every single night that he can. How he tickles her, how he still carries her around even though her aunt Polly protests it. How good her aunt Polly’s cooking is. How much she loves her family. She sees no problem with divulging these soft family moments, although Tommy would probably be absolutely appalled that people knew these things about him and his brothers. It made the head of the Peaky Blinders seem so incredibly mundane.
Alfie could see now why that sweet girl was so loved and held so dear by the family. He also had to wonder if she truly was one of them. She was funny and bright, she giggled with him and babbled on about sorts of rubbish. Alas, she was bossy as Thomas himself. She was loud like Arthur, sarcastic as John, self assured as Polly, as independent as Finn and opinionated as Ada. She made sure to tell Alfie exactly how to stack the first layer while she mixed ingredients for the next layer and he was kept on a very short leash, reminded every so often that he was not to dip his fingers in any of the mixtures and leaning over as he worked to tell him Tommy liked more jam than what Alfie had put on.
“Wait!” She yelps out, leaping off the makeshift kitchen stool made from those bottle crates to chase after Alfie until she reaches the man who was carrying the cake towards a box. “Finishing touches,” she insists, ever so slightly dusting the cake with powdered icing sugar to give a final decorational appearance. Alfie smiles subconsciously as the small girl stands back with a proud grin, turning her eyes to man holding the cake, “Thank you Afie,” she beams, her cute little way of saying his name never lost on him as his heart flutters. “Welcome, baby Shelby.” He responds as he slips it into the cake box he’d ordered one of his men to go and get without question.
Alfie was certain he would step outside his bakery and London would be burning. He expected to have Shelby’s killing people on the streets searching for their baby, their sweet little princess. He assumed (and rightly so) that Ada hadn’t told Tommy that she had absolutely no idea where his most precious little love was for genuine fear of his reaction and so she had mobilised some friends and acquaintances she had made while in London to try finding her little sister. Albeit they were evidently unsuccessful and absolutely no one expected little (y/n) to be baking with Alfie Solomons for her gangster brothers birthday because she just loves him so.
Ada literally burst out the front door frantically when she saw the car headlights pull up outside her house, wrapping herself tightly in her coat as Alfie Solomons lifts her little sister down out of the car. The 5 year old stands innocent as ever next to the man who Tommy never truly knows if he can trust or not as he reaches back into the car to lift out a white cake box with two strong hands. “Better keep a closer eye on this one yeah?” He gestured his head to (y/n) who runs towards Ada and jumps into her open arms to be squeezed incredibly, almost painfully tightly. “Never run off like that again!” She hisses, her concern and anxiety clear behind her words as she speaks into her sisters soft hair, stroking it with her hand for some form of reassurance.
“Sorry Ada,” she hums cutely in response, “We made Tommy a cake though, for his birthday!” Ada let’s go of (y/n) and turns to the little girl. “Go inside and find Aunt Pol, i’ll be in shortly.” She says as she eyes Alfie Solomons with the stoney faced glare he assumes she learned from Polly Gray and her often stoney resolve. “Bye bye Afie!” The 5 year old chimes, scuttling up to him to wrap her arms around his legs for a moment before turning and running off with a wave at the doorstep with Alfie a little bit to stunned by how kind she was to him despite the bad man he was to do much else than wave after her. “You,” Ada snipped, cutting him out of his thoughts and crossing her arms firmly over her chest, “Baked a cake with my little sister?” Her words leak with confusion, eyebrows furrowed with her head tilted in question as she continues to be unable to think of any reason why Alfie Solomons hadn’t turned the little girl away or even used her as a bargaining chip with threats of harm to the child if Tommy didn’t do as Alfie wanted. Instead he baked with her a cake for Thomas and she was returned without a bump, not even a hair on her head harmed. He had returned the little Shelby who was uncharacteristically clumsy for a Shelby without her falling off of anything, burning herself on any ovens or accidentally eating something she was supposed to.
“Yeah.” Alfie responds, shrugging his shoulders at the same time. Ada steps closer to him to try in some way to read what he’s not saying, her heels clicking with each step. “And you want nothing for it?” She presses, her eyes narrowed as he shrugs. “Birthday gift innit yeah?” He grumbles, handing the cake to Ada. “She’s the best of you lot,” he states firmly as he turns his back to climb back into his car, “Keep her that way yeah?”
Ada’s frown turns to a soft smile as she nods, watching as Alfie Solomons pulls his door shut firmly and turns on his ignition.
“Mr Solomons, Oi!” She calls after him, forcing him to roll down his window to hear what she has to say. “Thank you.” She breathes, “For looking after her and bringing her home. And for the cake.” Alfie nods his head in acknowledgment. Ada isn’t sure what else to say. She still feels fairly nauseous at the fact her little sister was missing for virtually the whole day and littered with further nerves at the fact Tommy would be around to pick her up in a half hour and it wasn’t like little Shelby to keep quiet about anything, especially not when it came to Tommy and especially when it came to her adventures that her favourite brother hadn’t been part of, so assuredly she would let him know all about her baking day with Alfie after the cake was revealed tomorrow afternoon for his birthday. Alfie knew this too and he imagined he’d get a visit from the head of the Peaky Blinders relatively soon after he found out.
Tommy would probably be as confused as Ada as to why Alfie looked after little (y/n) the way he did. Alfie couldn’t even really explain it himself, she just warmed up his heart and the sweet little girl showed Alfie truly why Tommy loves that little girl so much. She brings laughter and happiness and fun. She brings light into a very, very dark life and Alfie appreciates that dedication Tommy had to keeping her safe a lot more now. He himself now had a soft spot for the kid and there was a part of him that knew for a fact he too would be making sure no one in his circle was breathing words of harming that little girl who had promised she would bake with him again, and had his birthday written on her hand so she could bake for his birthday.
Maybe the Shelby’s weren’t so bad after all.
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offbrandhange · 3 years
Text
AOT if you were sick | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘
Headcanons on how some of the AOT boys would help/comfort you when sick! :)
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Characters: Armin, Connie, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi, Niccolo, Reiner,
Gender: Neutral, no references to readers’ gender ! :)
a/n: I haven’t been feeling well lately so badabam badaboom here we go. Also I am trying a new format because I’m pretty sure when I write the bullet points it looks wonky on mobile?...I dunno man :/
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𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
Right off the bat, Armin would ask what your symptoms are. Immediately after telling him he’d rush out to the pharmacy to pick up meds, and probably some comfort food, too.
How does he comfort you?
Armin would comfort you by bringing you things you need like medicine, wet towels, clean clothes, food, etc. Constantly, and I mean constantly asking if you want anything.
He probably would also set up a little sick-station in the living room with a blanket, pillow, cup of water, wet towel, bowl of soup, etc. and put on a TV show you like and just...chill while you watch or nap (if you fall asleep midway through).
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
Only if you were super sick. He would 1000% be worried about you while at work, though. You’d get “How are you doing” messages every hour, and he’d totally end up annoying the sh*t out of his co-workers for constantly talking about you being ill. Armin would probably also pick up a little snack/gift for you on his way home.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Most likely not. Armin would be scared he’d get sick too, and then you’d have to take care of him. If you begged him for a quick kiss, or you really whined for some cuddles, then maybe he’ll indulge.
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𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
“Dang bro, that sucks.” And that’s all he says.
How does he comfort you?
I think if you asked him for something, he’d get you it willingly and eagerly, but otherwise he’s clueless; He assumes you’re good if you don’t say anything.
Connie would comfort you by hanging out with you. Most likely, he’d sit you down on the couch and play video games with you, like Mario Kart; or he’d show you him killing a really hard boss. I think he’d also send you funny videos/tiktoks, and I mean like, the really dumb ones, where it’s like...a fart sound effect over an image of a truck. Or a, “Can I touch that badonkadonk fool?”
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
Yup, especially if you asked. I feel like Connie would take any chance he could to take off work, and you being sick would be his opening. He wouldn’t leave you alone all day, either; You’re stuck with him.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Connie does not care if you’re sick. You’re gonna get the same amount of treatment, maybe more if you whine and snuggle into his chest. He thinks you’re even more cute when you’re sick.
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𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
Eren would say something like, “Oh. Are you alright?” If you said no, he’d make you a snack or ask if you want anything. Afterwards he would chill with you and probably cuddle or snuggle you. I doubt he would really worry, he’d be real calm about it.
How does he comfort you?
He’d bring you something if you needed it. The only time I could see him getting fussy about it though, is if you interrupted him while he was totally invested in a video game or on a work call.
Most definitely snuggles with you in bed. Probably would do something to tease you too, kissing down your neck and saying “Are you better yet? How about now? Are you better yet?” I can see Eren being totally down for an afternoon nap together anytime you wanted.
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
He would ask you if you wanted/needed him to. If you said yes he would, even if you weren’t really sick. Likewise, if you said you’re fine, but were far from fine, he’d call BS and stay home too; if you kept saying he didn’t need to, it’s very likely his stubborn a*s would argue with you and take off anyways.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Definitely. Eren would still, probably even more than usual, baby the ever-loving sh*t out of you. There’s no escaping his cuddles, kisses, or more...sexual activities.
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𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
Erwin, like Armin, would ask what’s wrong right away. Except he would completely annoy you by asking a million f*cking questions about your symptoms. He’d probably google them too and list a ton of possibilities that are so far-fetched. He’d end up scaring HIMSELF and forcing you to go to the doctor.
How does he comfort you?
Up your A**. Every five seconds he would be like, “Need something? You’re sure? You’re sure you’re sure? I know I was here five minutes ago, yeah, but I’m just making sure. So you’re sure?”
Pets your head, ruffles your hair. Goes out to pick up medicine, snacks, maybe even flowers. Probably tries to brush your teeth for you. You know, Erwin things.
Would they take/call off work for you?
Y E S. Yes. This man would call off the whole WEEK. He wouldn’t leave you alone, either. The whole damn day he’d be breathing down your NECK. Even if the only discomfort you felt was a scratchy throat. He’d make you call off work too.
Are they still physically affectionate?
I feel like Erwin is on the verge of being either, “Yes, princess, let me hold you.” or, “Oh no, no, no, we can’t be having that. Oh no, no, no. No passing illnesses, sweetie.” If the second were true, the only way to get him off your back would be by threatening to hug him while snot was dripping down your nose. This grown ass man would probably be screaming like a (very deep-voiced) little girl and running for dear life.
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𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
Jean would be so FREAKING sweet, and nobody can tell me otherwise. He’d say something like, “Awe, baby. Are you okay? Want anything?” He genuinely cares; although, immediately afterward he did anything nice or caring for you, he’d text all his dude friends and be like “yo man I’m SUCH a good boyfriend.” and brag his a*s off.
How does he comfort you?
He’d ask every once in a while if you needed anything, and he’d randomly bring you stuff like soup or a fresh cup of water. He’d probably feed you it, too.
Depending on what you wanted, Jean would either leave you alone or smother you to death. If you wanted him to leave you alone he’d check in on you every so often, and if you wanted him to smother you, he’d literally follow you all around the house. I’m talking like, cuddling or napping on the couch/bed, or straight up just following you around like an overly-attached child. His arms would be around your waist, chin on your head, and he’d waddle behind you like a d*mn penguin. And that includes trips to the bathroom. He’d probably sit outside the bathroom and wait for you, though.
Would they take/call off work for you?
If you wanted him to, were really sick, or if you were incredibly pitiful and acting like you were on your deathbed. Otherwise, I think he’d still go to work. He would bring home snacks and flowers afterwards though.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Oh my god, Jean would still be all over you. Like, there wouldn’t be a moment you’d be free from his hold. He’d probably still want to have sex with you, too as long as you were feeling well enough for it...The only exception would be if you got too over-heated or over-whelmed, then he’d very sadly hold back. Like a scolded pup, he’d just sit there...watching you...wishing you were in his arms.
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𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
You would tell him you’re not feeling well, and the first thing this man’d say would be, “What is it? You have the sh*ts? Something not coming out?” He’d get you what you needed immediately after you told him what was really wrong, though; but he’d also, very discreetly slip you a box of anti-diarrheals, too, just in case.
How does he comfort you?
Every once in a while he will ask if you need something. He’s not too over-bearing nor distant. Although, he’s probably constantly slipping you hand-sanitzers, and cleaning your room, or anything you’ve touched. It’s for your, and his sake. Oh, and he’s not handing you anything, either; he’s throwing it at you to catch. Or slipping his hand through the door with a bowl of soup/cup of water, and placing it on the floor/nearest surface. Kind of like when a cat pushes their paw through a crack, then disappears, and you’re like, “oh, would you look at that.”
I don’t think Levi would really want to be too close since he’s kind of a clean-freak, so he’d comfort you through, maybe, sending you low-quality cat memes he found on the web. Or he’d put on one of those full-on, ugly, yellow hazard suits and hold your hand while watching a reality-TV show like The Bachelorette meanwhile mocking them to oblivion. You’re legally required to laugh at the comments he makes about the people on the show; he’s doing it to be funny. He’s just awkward.
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
If you were pitiful, or not that sick, no. If you were genuinely pretty sick, then he’d call off work. He wouldn’t bug you, he’d just...stand in the corner and watch you. Just...he’d be there. Also still in his hazard suit. With his arms crossed.
Are they still physically affectionate?
No. Absolutely not. Not unless you’re talking about him and the cleaning supplies. I think if you tried to go anywhere near him, he’d get really mad and threaten you with a spray-bottle filled with water.
I think he would be upset, though. Like, I could see him having a calendar and just...sadly, squeakily dragging that marker down to form an X over the day to see how long you were sick, waiting ‘till you were better so he could hug you again.
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𝕹𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
In a worried, but also kind of loving-scolding way, he’d say something like, “Geez, how’d this happen?” Immediately after he’d make you some homemade soup with fresh ingredients. Only after he would give you your medicine, because it needs a, “full stomach to work.”
Additionally, if he makes you food, don’t tell him if you can’t taste it. Please, god, don’t. He’ll feel like he did all that work for nothing then get annoyed.
How does he comfort you?
Constantly bringing you food or desserts. When he asks if you need anything, his mind jumps to a food or drink instead of medicine or a wet towel, because that’s just his strong-suit.
I feel like he would hang out with you and let you lay your head on his chest while you watched TV together. I picture him saying something like, “Hey babe, let’s watch Hell’s Kitchen.” Or, alternatively, “Hey babe, let’s watch Kitchen Nightmares.” Don’t watch Kitchen Nightmares with him. Those unclean kitchens will make HIM vomit, too.
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
Niccolo probably wouldn’t call off, but he would make you a whole bunch of yummy meals for you to eat the next day. He’d probably leave you a cute little note too, like a “Feel better, love you! :-D” with hearts all over it.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Depends on what kind of sickness you had. I think if you lost your taste he’d draw the line, simply because he needs to be able to taste the food he makes. Also, it frustrates the sh*t out of him when he loses his taste. Otherwise, I think he’d be down to cuddle, and very limitedly, kiss.
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𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖚𝖓 ~
After telling him you’re sick...
Gets VERY concerned. Wants to take you to the doctor, even if it’s a light illness, because he wants to make sure it’s nothing bad. He wouldn’t leave you alone after you tell him you’re sick, either. Constantly by your side.
How does he comfort you?
You wouldn’t need to ask for anything, because he already has everything for you. You’re surrounded in snacks, bottles of water, blankets, pillows, wet towels, medicine, literally anything you need, it’s already there. He’ll even offer to carry you to the bathroom, just so you don’t have to move.
Reiner would probably cuddle with you and put on a romance, family, or Disney movie. If it’s extra emotional, it’s gonna make him extra emotional. He will be squeezing you for dear life and just saying stuff like, “Boy, I don’t know what I’d do without you...”
Would they take/call off work to take care of you?
Yes, even if all you had was the sniffles, Reiner would have already called off, and make you call off too. He just thinks that’s what you should do if a loved one is sick. If he left you alone, he’d get worried you’d end up falling or unable to get something you need. He wants to be there for you.
Are they still physically affectionate?
Reiner would, but in a much more sweet way. He’s genuinely really worried for you, and doesn’t like seeing you sick. So be prepared for him to constantly be holding you with your head on his chest, and him peppering kisses all over your face.
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bibliosophist · 3 years
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Asmodeus with a mc who is insecure. They thinks they are not good enough for him and think he'd rather be with someone prettier. He find out and go's to comfort mc.
Tonight is the night. Panacea Skincare is having a launch party to celebrate their new line of products, and Asmodeus is the face of the campaign. He’s talked about nothing else but this party for a fortnight, and now it’s here.
The first thing you see when you enter the hall is a screen displaying a thirty foot tall photo of your boyfriend. In it Asmo is sprawled across a white marble bench set amid a lush, verdant garden. One of his milky white arms rests above his head, the other lays across his bare stomach. Only a swath of silky white fabric covers his hips. He’s lithe and lean, with both the indentations of his ribs and the toned planes of his stomach on display. Letters forming the words Panacea Skincare scrawl themselves across the bottom of the screen.
He squeals as he runs across the room towards his own likeness, pulling you along behind him.
“I can’t believe it! (Y/N), look, it’s me!”
“It’s you. You look incredible. I mean, you always look incredible, but you’re practically glowing.”
He giggles. “I know, right? They didn’t even alter the photograph at all. That’s one of their principles- no retouching. Panacea wants everyone to know that they’re honest and authentic. But,” he grins, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “why not stack the deck in your favour, right? That’s why they came to me. Who else has skin this close to flawless?”
You smile and squeeze his hand. “Nobody.”
“Exactly! Darling, would you mind taking a picture of me with me?” he asks, striking a pose next to the photo. He leans forward slightly, one hand braced on his thigh while the other throws a peace sign. He winks at the camera.
You snap a half dozen photos of him from different angles. You know what Asmo means when he says “take a picture.”
A high pitched squeal breaks your impromptu photoshoot. When you whip your head around to the source of the noise, you find a beautiful young demon standing stock still, pointing at Asmo. “It’s him! It’s Asmodeus!”
In a matter of seconds, Asmo is engulfed in a swarm of admirers. Some hang off his arms, others clutch at his hands. One particularly enamored demon drapes themself over Asmo’s shoulders. Camera flashes sting your eyes- it seems that the entire room is desperate for a selfie with your boyfriend. You can just barely see Asmo’s amid the crowd. A perfect smile lights up his face- he’s absolutely in his element.
As the mass of demons around him continues to grow, you’re shunted to the edge of the room. You don’t really mind; it’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Being with Asmo means having to be okay with sharing his attention, and you've accepted that. Still, you can’t say that it doesn’t make your stomach twist when you see the gorgeous demon with their head on Asmo’s shoulder whisper something in his ear that makes the Avatar of Lust giggle.
You’re so preoccupied with watching the encounter that it takes you a moment to notice the two demons standing a few feet away from you, heads bent together over their drinks. It isn’t until you hear your name that your ears perk up.
“(Y/N)... Yes, that sounds right. (Y/N).” says one of the demons. They both have sleek, bottle glass green hair down to their waists and skin the colour of sun bleached canvas. Sirens, you think.
Beside them, their similarly striking friend snorts. “Even their name is common. I can’t believe Asmodeus, of all demons, has settled for that.”
“Maybe they’re more than meets the eye. You’ve met the other human, Solomon, right? They say he’s the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived.”
“Unlikely,” says the other one. They make no attempt to hide the way their eyes rove over you, or the way their lip curls before they continue. “If they had any kind of magical power, they’d spruce themselves up a bit. Would you be caught dead looking like that if you could help it?”
“No, I suppose not,” says the first, sipping at their drink.
You feel the blood rise to your face. It’s not like you haven’t thought the same thing yourself a thousand times since you started dating Asmo, but to hear it said out loud...
Ducking your head to hide the tears pricking your eyes, you make your way across the hall to the washrooms. Thank whoever designed this building, they’re single occupant. You lock the door behind you and, closing the lid of the toilet, sink down onto it.
They’re right. You know they’re right. You see the way eyes linger on you when you’re together. You went to high school, you know that look. The “what’s he doing with them” look. What did Asmo see in you? He could have his choice of lovers from any of the three realms. Even among humans, you’re... average. What does the most beautiful creature in existence want with average?
You feel the telltale sting of tears rising to your eyes just as a knock echoes through the small room. “There’s someone in here,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice steady.
“(Y/N), it’s me.” Asmodeus.
“I- I’m in here.”
“Hon, open the door. Please.”
With a monumental effort, you push back the tears. Smoothing down the outfit you’d so carefully chosen for his big event, you cross the room and unlatch the door. As soon as the lock clicks open, he’s pushing his way into the bathroom and relocking the door behind him.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, reaching for your hand. Instinctually you pull back. If he touches you now, you know you won’t be able to hold the tears in. He looks crushed. “(Y/N)? Did I do something?”
Well, crap. The very last thing you wanted to do was ruin this night for him. He’d been so excited. You couldn’t have him thinking that this was in any way his fault.
“No, no, of course not. I just- just have a headache, that’s all.”
“(Y/N)-”
“Really,” you say, turning away from him as the tears threaten to reappear. “Just go back out there, I’ll be fine in a few min-”
A warm hand on your waist spins you around. “I thought we promised never to lie to each other. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”
The look in his eyes as they try to catch yours pushes you over the edge, and before you know it you’re sobbing. He pulls you to him, rubbing his hand over your back in slow circles. You pull away, knowing that your tears will leave ugly marks on his beautiful shirt. When you try to say as much he shushes you, pulling you against him even tighter. “To hell with the shirt. What happened?”
Knowing there’s no way you’ll be able to brush this off now you relay what you overheard the Sirens saying. “And the worst thing Asmo, the very worst thing is that I know they’re right. I know it. And I know that someday you’ll leave me, and-”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
“W-what?”
“Do you really think I’m so shallow?”
“No, I didn’t mean- it’s just that you’re so beautiful. You could have anyone- absolutely anyone. Why would you settle for someone that isn’t your equal? Or as close to your equal as anyone could get, because I mean-”
“Stop,” Asmo says, cutting you off. “Listen to me. Normally I’d love nothing more than to listen to you babble about how beautiful I am, but not while you’re being so ridiculous.” He sighs. “I’ve had a lot of lovers, (Y/N). I’ve been with beautiful creatures- Demons, humans, even angels. But,” he runs his hands down your arms, slipping his hands into yours, “None of them were you.”
“So what, you’ve had your fill and now you’re ready to slum it?” You know you’re being belligerent, but you can’t help it.
“I absolutely did not say that, and you know it. I do think you’re beautiful, (Y/N). Of course I do. But that’s not why I love you. I love you for you. Do you only love me because I’m beautiful?”
“No,” you mumble, “but it’s a nice perk.”
The vibrations of his chuckle tickle your cheek. “Darling, in my long, long life I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Helen of Troy didn’t make my heart stutter like you do.”
“You dated Helen of Troy?”
“‘Dated’ Is a strong word, and that’s a story for another time. Please believe me when I say you’re the one I want to be with.”
You sniffle one final time, squeezing his fingers in yours. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. And, once I’ve taught those Sirens how to accessorize with their own intestines, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you on my arm. What do you say?”
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brywrites · 3 years
Text
Washed Away
[Here's a little break from the Lock and Key angst!]
Requested by anon: a Spencer fic based off of this TikTok, in which a Reddit user describes how his girlfriend washed his hair for him in the shower, and how it made him feel so loved.
Spencer Reid x fem!Reader. Pure fluff.
...
Spencer Reid wakes slowly and immediately turns his head to check the space beside him. Oh, good. She’s still there, looking perfectly relaxed in the soft morning light. They are so new that the sight of her in his bed still makes him blush. It’s becoming a more common occurrence and he can’t help but wonder if the effect she has on him is ever going to wear off. Based on the evidence he has so far, he’s quite doubtful. He can’t help but smile seeing her, and he rolls over to put his arm around her and nuzzle into the crook of her neck.
She laughs, leaning into his touch. “Hey you,” she says.
“Hi,” he whispers, his voice raspy with sleep. “I missed you.”
“Darling, I’ve been right here this whole time.” Neither of them has moved since they fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs.
He shrugs. “I still missed you.” But fortunately for him, missing her in his dreams is the extent of his longing this weekend. They have no new cases until Monday morning, giving him a much-needed few days off with her. Nowhere to go. No lives to save. He gets to just live, with her by his side. “Do you still wanna go to the Botanic Garden today?” he asks.
“Absolutely! Who knows when you’ll get another free weekend next? But first I need to shower.” She eases out of his arms and stands, stretching. “Can I steal one of your towels?”
Reid nods. Anything she wants is hers at this point. He’s never had someone to share his space with like this before, to share his life with. Someone who plans dates and gets excited to show him all the places she loves, who lets him take her to all the places he loves too. She opens the closet door and snags a clean towel before starting towards the bathroom.
“Wait, um – mind if I join you?” he asks. She turns to him with raised eyebrows and a bemused smirk. “N-not like that!” he quickly clarifies, cheeks red. “Just, well – the average shower uses about four gallons of water and given the urgency of climate change as well as the efficiency of saving time, I thought that–”
“Spencer, of course you can shower with me,” she laughs. “It’ll be good for me and for the polar bears.”
He hurries out of bed and follows her to the bathroom where they shimmy out of their pajamas and he turns on the water. Despite more frequent sleepovers and long weekends spent together, they rarely shower together. Between his erratic work schedule and general aversion to shower sex (“Two-thirds of emergency room visits are due to injuries caused in or near the bathtub. The slippery surface makes it incredibly dangerous and water actually increases friction instead of working as a lubricant.” “I’ll keep that in mind.”) the opportunities to do so had been rare. But as he steps over the edge of the tub into the stream of warm water, his body relaxes, letting go of the tension he’s become too accustomed to carrying over the last few years.
He extends his hand to her, always just a little nervous about her safety, and helps her in. With the water running over her body, her face slightly flushed from the steam, droplets hanging from her lashes, she looks so beautiful. And while he’d be more than content to stare at her all day long, he’s promised her a visit to the gardens. He reaches for the bottle of shampoo in the shower caddy, but she grabs his wrist.
“Wait,” she says. “Let me.” Reid is perplexed as she takes the bottle and squirts out a bit of shampoo before – to his surprise – running her own hands through his hair. With gentle fingers she massages his scalp, humming softly to herself. It’s like his brain has short-circuited with this simple action. He can’t seem to form a single coherent thought because it just feels so good. With a sigh, he closes his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation. Her touch is so soothing as she brushes her fingers through his hair.
When she stops, he opens his eyes to see her glancing around the shower. “No conditioner?” she asks. He shakes his head. His shower routine is quite… minimal. Two-in-one shampoo and a bottle of body wash. “Well, we’ll fix that later,” she says. “Those gorgeous curls of yours deserve a little extra love.” He’s still in too much shock to move as she rubs shampoo into her own hair before grabbing the body wash.
“Sandalwood and vetiver,” she reads from the label. “So this is why you always smell so good.” It was chosen at random based on what was on sale in the tiny town he’d been in for a case months ago, but he’s never been so grateful for a random choice before. She squeezes soap from the bottle and places a hand on his chest. “Is this okay?” she asks. He nods frantically, eager for her to continue. And so she does, lathering the suds over his body. Her hands are warm against his skin as she runs over every inch of him, taking her careful time. She rubs circles down his arms with her thumbs, traces invisible patterns across the soft skin of his stomach. She squeezes his hips softly before asking him to turn around. And what else can he do but oblige her?
She presses close to him and reaches up to massage his shoulders. He lets his eyes close once more, wanting to tune out every sensation that isn’t her as she melts away the tension in his muscles. It’s as though she can reach straight to his bones and heal everything that has ever hurt. Just when he thinks that this is as good as it gets, he feels her lips against his back. She places sweet, gentle kisses across his shoulder blades and wraps her arms around his waist. Her cheek rests against his back and it’s almost too much to be in her embrace in this warm water, with all of her attention focused on him.
It’s just so tender. This simple act of washing his hair, of lathering soap over his body. Of holding him close in the shower. It’s so gentle. He never asked for this, and she asks for nothing in return. It seems to be enough for her simply to care for him so gently. Reid finds himself fighting tears and can’t seem to explain why. It’s just so… comforting. And he’s been a stranger to comfort for most of his life.
Reid is used to being left alone and forgotten at best, bullied and bruised at worst. It’s still so unfamiliar to have someone touch him with reverence, to treat his body like something sacred and not something scarred. As though he is something beautiful. It’s as though his heart could burst right out of his chest, the love he feels for her too big to fit in his ribcage.
By the time she’s combing her fingers through his hair once more to rinse the shampoo out, he swears he’s floating. The combination of touch and warmth and intimacy makes the moment feel so incredibly surreal in the best of ways. How is it possible to feel so overwhelmed with love? Without even needing words, she says it so loudly. Nobody has ever done something like this for him. Nobody has ever paid such careful attention to him like this before. She tugs his wrist to spin him back around towards her before wrapping him in another hug. The water dissolves the shampoo and soap from her own body as it washes over them. Then she places her lips on his chest, kissing the spot just to the left of where his heart is rapidly beating. Her hands find their way up past his neck to brush his wet hair away from his eyes.
“There. That’s better,” she says with a grin. And oh, how it is. Still in a trance he stands there in the shower as she reaches past him to turn the faucet off and grabs the towel, stepping on to the fuzzy bathroom rug. When he follows after her, she wraps her towel around her body and then grabs his own from the rack, rubbing it over his hair and squeezing out the remaining water before draping it over his shoulders. It’s soft, but it doesn’t compare to her embrace.
She wraps her towel int her hair and he hastily wraps his around his waist, following as she walks back into the bedroom. This time, he reaches for her. His hand closes around her arm and he pulls her back against him. He holds her tight, resting his head against hers. One of her hands covers his, interlacing their fingers. “Is everything okay?” she asks.
“I just…” How can he ever put it into words? The way she washes away every doubt of his with such ease. How she’s becoming everything to him faster than he ever imagined. “Nobody has ever – nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. And I… well, I just…” Language is failing him. A million books in his head and not a single one can provide him with the vocabulary to articulate this feeling. So he simply holds her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she says softly. She turns her head to kiss his cheek. “I love you, too.”
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saphirered · 3 years
Note
Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!
I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘
(Percy)
The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.
At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.
Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.
This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.
Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.
At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.
Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.
When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.
You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.
You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.
Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.
Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.
You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.
Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.
Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…
It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.
“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.
“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.
(Caduceus)
The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.
You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.
You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.
In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.
Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.
You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.
An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.
With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.
When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.
When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.
Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.
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amor-immortalem · 3 years
Text
You’re Important to Me part 4
Part 1 | part 2| part 3
Genre: angst/comfort
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Chat: Troublemaker (affectionate)
Lucifer: Come home immediately. We need to talk.
Mammon: bout what? If its one of your shitty punishments. Think I’ll pass.
Lucifer rested his head on his desk letting out a groan. The second-born was frustrating him to no end. However, the first-born supposes he’s made him this way from everything he’s put him through. Picking up the pill bottle, he rolled it in his hand and watched as the contents slid from one side to the other. He placed them in a locked door in his desk as he thought about how they had been this close to losing yet another sibling.
A soft rapping on the office door pulled his attention back to the present.
“Enter,” he sat up straight as the guest joined him. It was Levi.
“Do you think Mammon still loves us. I-I’ve really been thinking about what’s been going on….. about our family. What if he leaves us? We lost Lilith. I-I don’t want to lose him too…” The Avatar of Envy’s voice quaked. Back when they were angels they were once close- almost even closer than the twins.
“I’m sure he does, Levi.” His response was hollow words. If Lucifer was being honest, he didn’t really know how Mammon felt about them currently. If he were the one in Mammon’s shoes, he would absolutely despise his brothers.“He’s currently refusing to come home, however. It’s likely that he knows what went on today and that’s why he broke up with the human we all know he cherishes so deeply. He didn’t want us to know.”
“I knew it! He hates us and never wants to see our faces again.”
“Leviathan, I never said that.” Lucifer’s voice was stern. “Please calm down before you throw yourself into a panic attack. He has to come home eventually, and we’ll all talk then- if not tonight then definitely tomorrow morning. For now, maybe you should go play one of your games. If you’d like I could join you to help take your mind off this whole debacle.”
Levi nodded his head slowly. “ I would appreciate that….. Actually, I had made this rpg specifically to play-test with Mammon but if you wanted to….we could play it together.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Levi.”
Finally deciding to make his way home, Mammon pushed open the heavy doors to the house. The last thing he wanted to do was face his brothers right now. He already anticipated their reactions. The teasing and mocking that would be thrown his way- there wasn’t any escape for him now, was there? At least no one was here at the moment- that much he could be greatful for.
As he made his way up to his room, the demon made sure to avoid the places he knew his brothers would frequent at this time of night. Once there, he slipped inside and tossed the bag of clothes he had modeled in today from the top of of the stairs into the walk in closet with practiced precision. When he turned his head, he saw her small, blurry form just lying there on the couch.
“Why’re you in here? Ya got a room if your own dontcha?”
“I just….. sorry. I pushed too hard, didn’t I?” Arella’s voice sounded hurt. “It was just that I thought this might be the only place I could go and you’re brothers wouldn’t come looking for me. I’m still really angry with them. Not that they would anyway, not with how I screamed and yelled at them earlier...”
“And Lucifer didn’t kill ya on the spot? Its a miracle you’re alive after that.” He let out a chuckle. “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or just plain dumb.”
“Maybe both…..” Arella sighed, “I… um… I’ll go back to my room now.” As she stood and made her up the staircase, he could feel the sadness radiating off of their pact mark.
“‘Rella, wait.” He grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t go. I don’t mind if ya stay…. We should talk about earlier, okay?”
He watched as she nodded a small frown on her face. Now that he could see her more clearly, he noticed the puffy eyes and tear tacks streaked down her cheeks. Now he just felt worse.
“I was thinkin’ real hard about this morning and I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” He started, “I don’t… I don’t really think we should break up…. I know you were just trying to help. That you were worried and scared for me.”
“I was…. Can I tell you something?“ she asks as he nods. “Seven years ago, I lost my little brother and then six months later my mother to suicide. One to cyber bullying, the other because she was so consumed with grief from the loss of a child that she saw no way to go on…. Do you know what was like….. to find their bodies? To realize you could have helped them if you had just paid attention and seen the warning signs? It still affects me to this day….They were the only blood related family I had left until I had found a new family here in the Devildom with you and your brothers. A-and then when you were saying all those things last night, I- I flashed back to the night I had found my brother but instead of him it was you and I-I-”
Mammon pulled the human tight against his chest in what could have been a bone crushing hug if he wasn’t careful and she buried her face in his chest. Her body shook with with muffled sobs.
“I’m sorry. I was running my mouth without thinking ‘bout what that might do to everyone- worst of all you….” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I wont say things like that ever again. No matter how I’m feelin’.
He walked her back towards the bed, letting her get in as he went to go change into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. He joined her in bed shortly after, pulling her close as he wiped the stray tears from his cheeks. Arella moved closer so she could lay her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, her crying reduce to quiet sniffles and hiccups by this point.
“Ya know, I think you just wasted your breath when you were yellin’ at my brothers earlier…. I think to them, I’ll just always be the family screw up. I’m already dreading the teasing I’ll get tomorrow at breakfast….”
“It had to be done, though. I think I managed to set them all straight….If you could have seen the look on their faces when I lost control of my temper and fried all the electronics in the common room or when I commanded Asmo to sit so hard he crashed face first into the floor….”
“Wait…you did what?” He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at her before breaking into a soft laugh, “Ya really are something else, Hon, ya know that? I’ve never met someone who would fight for me like this before- who would call my brothers out on their bullshit.”
“Only because I know you don’t deserve to be treated this way…. You… you deserve good things and to be treated well by the people who you love most.” She yawned as she stretched out a little more in his embrace. “And because I love you and I would be lost if anything were to happen to you.” Her eyes were starting to slip closed.
“I love you too, babe.” The demon hummed as he started to card his fingers through her hair. As soon as he was sure she was out like a light he pressed his lips to the crown of her heard once more.
“Thank you for being here on my worst days, for being my little ray of sunshine down here in the dark.”
Once the morning came around, most of Mammon’s brothers gathered in the common room. They were awaiting the entrance of the Avatar of Greed as it was nearly breakfast time.
Lucifer had figured Mammon would be avoiding them as if they had the plague, so he instructed Beel to drag him in here by any means necessary. They all knew he was successful when they heard Mammon let out a surprised yelp and the clattering of a bowl against the floor.
“C’mon, Beel, Let me go!”
“Not until we all talk.”
“Talk? What’s there to talk about? I didn’t do nothin’ so let me go!’
Both demons soon entered the dining room as the sixth-born sat his older on the couch facing all of them, holding him down by his shoulders so Mammon couldn’t escape despite how he squirmed and tried to wiggle his way out of Beel’s grasp.
“Mammon, stop struggling.” It was a request from eldest, a chance to cooperate. “We all have some words we’d like to say to you.”
Mammon froze at that statement. Here it came: all the ridicule and teasing. He wanted to run. He was the second strongest of them, maybe if he tried hard enough, he could shake his little brother off and get away. What good would that do him though? His brothers would just corner him later anyway so maybe it was just best to get it over with now.
He looked towards his brothers’ blurry figures, a million different thoughts rushing his head. He couldn’t tell their expressions from this distance but they had to be smiling, right- ready to laugh at him any minute now. His body tensed as he braced himself for the harsh sting of their words.
“Mammon, we’re sorry,” Asmo was the first to speak up after a short moment of silence, “We love you so much even though we suck at showing it.”
“You did so much for us after we fell,- you still do a lot for us even now,” the seventh-born picked his head up from the table,“And I don’t think we ever told you how much we all appreciate it…. If it weren’t for you, I don’t even think we would still be a family… don’t forget, you’re the one who kept us all in line when Lucifer would lock himself away in his office back then.”
“I know we act like you’re just a burden to us,” Satan started, “but I think all of us would agree that life would be so boring without you here.”
“Yeah, I-I mean who else would take the time to play games with me when I’m down in the dumps?” Levi asked.
“Or risk getting strung up from the chandelier to get me the food that I want from the human world?” Beel cut in.
“Or compliment me on my outfit or hair no matter what form I choose to take for the day. Or is always there to hype me up when I’m having a bad day? Hell, you even gave up the position of DevilStyle’s cover model just for me! Honestly I think you might be the best big brother out there.”
“We know about all the things you’ve done in secret for us- the things you don’t take credit for,” Lucifer smiled softly, “I’m proud to call you my brother for that. We love you and while you may make some poor life choices from time to time, our lives just wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Mammon looks at them in a daze. Was this really happening? His brothers were…. Apologizing? To him of all people? This had to be a dream. There was no reality in which his brothers really cared about him. The second-born pinched the skin on his arm. That’s what you did to check if you were dreaming, right?
Harder, harder he pinched until the spot was sure to bruise. It wasn’t until Beelzebub placed his hand over his that Mammon realized he wasn’t dreaming. This was reality.
Tears welled in his eyes as he processed the words he just heard. One tear fell down his cheek soon followed by another then another until eventually the demon let out a sob.
“Th-This ain’t real! It ain’t!” The second-born yelled, his body shaking as he sobbed harder. “I’m still dreamin’. I-I gotta be! None of this is real…”
His brothers moved to embrace him- first the sixth-born, then the eldest and then the youngest. One by one, the rest of their brothers followed suit until the seven of them all somehow managed to end up on the floor in one giant cuddle pile, his face pressed into Lucifers as they allowed their brother to cry out all the tears he’d been bottling up for all these centuries.
It seemed they were going to be there a while- Good thing Lucifer had called Diavolo to tell him they wouldn’t be attending RAD today. That this was a more important matter to attend to.
“This stops today, Lucifer announced to his siblings once Mammon had stopped crying. “From today on, the six of us will make a conscious effort to change the ways we’ve talk to and treated you.”
“And if we get too out of hand, feel free to put us in our place,” Belphegor chuckled. “We can be blockheads from time to time.”
“The point is,” Asmodeus sighed as he hugged his brother a little tighter, “We all messed up big time. We just want to make you feel loved and appreciated again- like you’re an important part of this family.”
“We lost Lilith.” It was Beel’s turn to speak. “We’re not losing you too.”
Mammon smiled at his brothers’ words. Finally, he had thought, finally they were showing their true feelings to him after all these centuries.
“Thanks guys…..” the demon’s voice sounded cracked and strained from all the crying he had done earlier. “Even after everything that’s happened I wouldn’t trade y’all for the world. I love you guys.”
A chorus of ‘I love you too’s sounded from the group of demons as another family hug commenced. Eventually, as hours passed, one by one, they had all fallen asleep, each with a smile on their face and still huddled together.
Arella eventually found them in that state. With a soft smile she grabbed the blanket they often used for movie night and draped it over them heading back to her room so she wouldn’t disturb them.
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Taglist: @gallantys
Masterlist 2
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chainofclovers · 3 years
Text
Ted Lasso 2x8 thoughts
I am so lucky that the creators of Ted Lasso decided to make this entire show specifically for me. #blessed
If last week felt like a bit of breathing room (albeit tense, poignant, character-progressing breathing room) with distinct narrative lines, this week’s episode was a chaotic yet tightly-written swirl of pain and hope and sadness! No neat subject headers for this one, y’all. Just my brain and heart in the inadequate form of a bulleted list. It is the medium available to me at this time.
I am going to remember the moment when Ted calls Sharon and tells her his father killed himself for the rest of my life.
(I could say a bunch of stuff about his face and what he says and how he tries to hide his tears from Beard right after and how insanely much I adore this character and ahhhhhhhh but I’m just going to leave that scene there in our collective memories.)
Jamie. JAMIE. Higgins has given some great advice about love on this show, but his musings about his up-and-down relationship with his own father were not helpful in the context of Jamie’s dad, who is an abusive piece of shit. I really adore that all of the main AFC Richmond staff members are realistically a bit hit-or-miss with their advice and life philosophies (some are mostly miss this season, of course).
And I am completely in awe of the moment when Jamie punches his father. The way he just stands there after Beard kicks his dad out of the locker room. The way you can hear a pin drop. And Roy—Roy who is learning in so many areas of his life about his influence on people, learning that the things he needs aren’t necessarily the same as the things other people need—is the one to cross the room and hug him. Hold him, really, with the tenderness Ted used when he hugged Rebecca outside the gala in 1x4. God.
I’ve thought a lot about how s1 was about giving people a soft place to land. There’s always an angel there when you need one. There’s always an opportunity to be kind. If you look for someone, you find them. If you look for the good in someone, you find the good. And as everyone works through their individual journeys in s2, that can’t always be the case anymore. But there are still so many moments of angels on this show, and it’s not about chance and serendipity and fate [not that it was about that in s1] but about the effort it takes to become someone who can be there for someone else. Or who can be there for yourself. I’m so proud of Jamie for physically fighting back against his father. I’m so proud of Roy for being the one who recognized what Jamie needed.
I have every feeling in the world about how Ted is almost totally frozen both times (s1 and s2) he witnesses Jamie’s father abusing him. In s1, he was still there for Jamie after, and I have every reason to believe he’ll be there for Jamie after this incident as well, but that frozen stance HURTS. He’s in so deep with his pain about his own father that it’s like he physically cannot snap out of it to act in the moment. It seems entirely outside of his control, and it breaks my heart, because Ted wants so badly to be a good father, a good coach, a good friend, a good partner, a good patient. He’s there for people in all kinds of ways, even in his current less-than-capable state. He takes care of Sharon post-concussion and even gets her a new bike! During the disastrous match at Wembley his coaching is ineffectual and everything is chaos but he’s the last one standing on the pitch! But this really awful thing keeps happening to Jamie and Ted is just…frozen in the face of it. Like one of those nightmares where you’re running in place.
The frozen-in-place nightmare also kind of applies to the way the total separation between Ted and Rebecca feels, too. I have never for a moment doubted the writers’ intentions in setting these characters up as soulmates on parallel journeys, and I’m actually really digging (on a story level) how disconnected they are right now. It is IMPRESSIVE that their absence in each other’s lives feels like such a glaring loss, one we cannot forget even as there are so many other things happening onscreen. It is 100% not just shipper goggles making me process information about Ted while thinking about Rebecca and information about Rebecca while thinking about Ted. I know there are a lot of really angry and frustrated people in the fandom right now (both T/R shippers and T/R antis and non-shipping fans who don’t get why s2 is different from s1) and while I understand being frustrated by choices characters make, and frustrated by the feelings the show makes us feel that we just want to feel more of or less of, I continue to agree with pretty much every narrative choice happening right now.
Agreeing with the narrative like this?! This is such a unique experience for me as a viewer—to feel like I’m on a ride that is at once absolutely wild and incredibly sensible and well-crafted, and to feel simultaneously completely invested and anticipatory and speculative but also totally willing to trust where it goes. I long for Ted and Beard to really talk. I long for Ted and Rebecca to stop missing each other. I long for Roy to have a serious conversation with Ted about what’s happening with him. I long for Keeley to find a vocation, something that drives her beyond her projects. I long for so many things! But I wouldn’t long for them if this show was less good. If the show was less good, I wouldn’t have a wish list a mile long because I wouldn’t be so attuned to the details and potential lurking in every scene. THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SHOW, I CANNOT HANDLE IT, I LOVE IT SO MUCH.
(To that end, a great deal of the Ted Lasso tag and so many Twitter reactions reactions to the show feel super stressful right now and I am kind of just trying not to look?! I love this fandom so much because of the amazing conversations that happen and because of brilliant fic and because there are some awesome people I never would have encountered were it not for this show. That little bubble is wonderful and I’d stay in this fandom no matter what in order to keep experiencing those things. But fans’ catastrophic reactions to every little thing that happens, every little choice a character makes that isn’t the “perfect” choice? The takeaway that the writers—on this show of all shows—wake up in the morning ready for another day of torturing shippers rather than another day of writing a beautiful story they genuinely want to write? I do not enjoy those parts at all. I would like to opt out of those parts. I’m having such a magical experience watching this show and talking about this show and listening about this show and writing about this show with a variety of people who feel all kinds of ways. I truly wish I could somehow transfer the energy of this experience onto all the people who are hating it right now. I don’t mind at all that people are having vastly different reactions to this show and are sharing their honest feelings, including the really angry ones (I can appreciate something and disagree with it!), and I get that sometimes the language of fannish reactions is intentionally, ironically hyperbolic. But there feels like this very serious trend of people legitimately thinking writers on this show are targeting shippers and have lost respect for their characters, and I just feel like an alien from another planet when I see that stuff. I guess I just feel like people make art because they want their art to be visible to other people and to themselves, but that doesn’t typically involve specifically catering to or torturing a subset of that audience?)
I am more fascinated by Sharon Fieldstone than ever before. I have been running through every single action with her and Ted so many times. The confirmation that she’s living in club-provided housing (that could not look more different from Ted’s club-provided flat). Ted clearly noticing the many bottles. Sharon’s face while she tries to casually recycle them. (Sharon could legitimately have a more problematic relationship with alcohol than Ted does, and I find that extremely interesting and am very curious to find out what happens there.) Sharon leaving him voice notes while she’s concussed, probably because she’d been thinking about him shortly before the accident. The way Ted calls her and does all the funny voices and it’s not frustrating like all the times he uses his silliness and allusions to deflect during their prior conversations because this time, those behaviors are just a part of him showing care for another person. The way they stretch each other, and Ted is still wrong about the things he’s been wrong about, but they both grow all the same.
While it is pretty much impossible for me to imagine that this show would include an actual romantic relationship between Ted and Sharon (it would be beyond unethical even if they could write it well, and Sharon in particular is so professional and committed to her work, and it would erase so much of the powerful message about the importance of seeking therapy from a professional who is not your friend or partner, and I would totally hate it), watching this episode was the first moment I had this queasy little feeling that it’s possible that Ted could end up developing really complicated feelings about Sharon since, at this point, he’s been honest with her about things he’s hardly spoken about before and you can really form an attachment to people you feel safe with in a new way. (I mean, I’m sure Michelle knows what happened with Ted’s father, but I’m not even certain if Beard does.) He’s so broken right now, and Sharon is such a great person and so different from anyone else in his life (even though Rebecca is also different, and Beard is also different, and Roy is also different, and so on), that I could see things getting really fuzzy for him. I continue to have faith in the way the storylines on this show are handled. I’m just. Putting this here.
(In saying that, though, I also wanna make it really clear that I don’t just automatically assume anytime a new female character is introduced that they’re going to end up becoming a romantic complication. Like, Phoebe is allowed to have a teacher who is an attractive woman and AFC Richmond is allowed to have a sports psychologist who is an attractive woman and Keeley is allowed to talk to Jamie Tartt without it threatening what she has with Roy and all these people can exist as human beings without the introduction of romantic drama.)
Isaac gives every player one haircut per season, OH MY GOD. The JOY during the haircut scene. YES.
KEELEY AND REBECCA. Their text thread. The affirming video call right before Rebecca goes into the restaurant. The way Keeley sits all snuggled up against Rebecca in her office.
I was pretty thoroughly spoiled for the Sam and Rebecca plot through 2x8, and I was bracing for something far more problematic and tortured than what happens in this episode. The words I would use to describe their scenes: awkward, cute, cringy, and understandable. There are a million reasons why this relationship isn’t sustainable, but I felt completely understanding of both their choices here. This show has a lot of thesis statements, but I keep going back to the idea from 2x1 that there are people who enter your life to help you get to the next point, and I think it’s entirely possible that Sam and Rebecca will mutually be that for each other.
I find comparisons between Rupert and Rebecca super upsetting. There are absolutely meaningful things to say about the irony of ending up in a situation with an uncomfortable resemblance to certain taboo elements of an ex’s situation. But that ex is abusive and manipulative and cruel and Rebecca has exhibited NONE of those behaviors, and it makes me really sad to think that people feel that the writers on this show have betrayed Rebecca in giving her this storyline.
As always, I reserve the right to keep blathering about this show. I’ve had a headache for a couple of days, but my head is also so full of 2x8 thoughts that I couldn’t keep them in even if the circumstances for writing this were not ideal. I kind of hate that I’ve included frustrated fandom thoughts within the analysis of what I felt was an absolutely gorgeous, complicated, heartbreaking, near-perfect episode of television, but if ya can’t be a little dramatic on your own tumblr while you’re feeling raw and under the weather, where can ya?
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imagineanythings · 3 years
Text
Exhausted (Steve Rogers x Reader)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky x Reader (friendship)
Word Count: 4.7k
You’re the type of person who always needs to push yourself to your limits, and Steve doesn’t always approve. 
warnings: slight smut, nudity, death mention, hurt/comfort
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You had always been incredibly stubborn. It was a trait that came in handy in your work in espionage; you were hard to crack in interrogation and would do whatever it took to complete your mission. On the other hand, it was usually pretty detrimental to your health and wellbeing. You were more than willing to put your life on the line for the sake of a mission, and you were known for pushing yourself well past your limits in training sessions. You usually didn’t stop until you or your training partner were physically incapable of going on. You knew that the other avengers worried about you, particularly golden boy Steve and your best friend Wanda, but you usually just shook off their concerns. Bucky and Nat were always more than willing to go round after round with you in the ring or spot you as you lifted until your body gave out. They understood your need to push yourself and they were always there to help you do it safely. Having them made it easier to ignore the disapproving looks Steve always shot at you as you came wobbling out of the gym, trying to maintain your balance on exhausted legs. Those looks always gave you a deep pain in your stomach, like you had just been caught doing something wrong. Your gut twisted up into a knot as you ducked your head to avoid the gaze of America’s golden boy. You weren’t sure why, but you hated it so much when he looked at you like that.
Today was a tough day. Your mission a few days ago had gone south, which meant a lot of improvising and more casualties than there should have been. You were taking it particularly hard as you had taken point on the mission. Those deaths were completely your fault, and the guilt was weighing you down. You had barely slept. The night was plagued with visions of it all going wrong, some of true events and some of false, twisted worst case scenarios that your mind had created. After another nightmare and an abrupt wake up at 6 AM, you decided that you had gotten as much sleep as you were going to get that night. You got yourself up and out of bed and quickly found Bucky, who as luck would have it, was already in the gym, no doubt trying to exhaust himself to the point where his thoughts wouldn’t be so loud, which was coincidentally the same thing you were planning on doing. “Hey! Barnes!” You yelled as you entered the gym. He dropped the large weights he was curling and turned to look at you.
“Hey, Y/N! What’s up” He pulled you in for a hug once you got close enough, you sighed at the warmth and comfort despite his sweat.
“Oh you know, just trying to outrun the demons,” you joked as you tied your shoes, earning a small smile from him.
“I know how you feel” He said, still smiling, but you could hear the slight sadness in his voice.
“Come on Buck, how does some sparring sound?” You asked, climbing up into the ring. He smiled and wordlessly followed you.
Bucky was one of your favorite people to spar with. He was much bigger than you while still being almost as fast and agile, which forced you to get creative. He also wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty, which you loved. He’d pull your hair or sweep your legs out from underneath you or you’d climb on his back and cover his eyes, one time you even bit him when you found yourself running out of options. You’d never seen him look so shocked and deranged as he did after you sunk your teeth into his forearm, but you knew that both of you loved it. He had retaliated by actually pulling a knife on you, which was a first in your hand to hand training sessions. It wasn’t just physical, it was a mental game, sparring with Bucky, and you found it was one of the absolute best ways to keep your mind off of all of your horrible failures. You knew he felt similarly, you could see the way his shoulders relaxed and lost their tension when he stepped into the ring, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips twitched upwards when you landed a particularly good hit. Sparring with Bucky was therapeutic and exactly what you needed right now. Being a supersoldier, his stamina was much better than yours, and he never went easy on you. He would let you work until you physically couldn’t anymore. Even when your punches began to lag and your form became sloppy, he continued to deliver precise hits, easily taking you down over and over and over again. You would always just shake it off and bounce back up, eager to try again. On one particularly tough takedown though, where he delivered clean hits to your side, stomach, and chest all in rapid succession before grabbing your wrist when you made a weak attempt to hit back and tossing you easily over his shoulder like a ragdoll, you remained down for much longer than usual. He could see that you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Your chest heaved and your eyes had inadvertently filled with tears. You reached up quickly and wiped them away but it was too late, Bucky had already seen them, and he could hear the rasping of your slightly panicked, shallow breaths.
“Alright doll,” He said, offering you his hand, “I think that’s enough for one day,” You begrudgingly accepted and allowed him to pull you up to your feet, where you stood shakily, catching your breath for a moment. He put a gentle hand on your back as you hunched over, still trying to get the air to return to your lungs, and you both just stood there for a few moments before he spoke again. “You sure you’re ok, doll? I’m sorry if I went too hard there, I should have slowed down, I’m so so sorry” you could feel him panicking so you forced yourself to straighten up and you put a gentle hand on his flesh arm.
“You’re gonna have to do a lot worse if you really wanna take me out of commission, Barnes” you flashed him a smile and he let out a shaky breath and a nod. You managed to hold back a grimace until he had turned away for a moment.
“Good to know,” He said after the few moments you both took to collect yourselves, helping you out of the ring and handing you a water bottle, which you gratefully took. After a few more moments of recollecting yourself and getting your breath back you gave Bucky a quick hug and decided to head back to your room for a shower. “Thanks Buck, I really needed that,” you called over your shoulder on the way out.
“Anytime Doll! You know where to find me!” He called after you, bringing a small smile across your lips.
You moved shakily through the halls of the compound, adrenaline now totally worn off, the weakness and soreness of your muscles achingly loud. You had to brace yourself against the walls of the elevator in order to stay upright. Your head was swimming and you knew, once again, you had pushed it too far. Stepping out into the hall was even worse, you were dizzy and stars flitted across your vision. As you walked down the hall towards your room, you spotted Steve exiting his own room, which was directly across the hall from yours. You suppressed a groan as you knew within seconds that trademark disapproving golden boy stare would be upon you. He looked up after locking his door and saw you immediately, but instead of seeing that disappointed glare that you were expecting to adorn his face, his features softened. You must have really looked like shit.
“Y/N” He said softly, rushing to your side and allowing you to steady yourself against him.
“’m alright” you grumbled, trying to shove him off, but he just wrapped an arm around your waist to help keep you upright.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Y/N have you eaten today?” Steve asked. Truthfully, you hadn’t eaten that day. You had made it a rule not to eat before training in the mornings if at all possible. A few heavy cardio sessions followed by a well placed hit to the stomach forcing your breakfast back up your throat had convinced you to hold off of food until after training. You shook your head and Steve let out a frustrated sigh. There it was. The disappointment that you knew would show up eventually. Your stomach felt like it was continually tying itself up in knots and you weren’t sure if it was from the exhaustion or Steve’s palpable frustration with you.
“Come on, let’s get you in your room” He said, voice gentle and absent, the frustration you had heard so clearly moments ago barely detectable. He slowly helped you into your room, where you crumpled down onto the edge of your bed with a sigh. He disappeared out of your room and you were relieved to be left alone for a moment before he returned, a bottle of gatorade, a bottle of water, and a bag of trailmix in hand. He handed you the gatorade first. “Come on, you need to replenish your electrolytes.” You sighed and begrudgingly sat up to drink a few sips of the gatorade before lying back down.
“I can take care of myself you know,” you said, your tone more harsh than you had expected it to sound.
“I know,” his voice sounded somehow both fond and a bit sad, “but it seemed like you might need some help right now,” You shook your head and sighed, fighting back tears that you hadn’t even known were coming. Your vision was still swimming with those stupid tiny white stars and the exhaustion had caught up to your body and you felt horrible because you cost some brave people their lives and you were so embarrassed because you were breaking down in front of none other than Steve Rogers, who always looks at you like a child who deserves a timeout with those goddamn piercing blue eyes and you just know he can’t stand you and it’s all just too much. The tears came in droves and you couldn’t stop them. You threw your arms across your face to hide it but you knew Steve wasn’t that oblivious. You just wanted to crawl away and cry and hide from everyone but before you could even try to move you felt two large hands pulling your arms away from your face and wiping at your tears.
“Hey,” he said quietly, searching your eyes for answers. His bright blue stare made you want to hide even more, but you forced yourself to shakily hold his gaze, tears still coming. “You can talk to me you know, what’s going on?” He asked, reaching out to wipe your tears again. You sighed and slowly sat up. You had to fight the urge to rest your head on his shoulder and let him hold you while you sobbed. Instead you just let him put a gentle hand on your shoulder. You searched for the words but when you came up empty you just shook your head.
“Sorry,” was all you could manage, which to your surprise pulled a small chuckle from Steve.
“I don’t know what you could possibly be apologizing for right now, doll.” Steve said and you sighed, once again searching for the words.
“I’m just...” you trailed off, looking at the ceiling as if it could give you the answers. Steve waited patiently while you organized your thoughts. “I’m just sorry that I’m always letting you down. I know you don’t agree with my choices most of the time and I know you think I’m some irresponsible child, and hell maybe I am, I mean just yesterday I literally....” you couldn’t say that out loud, not yet, you weren’t ready to work through all of it. You swallowed and continued “I’m always going to do what I have to do to keep going, and I shouldn’t care if you don’t like me for it because I’m going to do what I want regardless of what people think but at the same time it feels like a knife in my gut whenever you look at me like you can’t believe someone like me ended up on a team like this.” You were rambling but you stopped yourself before it could go any further. “I’m just going to try and shower.” You stood up on unstable legs and Steve could see your entire body shaking from exhaustion and panic. He stood quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug. He could really feel you shaking now, pressed up so close against his body, like you were going to shatter at any moment. When you found your face pressed up against his shirt, breathing in his cologne and scent you lost it. You broke down and just let all the tears that you’d been holding in escape. If it weren’t for his arms wrapped tightly around you, you were sure your legs would have given out beneath you. You both stood like that for a few minutes, you sobbing into his chest as he stroked your hair and back and tried to make you feel safe. The shaking of your body went straight through his very being. Once your crying had slowed and he could feel your heart rate decreasing he tilted your chin upwards so he could look at you. Your eyes met his and he felt like you had his chest in a vice-grip, all tightness and pressure. His chest was completely and painfully empty, all that remained was an aggressive aching brought on by your red puffy eyes. He hated that he had a hand in making you feel like that.
“Hey,” he said quietly, fingers still gently resting on your chin. “I’ve never thought that of you.” He spoke slowly, voice barely above a whisper, his words deliberate and true. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should share more. “I...” he began, slowly gaining the confidence to say what he felt, “I only seem like I disapprove because I care about you... so much” Your breath caught in your throat. “It kills me to see you so beaten down and exhausted and all I want to do is help you but I never know how, I’m so sorry you thought anything else.” You examined his eyes to see he now seemed to be holding back tears as well. You placed a soft hand on his cheek and reached up on your toes to give him a small kiss on the side of his face next to your fingers. He blushed a bit, and spoke again, “you can always come to me, you know that right? I won’t work you as hard as Natasha, or put up nearly as much of a fight as Buck, but I’ll always be here when you need this,” he seemed sheepish at the admission. You just smiled.
“I can’t believe I thought you hated me this whole time,” he just shook his head in complete disbelief. That would be like hating the sun for burning so bright, it was ridiculous.
“I could never ever hate you y/n” His hand moved up to wipe at your tears once more. “Now will you please let me take care of you?” He asked, almost desperately. You rolled your eyes and simply nodded, even in your fragile state still not one to be “taken care of”, but who were you to argue with the Captain?
He sat you back down on your bed and told you to stay put and drink your gatorade. You did as you were told while he disappeared into the bathroom to turn on your shower. He came back into the room and forced you to eat some of the trail mix he had brought for you and then insisted on walking you to the bathroom, “You’re still shaking, I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself” he had said before wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You could have protested more but for some reason the words echoed into silence before they passed your lips.
Once in the bathroom you couldn’t help but give him shit “You gonna hold me up in the shower too?” You said with a smirk, leaning against your sink. He laughed but you could see his cheeks going pink.
“No- I um, well I can just,” he motioned towards the door, “not that I wouldn’t want to- I mean” he was getting more and more flustered by the second, you’d never seen the captain look so nervous and well... cute.
“If it wouldn’t be too weird, I could use the help” you conceded, and if you thought his face was red before, you had not been prepared for the crimson color that now covered his entire face and you were pretty sure his body too. “We can keep our underwear on if you want, it can be just...a friend thing, one friend helping another physically incapacitated friend” you said, and his breathing slowed a bit. He looked a bit sheepish and reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously, his voice barely audible when he finally spoke.
“And what if I didn’t want it to be just a friend thing?” He held eye contact with you, searching for some kind of response in the silence before you spoke. You were so stunned you couldn’t suppress a slight giggle, to which he immediately tensed up before you finally got some words out.
“Geez Rogers, at least take me to dinner first before you try to get me naked,” He looked absolutely mortified and began stammering and trying to get out some sort of apology.
“I’m so sorry y/n, I really didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to- well I mean I do, but not like this, and I absolutely would love to take you to dinner, I mean if that’s something you’re interested in, but I really just wanted to help and I screwed it up didn’t I?” He seemed like he could go on forever so you silenced him with a quick peck on the lips. It was chaste and fast, with not nearly as much feeling and closeness in it as either of you would have liked, but it served its purpose. He stood in stunned silence as you slowly took off your athletic shirt.
“Come on Rogers, dinner can wait, right now I need some help,” without waiting for an answer you steadied yourself on his arm with one hand as you tried to get out of your shorts without falling over. He was still looking at you like you had grown a second head, which made you back off a bit. You kept a hand on his arm for support but allowed for a bit more space between the two of you.
“Hey if you aren’t comfortable with this we don’t have to do it, I can just sit down in the shower or call Wanda or something it really isn’t a big deal.” He swallowed and shook his head, trying to snap himself out of whatever trance he had put himself in.
“No...no I just wasn’t expecting...” he paused, searching for the word, “that” He moved back in closer to you, he was close enough that his exhales ghosted your face. “As long as you’re sure you want this,” The words were tender but his face was set and serious. You nodded quickly in response.
“Oh Steve,” you took in his face, eyes tracing his features before finding his blue ones again, “This is all I want,” With a sudden moment of bravery, you weakly pulled yourself up and gently pressed your lips to his. He froze for a moment before reciprocating as if you were air and he desperately needed to catch his breath. He tasted surprisingly sweet, and the little groan he made when you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair tasted even sweeter. His hands began to roam but your body was still trembling and he had a sudden shock back to reality, in true captain-like focus, he was reminded of his mission. He pulled away slowly, your trembling increasing with the absence of his lips on yours. “Come on doll, let’s not forget why we’re here,” he said, barely above a whisper. He wanted you. He couldn’t deny that, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of first. If he was going to do this, as he had wanted to for so long, he was going to do it right. He slowly helped pull your sports bra off and then knelt down to remove your panties. He couldn’t help but leave small kisses on your stomach and thighs as he slid the fabric down your legs.
You shuddered and pawed at his shoulders. He understood almost immediately and pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. You tried to remove his belt but he quickly replaced your shaky fingers with his own, larger, more steady ones. He made quick work of his belt and pants and suddenly it was just the two of you standing there, painfully aware of how naked and exposed you were. As he looked at you he felt entirely breathless. You were more gorgeous than he had imagined, your skin so smooth and soft, your curves perfect, he wanted nothing more than to have you right there, but he held himself back. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, his girl needed his help, and he wasn’t going to let her down.
Steve reached a hand into the shower and felt the water to make sure it was hot enough. He gave a little satisfactory nod to himself before helping you into the shower and maneuvering you beneath the water. He made sure to keep at least one steady hand on you as you let the water wash over you. He could have stood there for hours, just watching your face relax and your head roll back as the water soothed your aching body. With your eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face you looked so peaceful, Steve almost didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but he could see you swaying a bit, still off balance and shaky from exhaustion. He quickly grabbed the shampoo and moved behind you, his muscular chest pressed up close against your back. Slowly he began to work the shampoo into your hair, your head rolled back even more and he could feel your muscles relax against his body. His fingers massaging your scalp and running through your hair drew a moan from you that was definitely not situationally appropriate, but you were too worn out at this point to care or even notice. Steve tried his hardest not to fixate on it, not to think about those sounds spilling from your lips. Now was not the time.
He shook himself out of it and rinsed the shampoo out before moving on to conditioner. Just like with the shampoo, he slowly and deliberately worked the conditioner through your hair, making sure to massage your scalp and coat your hair evenly. Once again he tried not to focus on the blissed out expression on your face, tried not to imagine any other context in which your head would fall back like that, lips slightly parted, sighs of pleasure sitting so beautifully upon them. After rinsing that out, he moved on to body wash. He took this time to savor every part of you, especially the ones he had never seen before. He ran his hands over your impossibly soft skin, and acquainted himself with every inch of it. He placed kisses on your shoulders before running his soapy hands over them, he paused with his hands on your waist, admiring how well they fit there, like they were exactly where they belonged. Your mind may have been too foggy with exhaustion to realize it at the time, but god dammit, Steve Rogers was worshipping every single piece of your body. You sighed as he ran his hands all the way up your stomach and your chest before placing a gentle kiss on your neck.
With your eyes closed and your weight resting on Steve’s chest behind you, you felt more at ease than you had in months. He planted another kiss on your neck, sucking gently and you let out a little moan followed by a breathy “Oh Steve.” That drew a groaning sound from somewhere deep in his throat and turned you around so he could kiss you again. He kept one stabilizing arm around your waist, keeping your body pressed up against his, while his other hand cradled your cheek like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and in that moment he was almost certain that you were. The kiss was passionate and full of desire but still gentle and tender. Like you were the most beautiful, fragile thing in existence and Steve just needed to hold you close but he was afraid you could shatter at any second beneath his touch.
Without breaking the kiss, he reached back and turned off the water, feeling almost guilty when you began to shiver in his arms. He quickly reached out of the shower and grabbed a towel, which he used to gently dry you off before wrapping it around your body tightly. He grabbed another towel and wrapped that around his waist. Then, without warning, he scooped you up in his arms bridal style, which caused you to squeal in surprise. You clung to him tightly, with your arms around his neck, despite the fact that you knew Steve would never let you fall. He brought you into your room and laid you down gingerly on the bed. You whimpered at the loss of contact and he smiled.
“Just a second doll, I’ll be right back.” He came back into the room with both of your clothes. He put your sweaty workout gear in your hamper and put his boxers on after laying the rest of his clothes on your bed. “I can grab you something from your closet if you’d like, you’d have to tell me where to look but I’m sure I can-” he turned to see you already pulling his shirt on over your head. Once you had it on you laid back down and just breathed in his scent. He watched the way you curled up in his shirt, content smile on your lips as you surrounded yourself with him and he felt his lungs empty completely. He never thought he would see something like this in person, he had resigned it to nothing more than fantasy, and yet here you were. He slid into bed slowly, as if rushing would break the spell and destroy this beautiful illusion all around him. But as he laid down next to you, nothing fell apart. Instead, you simply curled up against his body, laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his. You let out a tiny contented sigh as Steve wrapped one arm around your back and waist to keep you close, and used the other to gently play with your hair. It took mere seconds for your breathing to even out and Steve could tell you were asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and smiled as you snuggled in even closer to him, leaning into his touch. With his arms around you and the sweet smell of your shampoo and your body wash overtaking him, Steve could feel his own eyelids getting heavy. As he began to drift off to sleep he couldn’t help but think to himself, yeah I could get used to this.
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buckysdolls · 3 years
Text
Wine and Whine
One Shot- Thor x Reader
Summary- Requested By @buckybarnes101
Hello! Can I please request a Thor smut with enemies to lovers? Maybe they're all on holiday and Thor and the reader get locked in somewhere? Just fluff and smut really. Thank you x
Warnings- 18+ TURN AWAY NOW!/ Fluff Thor/Smut Thor/ Swearing
AN- Thank you for being my first request! I’m absolutely thrilled to be writing this! I hope you like it?
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The team decided to take a break for a few days, destroying Thanos had consumed everyone for the past five years that no one had seriously taken a stress-free environment break for a while. It was your idea, you suggested visiting Wakanda to relax before everyone went off on their separate adventures. Though you loved some of them more than others, you had become a family, one unit and you wanted to hold onto that for a little while longer. Clint’s family, Pepper and Morgan, all came along too. You were able to reflect on fond memories of Nat, Tony and Steve.
You all sat by the roaring fireplace of the cottage T’Challa had provided you with. You looked around soaking in the laughter and chatter that escaped everyone’s lips, a smile forming on your lips. That was until you saw Thor, you quickly regretting bringing Thor along on the trip, you’d always thought he was obnoxious and stroked his ego a little too hard. In the time you’d known him he’d always speak over you or do the tiniest things to annoy you.
Thor did this on purpose, he knew what made you tick, and he got great humour out of annoying you, just like he did with everyone else although he seemed to notice it bother you more. Of course, he did it because he liked you, that was the type of person Thor was. Finding it difficult to be affectionate and put down his walls, he’d rather annoy you and listen to you moan at him than you not speak to him at all.
He was howling away and bragging about him being the one who punished Thanos the most. You rolled your eyes, was this god serious? Could you deny he was amazingly eccentric? No. Could you deny he was extremely charming? No. Could you deny he was devilishly handsome? No. Was he incredibly irritating? Yes!
“Why does it look like your killing Thor with your eyes?” Sam leaned into your ear whispering. You’d obviously been staring at him for too long if Sam had noticed. You rolled your head back with a huff.
“He’s annoying Sam, his voice is too loud” You pouted letting your eyes fall on Thor again.
“I think someone has a crush” Sam elongated the word crush teasing whilst gently shaking you. You rolled in your lips trying to hide your laughter.
“I don’t not have a crush on him okay Sam. He maybe charming and a spicy specimen but…no” You didn’t even know how to finish that sentence; you’d just kept giving him compliments explaining how attractive you thought he was.
“Besides, you can find someone attractive and not like their personality Sam!” You hushed him turning your evils to him. Sam nodded his head puling a funny face to mock you. You sneered at him returning the funny face.
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Rhodes spoke up.
“Well…” You watched Sam sit up in is seat, adjust an upright posture, cross his knee over and clasp his hands together.
“I do believe Y/N fancies-“
“Wine... I fancy some wine!” You jumped up from the floor interrupting Sam, faking a smile. Feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks you composed yourself as everyone looked at you.
“Sounds like a good idea! I could go for another beer” Thor raised his glass at you requesting another knowing it would wind you up. You looked over at him, he was wearing his cheesy grin. You scoffed raising your eyebrows…you were not his god damn servant.
“Get one yourself Thor.” Quickly turning on your heels you walked past Sam, flicking his head on the way out of the living room calling him a ‘douchebag.’ You heard the heavy footsteps that you identified as Thor’s following you. All the alcohol was kept in the basement which is where you and Thor headed for. Swinging the door wide enough for Thor to enter you listened to the door shut behind you.
“Fancy wine huh?” Thor questioned leaning his body weight against a rack of wine. You looked at him reaching for a bottle wine on the exact rack he had leaned on. You stood on your tip toes, your body inches away from his. You concentrated on grabbing the bottle.
“Uh-huh”
You felt his breathing tickle your skin as he towered over you, unknowingly you laid you free hand on his chest, steadying yourself as you finally gripped the bottle and lifted it up. You looked at your hand and slowly looked up to meet Thor’s eyes, his smirk was gone and his face  was relaxed and gentle as he searched into your eyes. His hand settled on your back pulling you closer to him. You wet your lips which suddenly began to felt dry. Was Thor going to kiss you? Nah, you awkwardly coughed and stepped out from Thor’s touch.
“How’s your day been?” Thor asked quickly trying to override the awkwardness.
“G--good” Your words fumbled as you tried to compose your beating heart and the flutters that you felt in your panties.
“Good” Thor repeated not actually knowing what to say, before you could walk up the stairs to reach for handle of the door you heard it lock. In sync you both moved your heads to the door upon hearing the click.
“Have fun you two” You heard Sam’s voice snigger as his footsteps disappeared from ear shot.
“No no no no no” You mumbled, placing your wine bottle down, rushing up the stone stairs and fiddling with the doorknob. You sized Thor up demanding he opened the door.
“You have superpowers. Open it!”
“Maybe I don’t want to open it?” Thor closed the gap between you, you felt as though the air was being sucked from around you.
“Please just open it” The words escaped your mouth so quick you weren’t sure it was even English, Thor grinned, enjoying watching you get nervous.
“Are you nervous around me Y/N?”
“Pffft, no. You’re so annoying and”
Thor cut you off crashing his lips onto yours, he was getting impatient at you and didn’t want to listen to you stumble over your words anymore. You melted into the kiss, after letting it go on. You were surprised you hadn’t pushed him away. Thor placed his arm under you bum gesturing for you to jump up. The kiss was lustful as you jumped wrapping your legs around his lower waist feeling his cock hard. He stumbled as you carried on kissing, his teeth pulled at your bottom lip wanting to explore, pushing you against a wall you clung onto him, your hands wrapped around his neck gripping and pulling on his long dreadlocks, he growled into the kiss and smiled enjoying you pulling on him. He freed one of his hands whilst the other kept you up against him, you felt him move your panties to one side and gently stroked your clit testing the water. You gasped at Thor’s advances; he took your moans as a ‘please carry on.’ Thor inserted his fingers inside you, your gasps getting louder as his fingers increased with speed.
“Fuck Thor” You cried out burying your head into his neck squirming, relishing in the pleasure he was giving you.
“That feel good huh?” Thor grinned as he looked down at your head stuffed into shoulder, you managed to mumble a ‘yeah’ and nod your head to answer him. A few seconds later you realised he’d stopped and was using his hand to unbuckle his belt and expose his cock, you felt it hit your walls. Your insides turned squishy knowing you were just about to get fucked by Thor. He looked deep into your eyes affectionately brushing the knotted hairs that hung over your face letting his hand settle on your neck and his thumb on your cheek. He smiled once more placing the most tender kiss on your lips. The tenderness of the kiss felt real, you felt as if your lips matched together perfectly. He wasn’t hungry in this kiss he was loving and soft. He slowly inserted himself into you, you wailed his name as every thrust had you craving more. The concrete wall began rubbing you skin as his thrusts got harder and faster.
“Thor!”
“Be quiet” He demanded sniggering, as much as he loved hearing you, whine for him you’d completely forgotten the group of people not too far way. You bit down onto his shoulder to control your moans. Before you knew it Thor had you cumming, he slowed down as he listened to you cum for him. Thor set you down from the wall and around him. Your legs gave way wobbling, luckily Thor caught you before you could meet the floor.
“You okay?” He smirked, the smirk that used to make you cringe inside now made you feel weak. You thinned your lips and pointed your finger at him.
“1 minute” You said catching your breath and regaining your composure.
“Mhm, I’m good”
Thor engulfed you in a hug, you let your head lay on his chest as he rubbed your back lovingly.  It would be a few minutes before Sam would open the door. You quickly pulled away from Thor and picked up your bottle of wine heading straight up the steps leading to the open door with Sam leaning on it.
“You get your wine?”
You waved it in Sam’s face as you walked through the door highlighting that you definitely got your wine.
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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years
Text
Reunited
Part One of The Necklace (1/3)
Obi-Wan x Reader (f)
Warnings: none; fluff - maybe angst?
Word Count: 2k 
Based on this Request:
“If you still need that inspiration... maybe an obi-wan thing where he makes the reader a beautiful necklace when they were young padawans and they get separated bc reader goes om a long mission but when they meet again as adults she still wears it and then he confesses his feelings (a bit of anakin teasing his master about his obvious feelings sprinkled in perhaps😂)”
A/N: Thank you so much to @katevino for this suggestion! I absolutely adore this idea and I decided to turn it into a small series. Part two will be posted this Sunday! 
Italics are flashbacks by the way! 
I hope y’all enjoy! 
Preview: 
“How do you think she’ll react to seeing you again, Master?” Anakin asks with a smirk on his face. They both step into the turbolift simultaneously after a small handful of representatives walk out first.
“I don’t know who you’re referring to,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, and very obviously lying. He wanted anything but to be having this conversation right now.
“You can’t think me to be that naïve, Master,” Anakin chuckles as the doors slide closed. It was just the two of them. “I remember her anyways,” he continues, while Obi-Wan’s heart sinks into his stomach. “I know I was very young when she left but I remember distinctly the way you looked at her.”
“It’s nothing that should be of any concern,” Obi-Wan replies, looking up at the ceiling- this already feeling like the longest turbolift he’s ever been in. They’d only gone up one floor before they were stopped and more people entered.
“I think you’re in love with her,” Anakin says so casually, and Obi-Wan coughs nervously because of the shock of Anakin’s words.
“A Jedi holds no attachments, Anakin,” he says, trying his best to take control over this conversation.
“Of course, Master,” Anakin replies sarcastically, holding back a scoff. He bites his lip to hold back a smile and decides to spare his Master of further embarrassment for now.
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“How do you think she’ll react to seeing you again, Master?” Anakin asks with a smirk on his face. They both step into the turbolift simultaneously after a small handful of representatives walk out first.
“I don’t know who you’re referring to,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, and very obviously lying. He wanted anything but to be having this conversation right now.
“You can’t think me to be that naïve, Master,” Anakin chuckles as the doors slide closed. It was just the two of them. “I remember her anyways,” he continues, while Obi-Wan’s heart sinks into his stomach. “I know I was very young when she left but I remember distinctly the way you looked at her.”
“It’s nothing that should be of any concern,” Obi-Wan replies, looking up at the ceiling- this already feeling like the longest turbolift he’s ever been in. They’d only gone up one floor before they were stopped and more people entered.
“I think you’re in love with her,” Anakin says so casually, and Obi-Wan coughs nervously because of the shock of Anakin’s words.
“A Jedi holds no attachments, Anakin,” he says, trying his best to take control over this conversation.
“Of course, Master,” Anakin replies sarcastically, holding back a scoff. He bites his lip to hold back a smile and decides to spare his Master of further embarrassment for now.
He sat on his bunk in the Padawan dormitories and the lamp next to his bunk was his only source of light. The night was pitch dark, not even any stars visible, and yet he sat in complete concentration as his hands worked with the beads he was working with. He knew he would get chastised if he was found up after curfew, but he was determined to finish this project before tomorrow.
He had created a necklace with a chain made of a thin strip of leather, and he was carefully feeding beads onto the material. The beads were dark jeweled tones, various dark greens and blues that complimented the dark brown of the leather. He had never made something so intricate before with just his hands, but it was his goal for it to be perfect. It had to be, for you. It was your thirteenth birthday and it needed to be special.
Traditionally, Padawans would receive a gift from their Masters, but he couldn’t help his desire to also present you with a gift. He knew it was wrong of him, but young Obi-Wan Kenobi harbored a very big crush on his dear friend. The guilt always affected him, but the feelings for you were much stronger than any guilt that tugs on his heartstrings.
The turbolift’s doors opened on the floor they needed and it snapped Obi-Wan out of his daydream where he had let himself wander into the past. He walked out first and Anakin followed. The were sent by the Jedi Consul to Coruscant as representatives for the Jedi Consul to meet with members of the Galactic Senate. There were rumors you would also be in attendance, accompanying the Senator from Alderaan, as you were sent there many years ago for your very extended mission with your late Master.
Walking into the conference room, Obi-Wan tried his best to keep a professional front. He was a very nervous wreck and he thought that his heart would leap from his chest. However, his heart deflated as his eyes scanned the room as there was no sign of you. Somehow, you not being there was in a way both better and worse for him. He hadn’t had this much trouble sorting out his emotions in years. He walked into the room and began shaking hands, introducing himself and Anakin to every Senator he had not yet met and catching up with the ones he’s known.
As people were getting seated around the oblong table, Obi-Wan noticed there were two seats across from him remained empty. He had only just sat down when the door opened again, two figures walking swiftly into the room, offering sincere apologies for their tardiness and then taking the two empty seats across from Obi-Wan and Anakin. A woman sat directly across from Anakin and a man Obi-Wan recognized as the Senator of Alderaan sat across from him. His fears and every other bottled-up emotion he had been dealing with bubbled to the surface again as he realized that the figure, he saw out of focus take the seat across from Anakin was you. The Vice Chair was sitting at one end of the table, and was making her opening remarks for the meeting when Obi-Wan made the fatal mistake of stealing a glance at you.
You were just as beautiful to him as ever. You didn’t look much different than when he last saw you all those years ago. Time, he decided, was much nicer to you than it was him. Your eyes were exactly as he remembered. Kind and incredibly expressive- intoxicating to him even. Of course, the last time he had seen you, you were a young, shy girl, and now you were a woman- holding yourself with confidence and grace, sitting up straight and doing a much better job of keeping yourself together on the outside than he was according to his perception.
And his heart stopped when he saw his necklace resting around your neck.
“Obi-Wan, it’s beautiful,” you marveled, pulling the necklace up out of the small box. “Help me put it on?” You asked, handing him the necklace before turning around and moving your hair out of the way.
“O-of course,” he replied nervously and fumbled with the clasp but did manage to help you get the necklace on.
“I love it,” you smile, holding your hand up to run your fingers across the smooth beads. “I’m never going to take it off.”
He grinned back at you, butterflies in his stomach looking at how it looked on you. Your whole face felt hot, and he knew he couldn’t help the blush rise on his face. Even at thirteen, he was in love with you. Of course, he was young and it wasn’t until much later on he realized he had loved you way back then. But nonetheless, he was undeniably in love with you.
“I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” you say with a smile. “Obi-Wan I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he manages to stutter. He follows your lead as you take a seat. You both sat under the tree in the courtyard of the temple. You both sit in silence for a few moments before you decide to speak again.
“Does it ever both you that you can never form attachments with someone?” You ask softly. “We’re not allowed to fall in love?”
“I-I suppose it does,” Obi-Wan answers, his heart beating so fast. It was like you could read every thought in his mind he had managed to close off as best as he could. “Does it bother you?”
“Yeah,” You admit. You look up at the sky as the colors signify that the sun is beginning to set and you both would need to go to dinner soon. “It’s frustrating… the rule is written like it’s something you can chose. No matter how hard I try, I can’t help how I feel at times…”
“I know how you feel,” he says softly, looking at you with his heart on his sleeve. “I- I really do. You have no idea.”
“Obi-Wan?” You say softly, even though you were alone you spoke in a hushed tone like someone would possibly hear.
“Yes?”
“I feel- I feel like that about you,” you admit, unable to look at him in case he was to reject you. You knew you shouldn’t- you both did. The feelings you held for him were too strong for you to suppress. You had two hopes, perhaps he would feel the same or he would talk you into reason.
You never imagined he would confess he felt the same. You also never imagined that he would lean over and place a quick kiss on your lips as a response, just overcome with the relief to know you felt the same. It was the first kiss either of you ever experienced.
How desperately he wanted to just pull you into his arms now. Despite the room of people, and the very important conversation he should be engaging in- his focus is solely on you. Anakin nudges him when a Senator directs a question their way and he tries his best to answer. He felt Anakin’s struggle to maintain a professional stature and Obi-Wan knew after the meeting his apprentice would be unable to hold back his comments.
The meeting went on for ages, and Obi-Wan just felt uneasy the entire time. When the meeting adjourned, he wasn’t sure how to approach you. You and the Senator you accompanied lingered like many others to chat. Anakin, before Obi-Wan could even think of what to do, confidently walked over to you as soon as the senator you were speaking to walked away.
“Master (Y/L/N),” Anakin said, “I don’t know if you remember me. Anakin Skywalker- I was a Padawan at the Temple right before you left on your mission. I’m sure you remember my Master, Master Kenobi.”
“I do remember you,” you say with a smile, looking between the young apprentice and the man who loved. You tried your best to remain civil, and you clearly sensed the amusement of young Skywalker at your and Obi-Wan’s discomfort. “You’ve grown up quite a bit.”
“That was the plan,” Anakin jests, “I’m going to say hello to the Senator Amidala.” And just like that, it left the two of you to face each other for the first time in years.
“Obi-Wan,” you say breathlessly, finally allowing yourself to address him. He looked amazing. He’s traded his braid for a beard, and he looked so distinguished. He always held himself with pride but now he looked the part of a Jedi Master- with an apprentice!
“I’m so happy to see you again,” he says with a smile, one that was clouded with an undertone of sadness. “How long will you be staying in the city?” He asks.
“Just for a few days and then I am returning back to Alderaan,” you reply. “If you have the time, I’d love to catch up?”
“I’d like nothing more,” Obi-Wan says, making you smile. You hated that the first time seeing him is in a place where you can’t just collapse in his arms and just immediately make up for the years away from him. You didn’t even know if he still felt the same as you did. You never stopped loving him. He had promised you the same all those years ago, but you were not expecting him to still hold those same feelings. You both committed yourselves to the Jedi Order and you cannot expect him to go back on those terms you both must adhere.
“Tonight?” You ask, hopefully.
“Tonight,” he confirms. He wanted nothing more than to leave this conference room. Sweep you away from the politics and the mess of the galaxy, to express his undying love and how the time apart just made him long for you. He’d pull you into him and beg you to return to the Temple with him so you could be in his life again.
“You should reign in that apprentice of yours,” you joke, looking over at Anakin with Senator Amidala, “You looked at me the same way,” you say, turning back to him. He chuckles, looking over at the two of them. “So anyways,” you say quickly, before he can respond to your observation, “I’m going to be staying at the Temple while I’m here, I suppose I’ll see you both there later on?”
“Yes, undoubtedly,” Obi-Wan answers. “I hate to leave, but I need to reign in my apprentice.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” you say nonchalantly.
“I’ll make sure to find you when we return,” he says, before heading towards Anakin and Senator Amidala.
You sigh, and begin your goodbyes, parting ways with the Alderaan Senator for the day. You start your journey back to the Temple, with Obi-Wan being the only thing on your mind.
Part Two
172 notes · View notes
wwilloww · 4 years
Text
unwind - m | knj
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Pairing: soft dom Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Smut. Explicit. 18+.
WC: 5.5k
Summary: You come home after a long, stressful day at work to your boyfriend, who does his best to cheer you up and remind you that you can always rely on him. Sometimes the best form of self-care is simply accepting affection and care from someone else.  
Warnings: softdom!Namjoon. Dom and sub play. Dirty talk. Spanking. Fingering. Oral sex (f receiving). Edging. Orgasm denial. Thigh riding. Begging. Unprotected sex within a committed relationship. Multiple orgasms. Creampie. Aftercare.
A/N: This story is a commission by an anonymous donor through @ficswithluv‘s Changes With Luv project. Thank you so much for your donation—I hope it lives up to your idea! I’m sending my whole heart out to the incredible Luna @moonchild-og​ and Ash @ot7always who beta read this very late last night! Also, shoutout to @meowxyoong @strawbxxymilk @randombtsprincessa @diedinwarofhormones for sharing their thirst for soft doms with me.
|| masterlist || ao3 ||
wwilloww ©️ do not repost, translate, or copy.
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The door seems particularly heavy as you close it behind you. You slump against it, dropping your bag on the floor as you close your eyes.
Today has been an absolute shitshow. Not only had the day been long and arduous, but your asshole boss seemed to have some kind of personal vendetta against you.
You take a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.
When you open your eyes, you are met with the sight of Namjoon reclined on your couch, a thick book held up to his face. He looks over the tome at you, an eyebrow raised.  
As he takes in your sinking shoulders and tired gaze, his excitement that you’re finally home shifts into concern. Immediately, he hops off the couch to come to you, slipping your coat off of your shoulders before wrapping you in a tight embrace.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” You untuck yourself and press a kiss to his lips. When you pull back you can see a crease forming between his brow, so you reach up to roll your thumb over his forehead, smoothing out the skin for him before bringing your hand down to cradle his cheek. “Everything’s fine.”
Namjoon tightens his grip around your waist, knowing you well enough to spot the tension in your posture.
“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll whip something up for dinner,” he prompts, brushing a strand of hair that has fallen out of your ponytail behind your ear.
“You? Cook?”
He nods eagerly.
“I have a new recipe I’ve been practicing.” He grins, pushing you lightly away from him. “Go. Shower. You’ll feel better.” You throw him a weak smile as you make your way to the back bedroom.
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You emerge from the bedroom twenty minutes later, smelling of balsam wood and lavender and wrapped in your softest sweatshirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
You wander into the kitchen, slipping quietly into one of the stools at the breakfast bar where Namjoon has left a glass of your favorite red wine. You sip the wine, pursing your lips together at the swirling bitterness that takes over your mouth. As you relish in the feeling of the cool liquid trickling down your throat, you prop up your head on your hand to watch Namjoon move around the kitchen, stirring noodles and chopping garlic and parsley.
“Babe, you look like you know what you’re doing,” you tease, sending him a wink.
“Of course I know what I’m doing!” he scoffs. He notices your wine glass is empty and makes his way around the bar with the bottle to fill it up. You eagerly offer him the glass. He fills it generously before pressing a quick kiss to your wine-stained lips.
As he turns away to return to the kitchen, you pull him towards you again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and deepening the kiss. He softens against you, letting his hands press into your lower back. However, he quickly remembers himself and pulls you away, a slight smirk on his face.
“First, you need to eat.”
He rounds the counter and proceeds to finish cooking, while you watch on with a slight pout. Your frown cracks into a gentle smile though as you study the care with which he carefully twists the pasta onto a dish and does his best to delicately sprinkle parsley on top.
He brings two identical plates to where you’re sitting. As he slides into the seat next to you, you twist so that you’re facing him, pulling his face to yours and kiss him deeply. Needing more, you tease his lips open with your tongue, sliding one hand up his thigh to squeeze the thick muscle. He kisses you back before tensing and pulling away.
“Babe, come on,” he groans, laughing.
“No, I want this,” you say, pushing your hand up until it meets the junction between hip and thigh. “I want you,” you look up innocently at him, doing your best impression of doe eyes, even as you move your hand to trace his quickly forming bulge.
His gaze hardens from playful to something more serious. He shows no sign of being affected by your increasingly distracting hand and instead picks up your fork and twirls a noodle around it, bringing it to your mouth.
“Eat or nothing else happens tonight.”
You smile sheepishly up at him and open your mouth. He feeds you until you take the fork from him and finish your meal.
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“You had a tough day?” Namjoon finally asks as you finish your plate.
“No, everything’s fine.”
Namjoon watches as your brow creases. You always do this. You come home after a difficult day, and think it would be a burden to your boyfriend to share the details. So you keep them to yourself, unsuccessfully pretending that nothing has happened. Namjoon loves that you care so deeply about the way other people feel, but he hates that you do this—that you feel you need to hold back—with him.
So he sighs and puts down the dish he’s currently holding to turn to you.
“Babe, I know something’s wrong. Right?”
You pause, mulling over your options before deciding to tell him.
“Yeah,” you murmur, dropping your gaze.
“I’m not saying you need to tell me the details. I know you need time to process these kinds of things. But I also don’t want you to...to hold back from me simply because you think it’ll burden me in some way.” You meet his eyes. Instead of pity or even frustration, there’s softness there. “I’m an adult. If I can’t handle something, I’ll let you know. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide from me or lie to me to keep me happy.”
You sigh and put your dish down so you can wrap your arms around his waist.
“I know. Thank you, Joon.” You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “I know I do this a lot. I promise I’ll work on it.”
He smiles at you.
“How can I help?”
“Is it possible to fuck the frustration away?” you tease.
You watch as something dark flashes in his eyes.
“Sure is.” He bends down to kiss you. “Will you let me take care of you?”
“Joonie, that—that’s not what I meant. You don’t have to.”
“Babe, I want to.”
“No, really, this is my shit, it’s my bad day—”
“Get on the bed.”
“What?”
“Leave your clothes at the door and get on the bed.” His voice has dropped, deep and serious, signaling his switch into his more dominating persona. “Let me take care of you.”
You leave your plate where it is and start down the hall, tugging off your sweatshirt. It’s quick work undressing, seeing as you’re only really wearing two items of clothing. As you slide your shorts down your legs you know Namjoon’s eyes are on you. You put an extra ounce of energy into slowing down the process and arching your back slightly—just enough to let his gaze linger. You peek back at him as you stand, now naked, and trail your hand over your bare skin. A soft chuckle echoes from behind you as Namjoon dumps the dishes in the sink, a task for tomorrow.
Knowing he’s shortly behind you, you step into the bedroom completely naked, and plop down on the bed.
“You know what I want, babe. Ass up.”
You smirk at him before flipping over onto your belly, kicking up your legs playfully. You rest your head on your arms as you watch Namjoon lean against the doorframe. He tugs at the top button of his shirt, his gaze roving over you: Roving over the slight valley of your lower back, the waterfall of hair against your neck, the sweet swell of your ass. He could watch you all day but knowing that he gets to touch, too, that knowledge means that just studying your form will never be enough.
He strides towards you, unbuttoning his shirt as he walks without entirely untucking it.
The bed dips under his weight as he comes behind you, swinging one knee over you so that he’s effectively straddling your upper thighs. He smooths a large palm over the smooth swell of your ass, first one cheek then the other. You melt into the sensation, his light but spanning touch raising goosebumps all over your body. He brings a second hand down on your ass, now mirroring his ministrations on each side, roving in large circles.
Slowly, he works his way upwards, palms spreading across your lower back. He’s gentle at first, hands warming you up against the cool air of the bedroom. But then his touch becomes heavier. He uses the heel of his palm to knead into the flesh and muscle of your back. Gradually he works his way up along the curve of your spine, left hand mirroring right, each one delightfully heavy as he digs into the tension you’re holding in your body.
Namjoon hits a particularly tight knot in your shoulder. As he fluctuates between the dancing pads of his fingers and the deep pressure of the heel of his hand, it slowly unravels. You groan at the painful pleasure of the pressure releasing and you know he’s smirking from behind you as he continues to work at it until he’s satisfied that he’s released it.  
“I know you had a hard day, kitten, but you should know that I’m going to take care of you—no matter what. No matter what it is that you need.” His hands come down to smooth over your back, brushing back and forth, redistributing the stagnating energy that he’s dug up. “I keep telling you this. Do you need me to remind you again?”
You nod furiously.
He leans down so that when he speaks his voice feels like it's brushing over your ear.
“You remember your safeword, love?”
You nod and mumble a soft “Mhmm.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Kaleidoscope.”
“Good girl.”
He watches as a faint blush begins to creep up your neck at the use of the pet name. Gently, he unstraddles you and pulls you up to your knees, maneuvering you to his own will. He moves so that he is sitting on the edge of the bed, and pats his lap. As if it’s second nature, you obediently lay yourself across him so your ass is up in the air.
“You know exactly what to do,” Namjoon muses, almost more to himself than to you. He runs his hand over the dip of your lower back and the rounded curve of your ass. “So pretty, just for me.”
You push up into his hand involuntarily at his words.
“Do you know why I’m doing this?”
“To remind me,” you say.
“Yes. And?”
“And?” you twist back to try to gauge his expression, but he pushes your head back down.
“And because you were so greedy earlier. Trying to get me hard at dinner, trying to get me to fuck that needy cunt in the kitchen of all places.”
Your cunt clenches around nothing and Namjoon grins when he sees the subtle movement.
“So eager, already? I haven’t even gotten started with you.”
“Plea—”
You’re cut off as his hand comes down on your ass. It’s a light slap, more of a practice run than what he knows you can take—than what he knows you crave. Still, the smallest of oh’s slips past your lips. As he runs his hand over your backside in a circular motion, you press your ass back into his touch, desperate for more.
“Is that alright?” he asks, knowing that you’re one to lean into the sting of his hand, but still wanting to check in with you.
“Yes, please, more.”
Namjoon doesn’t need any further convincing. His hand comes down on you—hard. Hard enough to elicit a gasp from you. You bite your lip to hold back the sinful sounds that threaten to escape. His hand comes down again—and again—and on the fifth hit you groan, loudly. You can feel him harden beneath you.
“Good girl. You’re doing so well.” Despite his obvious arousal, he does nothing but focus on the sensation of his hand hitting your supple flesh and the sight of you beneath him.
Above you, Namjoon watches as after each spank your body relaxes further in his grasp. Each strike feeds the healthy glow beneath his palm and he smiles because even as your breathing picks up, the tension you’re subconsciously holding in your body begins to slip away, allowing for a new kind of tension to grow between your legs.
His hand comes down a final time and you whimper beneath its strength.
“Okay, love. I think that’s enough for now.” He begins to pull you up, turning so he’s got one leg hanging off the bed and you’re sat upright on your knees between his legs. “You did so well.” He wraps his arms around your waist, coming to gently squeeze your ass, knowing how sensitive you must be. As you sigh into his touch, he leans in to kiss you, his lips moving tenderly over yours. “You always look so pretty for me, bent over my lap.” You flush at the praise, leaning back to push a loose strand of hair out of your mouth.
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he helps move the hair out of your face.
“Much better,” you smile sweetly as you bask in the sunlight of the endorphins rushing through you.
“Better than before?”
“Mhmm. Thank you.” You press your lips against his once more before starting to slide off the bed. You move between his legs, fingers running over the leather of his belt. He’s still entirely dressed, although his shirt is hanging obscenely open, his toned chest shining softly with sweat. You tug gently on his belt, eyes looking up through your lashes and pleading.
You look gorgeous like this, on your knees, eyes wide and wet. Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, letting his head fall back just enough to expose his neck to you and groans. He reaches down to stroke your cheek as you fumble with his belt buckle.
“Darling,” he murmurs. “You are so good on your knees for me. I love it when you suck my cock—but not now.”
You pout slightly. “But, Joon, I want to make you feel good.”
“You will,” Namjoon smiles gently. “But nothing feels better than you being a good girl and listening to me.”  
He wants to say that watching the tension unravel itself from your body is what makes him feel good. That watching a smile grow softly on your face feels like heaven, or that seeing you unwind beneath him, underneath his touch, is the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.
“But—”
“No. You heard what I said.”
Your pout deepens. He knows he’s not going to be able to talk you out of this, so instead, he diverts your attention.
“Go lay down.”
“I—”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow and you shut your mouth.
“Go lay down and put your hands above your head.”
You do as he asks, moving slowly until your head is resting on a short stack of pillows. You arrange yourself, knees together and hands twisted above your head. With a smirk, you spread your knees apart, revealing your inner thighs, glistening with sweat and arousal.
He watches you do this and raises an eyebrow.
“Someone’s feeling extra needy tonight, hm?” Still, he doesn’t hesitate to crawl towards you, pushing your knees even farther apart as he settles between them, still dressed.
For a moment you think he’ll stop the teasing and finally press his lips against your clit. As if reading your mind he grins up at you as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“You should know better.”
You groan in frustration, reaching down to pull his chin to where you want him. With a growl, he pins your hand back above your head and sits up slightly.
“You do know better, don’t you?” The threat is implicit in his tone: do as he’s asked or he’ll stop. You nod sheepishly. “Words, baby.”
“Yes, I’ll do what you’ve asked.”
“Good girl. Anything I want?”
You nod. “Whatever you want.”
He slowly lowers himself back to your stomach, kissing up your soft belly until he meets the slope of your breasts. He wraps his lips around your right nipple, teasing it softly, sucking, and rolling it around in his mouth. And then—oh—his teeth graze over the sensitive bud. As he continues to suckle at each nipple, your groans become louder and you squirm up into him.
Namjoon is still fully clothed and your burning skin finds little relief against the rough texture of the fabric. Still, you press up, closer to him.
Namjoon chuckles and you look down to find his lips pursed perfectly around your breast, his tongue flickering out to tease the already-bruising skin and the hard bulb of your nipple.
“God, you look wild right now, babe,” he murmurs against your skin.
“Joonie—” you gasp as he bites down particularly painfully. “I need more.”
Usually, Namjoon would draw things out or scold you for being so vocal. But alongside the dominating personality that he regularly assumes in the bedroom, tonight something softer sings alongside that hard edge. Tonight, he wants to see you unravel for him.  
You suck in a sharp breath as he pushes one long finger into your cunt without warning. Your body tenses as he begins to draw it in and out—and then quickly relaxes as he finds his pace.
He adds a second finger as he lowers his head to wrap his lips around your clitoris. With his other hand, he pushes down on your stomach, quelling the desperate movements of your hips to get more of him, to get closer to him. As he sucks on the delicate bud, it swells, pulsing rhythmically beneath his attentions. You gasp.
Namjoon gazes up at you through the swell of your breasts, watching the way your brow furrows and mouth gapes in pleasure. You can feel his lips spread into a grin against you and you look down to find him drowning in his own intensity, his shirt slipping down his shoulder, only to throw your head back again as he adds a third finger and scissors them apart.
“So obedient. You’re taking everything I give you.”
“Mhmm,” you manage to mumble through clenched teeth. “For you—”
“For me, baby girl? Just for me?” All you can do is nod stiffly as a tremor of pleasure races through you, eliciting the sweetest sounding moan from you. “That’s right, love, moan for me. You sound so gorgeous when you make those pretty little sounds.”
Your back arches as he hits a particularly spongy spot within you. As you do, he sucks extra hard on your clit, sending stars shooting up and down your spine and into your vision.
“Can I come?” you plead, breath coming in short gasps. “I-I’m so close.”
“No, baby. Hold on a little longer for me.”
Still, he doesn’t falter in his punishing pace. If anything, he picks up the speed and force. You whimper beneath him, squirming and twisting the sheets by your head between your fingers.
You do your best to hold on to the pleasure that is coiling so tightly in your belly, to hold it there, just at the edge—but then suddenly his pattern changes and you’re tipping over.
“Joon—I-I can’t—I’m gonna—”
“No,” he growls. And then as quickly as he had begun, his touch, his tongue is gone and all that is left is the cool air of the bedroom.
Tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you lift your head to see Namjoon sitting back, his mouth set in a hard line.
“I told you not to come.”
“I was so close,” you whine as you throw your head back on the pillow.
“When you come, it’ll be around my cock or not at all.”
You sit up again, crawling over to him. You tug on the loose ends of his shirt.
“Then fuck me,” you say, making your eyes big and wide just for him. You know he always goes a little weak when you do this.
His eyes grow large and he pulls you against him to kiss you furiously. He quickly slips his tongue between your lips and swipes it against the roof of your mouth. You groan into him, pressing closer, finding his clothed thigh between your legs. Unabashedly, you grind down on it, your clit rubbing against the rough material.
“Shit,” he murmurs against you, taking one of your lips between his teeth.
You continue to circle your hips against his leg, undoubtedly ruining the pants. Namjoon bites down on your lip, causing you to yelp into his mouth.
“I love to see you this desperate,” he groans. “So worked up that you’re going to use my thigh to cum, huh? Is that enough for you? Are you so fucking desperate for me that you’ll get yourself off on my thigh when you can’t get my fingers or my tongue?”
“Yes, god, yes.” Your movements become erratic as the tension he left broken within you minutes ago quickly rebuilds.
At this point your arousal has soaked entirely through the fabric of his trousers, leaving the skin beneath it wet and sticky. You’re so close, if you could just get a little closer, a little more, a—
“Stop.”
The word cuts through your blissed-out haze. You slow but don’t stop.
“I said, stop.” Namjoon's hands come down on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he halts your movements. “My girl is having trouble listening today, hm?” He takes a finger to tilt your chin up as you whine and continue to try to press against him. His fingers dig deeper into your hips. That’ll definitely leave a mark for tomorrow, and the thought of it has your cunt clenching. “What did I say about cumming?”
“Not to,” you frown.
“Unless?”
“Unless it's on your cock.”
“Good girl.”
He presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Joonie, I can’t wait anymore.”
Looking down at you, he can see that. You’re covered in sweat, love bites, and fresh bruises. Your skin is so delightfully flushed and the look in your eyes is desperate. So slowly, he nods his consent and lets you unbutton the remaining button on his shirt and slip if off his shoulders.
He watches as you unbutton his trousers and needily push them down just enough that you can slide the band of his boxers down and slip your hand inside. His cock springs free, the tip an angry red and leaking precome.
“You’re so hard for me.”
You wrap your hand around the base, stroking up once torturously slow. He loves the way your hand looks wrapped around him, and when you look up there’s a new fire in his eyes. He’s held back for about an hour, untouched, and now that your beautiful hand is stroking up and down his length, every sensation feels wildly intense.
You let go of him to reach down in between your legs and slide two fingers into your cunt to collect the slick that has gathered there. Without breaking eye contact, you wrap your hand around his cock again, spreading your wetness onto his length.
“Fuck.”
He freezes for a moment before springing into action.
Before you know what’s happening, Namjoon has wrapped his arms around your torso and is flipping you over onto your belly. The air wooshes out of you as you hit the bed, but he’s done this enough times that he knows exactly how to cradle your fall. You start to twist back to him to see what he’s doing, but he moves quickly, pressing your thighs together and coming to straddle you, similarly to how he had when he massaged you earlier. He leans over you, pushing your shoulder down so you’re facing forward again.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget everything except for this cock. How it feels inside of you, filling you,” he whispers in your ear, raising goosebumps over every inch of your skin.  
And then his movements slow. His hands disappear and you’re left touchless, squirming on the bed.  
“I-I want it,” you whine, lifting your hips up just enough that your glistening folds brush back against his cockhead. You do your best to push back onto him, to get him inside, to fill you, but his hand comes down to press on your lower back, his fingers spreading out in a fan against your skin. He pushes your spine into a delightful arch, successfully restraining your movements.
Normally you love his calculated movements: the simplicity and strength that this kind of gesture has to put you exactly in the position that he wants you in usually has goosebumps peppering your skin and a shot of adrenaline heightening all sensation. And that remains true in this moment. However, the coil in your stomach is quickly unwinding and you’re left aching for something more, for him.
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Ngh—yes,” you groan, squirming against him.
“Baby, I need more than that. Use your words.” Still, he doesn’t move and instead pushes down on your back so your movements are further limited.
“I want your cock. I want your cum,” you gasp. “I want everything,” you add with a shaky breath, knowing that although you being wordy isn’t going to speed up the process, it will make Namjoon harder.
You can almost hear the smirk that spreads across his face.
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, yes, Joonie, please. I need you.”
Namjoon reaches down to grip the base of his cock and slides it against your slick folds.
“Hm, but this feels so good. I could do this all day.”
“KIM NAMJOON. If you don’t put your fucking cock in my cunt right this second I will march into the bathroom, lock the door, and finish this myself.”
Namjoon fucking laughs—a big, hearty, jubilant laugh that echoes around the room—as you wriggle beneath his weight in your best display of anger.
Finally, finally, he slots the head of his cock against your entrance and leans over to whisper against your ear.
“I don’t want you to think that that comment is going to go unpunished,” he whispers. The hair on the back of your neck rises with the promise, but your next comment is quickly silenced by a roll of his hips as he slides the first inch of his cock into you.
This is nothing like his fingers. He’s girthy, filling you to the brim. The slight stretch of his cock against your sensitive walls straddles the delicate line between pain and pleasure and you groan as he slides further into you.
He begins at a slow pace, his hips rolling forward into you. In this position, it feels like your walls are sucking him in.
“God, you look so good taking my cock.” Namjoon moans. He can’t take his eyes off the way your lower lips part around him, the way he seamlessly glides in and out of you. Each time he withdraws, he comes out glistening in a mix of your arousal and his precome.
He comes down to rest on his elbows, in the process shifting his hips slightly up. With this new leverage, he begins to drive into you with a new ferocity. The slight shift has him hitting your g-spot. As he continues to pound against that soft spot within you, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his forearm and press your face into the pillow.
There were times when Namjoon took extreme pleasure in tying you up and refusing to let you touch him. But now he wanted nothing more than to be as pressed as close to you as possible. As he lowers his weight onto you and onto his forearms, he can feel the muscles of your back and hips ripple beneath him as you thrust back in tandem to his own pace.
“You feel so big,” you moan.
You don’t usually cum without direct clitoral stimulation, but after being unwound just to be riled up again and then left on the edge of your orgasm, the repeated pounding against your g-spot is consistently building up a warm pressure at the front of your pelvis. You dig your nails into Namjoon’s skin and feel him press harder into you. Between the comforting weight of his body and his unyielding thrusts, you can feel your orgasm quickly rising within you.
“Joonie—” you gasp.
“I can feel how close you are,” he groans, sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m so close, Joonie, please, can I—”
“Cum, baby. Cum for me.”
At his command, you press back into him and dig your fingers into his arm. Your vision goes white as pleasure ripples through your pelvis and outwards, into your belly, your limbs. You vaguely understand that Namjoon is still grinding his hips into you, helping you ride out your orgasm as long as possible. You continue to clench around him and he hisses.
“Shit.”
Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut, doing his best to hold back from drilling into you. Instead, he circles his hips against you, grinding into your still-clenching walls as he guides you down from your orgasm. Your breath is coming in pants and huffs now, and you turn your head so that you’re looking up at him. He’s got that precious fold in his brow that appears when he’s close but holding back.
“Babe, I need—” he grunts.
“I know, I know,” you weakly lift your arm to stroke his burning cheek. “It’s okay.”
He finally lets go, allowing his pace to stutter and falter against you, morphing from a circular grind into something more primal. At this point, he’s chasing his own pleasure in a way that you almost never see. He’s still hitting your most sensitive spots and you groan in overstimulation.
All of a sudden, you’re coming again.
“I-” is all you can stutter, a long, silent groan shaping your swollen lips into a perfect O. As you come, you reach up behind you and grab onto his neck, your nails raking down the sensitive skin. All he needs is to feel the blood rise to the surface and see your neck arched back for him to come undone. His hips stutter into you, and with one final, deep thrust, he presses as deep as he can and lets go. His pleasure unravels in his stomach and you can feel him spurt again and again within you.  
Seconds after he’s come, he’s rolling off you, exposing you to the chilled air of the room—but he doesn’t want to crush you. As if reading his mind you say, “I like you on top of me, like the weight.”
He chuckles at the sleepy lilt in your voice.
“I know babe, I just don’t want to crush you.”
“You won’t.”
Namjoon doesn’t argue. He knows you become stubborn when you’re sleepy. Instead, he rolls you gently onto your back and comes to press himself almost chastely against your lips. You smile into the kiss, sliding your hands into his hair.
“God, you’re perfect,” he whispers into your shoulder, giving you a gentle bite before pulling back to look at you. He wants to spend the rest of the week in bed, tracing the features of your face like this: relaxed, blissful, unquestioning. Instead, he savors your expression for one final moment and brushes a sweaty piece of hair out of your eyes. Namjoon rolls off the bed and walks to the bathroom where he grabs a clean towel and dampens it. He almost doesn’t recognize his reflection in the mirror, hair unkempt, cheeks flushed, skin glistening with sweat—and something unrecognizable in his eyes. He splashes his face with water before returning to the bedroom where he sits gently on the edge of the bed. You’re already starting to fall asleep, but he runs his hand over your forehead and your eyes flutter open.
“You did so well for me baby,” he coos as he first wipes your brow before moving down your body and wiping away the mixed cum from your still-dripping cunt.
“Yes,” you mumble, lids heavy with sleep. “‘M good for you.”
“Yes, good for me. So good for me. I’d even say you earned yourself a reward.”
“Can my reward be you cuddling me?” You reach out, eyes closed at this point, trying to grab at him.
“Sure, baby.”
He reaches up to cup your cheek, running the rough pad of his thumb over your warm flesh. You sigh into his touch, nuzzling closer. He tosses the wet towel in the direction of the bathroom and climbs into bed, pulling you gently into his chest.
“Mm, love you, Joonie.” He feels more than hears you mumble into his neck.
“I love you too.”
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