#when i get into Room Cleaning Mode its like. all consuming. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daze4all · 20 days

Text

From the 7 Days of Sugar Daddy Series: Blade’s Extension with Smut

Thursday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories

Synopsis: Smut, Fluff. & Bit Angst Cuz This Blade – Angry sex with Blade and Playing with Blade’s Hair , SFW & NSFW Parts. Nurse play? Hair pettings, Oral, riding, some bondage, emotional sex, hate sex, marastruck blade, yandere blade, sugar daddy blad, implied prostitution.

SFW: Introduction: Job to Soothe the Mara introduced by Kafka

Side Note Imagine: if Reader thought she was caretaking a cat not a guy cuz Grumpy cat Blade lol

The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider and like spider she weaved you into the web to capture a flower and delivered you to the beast called blade. “Help me help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to get free.

Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him form consuming you whole.

There was no doubt what Blade wanted. You did help clean up the base from time to time as housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.

But his treatment also reminded you of your place your duty and you did get some pleasure and satisfaction from the directness of doing your job it was clear cut simple. And always lead to them wanting the same thing: sex

SFW: Reader Introduction by Kafka to Blade

Blade was resistant at first “What the hell is this” seeing you all dolled up. A bright flower in his bedroom weak fragile and sure to break if he touched it.

“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during missions and practice. Instead take out your steam and occupy yourself with pleasurable activates, have fun~ “ Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both.

“What the shall I show you? You teased at first snapping into work mode. He was raterh acctrative in dark dangeoru way.

Don’t touch me” he snapped obctough nut to crack. Most of the time you dealt with good guy ones who didn’t know your other services but sometimes a bad boy was what you needed to tease and be teased who knew this was game or transaction of sorts. Although this was unique situation being hired by someone else to loosen a guy up….

“hmm? well anything else I can do? I and cook and clean” You offered and hummed tilting head back analyzing him wondering how to manage this grumpy cat to get the job done.

And so, a deal was struck and that’s what you did while at the station until he started to become more comfortable with you enough that he came to his room injured when cleaning up.

---NSFW: Smut Starts Playing Nurse & Patching up Blade x Reader---

“Oh god your hurt” you gasped noticing red bleeding through his bandages. You sat next to him on the bed and crossing your legs letting your bottoms ride up.

Don’t worry its healed Blade answered gruffly pulling away.

“Still, it must hurt. Where are your medical supplies?” You asked already digging through his stuff for bandages to wind around his wound softly gasp at scars littering his body.

You were kind, caring, innocent and so unknowing. Blade seethed the mara in him rising wanting to ruin that purity. (and stop you going through his stuff)

Your careful ministrations heating up his senses.

“How foolish” he rasped as he reached for your hand interrupting you rolling the bandage roll as it falls unraveling on the ground.

“Fine you want to do this? Strip” Blade says gruffly pulling at your clothes

----Smut with Blade---

Quickly tables are turned. You situated between his legs on the ground licking at his length.

“Ah you whore” he mocks as you lapped his length. His hand threaded through your hair tugging, holding hard.

As you swallowed him so his hum of pleasure led to his hitched breath restraining a moan.

Defiance rose in you as you met his challenge face on. While he was aroused you eased him down with hand to his chest and seated yourself on his hard on. Unbalanced he him fell back on the bed slightly against the headboard as you pushed the initiative “I am good at what I do”

Blade tightened his grip in warning ground down on his hard on a but also pressing you close like he cannot bear you to be away.

Despite his harsh words his actions rang true. Blade wanted you with his dark hooded eyes intently fixed on you swaying form riding him.

“Wet as fuck” he swore melting into your folds in between moans. Swearing to cover up any sounds.

“Whore” he called you squeezing you holding you up by your legs thrusting upward into your warmth. He fucked you resentfully as if you were someone he hated.

“But right now, I’m here making you feel so good” you coo mockingly and as reminder to snap him back to the present moment.

“Shut up” Blade grasps your hands and holds your arms above you head on the bed’s headboard. Blades blunt tip catching your wet hole fucking his frustration and his madness into you.

“That’s right…punishment for such a slut”

“Ahh!” you moaned breathless at the speed and stamina. Blade’s stamina was scary almost like he didn’t sleep.

Bit Sad emotional & Rough sex here-

“Damned fool”

Blade mumbled darkly into your shoulder onto to be tossed on you back speared doggy style his mouth and teeth scraping, sucking, and biting tearing at your shoulder to leave a mark.’

“Cheater “

“Blade?” Unsure he was addressing you did he know?

Blade growled. Lost deep in his madness and musings you permitted it though you hated it. A mark from one meant many more to come as men were so possessive.

Hair intermingled and overlapped forming a curtain cutting him off from eyesight intensifying the feeling with one sense cut off.

“Don’t you dare leave “Eyes aglow burning with hate not directed at you. Perhaps himself or an unknown enemy.

bright flame eyes blazing.

“I’m here right now “ you soothe stroking his head a gentle touch to contrast to his rough treatment of you.

His eye dimming hazy before reigniting with a light only push you harder.

Only to flicker back intently focused on your form.

“Liar “ his angry growl hit deep as did his hips burying into your gummy walls.

“ah more” you plead. As his attention snapped back to you. Blade burying and bullying into your warmth.

“Stay” he ordered yes dark.

“ For the night and day” you cooed vindictively if he thought of others you could have them too. This riled up his competitiveness shifting his focus back to you in fury.

“Fuck so tight” Blade’x tone visceral as he swore as he rocked into you.

Mph there you gasped as he hit the right spot and he obliged pistoning his hips.

“Then let’s make the most of it” he growled annoyed by your answer but focused back on you.

“Fuck them, Your mine” Blade growls over and over as he ruts into you. A man of few but intense words. Blade voice a hoarse cry in his release with yours quick to follow.

Yandere!Blade smothering and burning you whole and inside out with his fierce raging emotions and roughness. Until the blaze fizzled out into ember exhausted in the sheets

After Care: Yandere Blade: Patching Up Bruises & Bitemarks with Blade

During aftercare, his touches sometimes fade softer, lingering, and clingy rather than hard and grasping. Once Blade grunted out a soft “Sorry” as he patched up your bruises. Eyes like candle steady but flickering in and out of clarity but always so intense.

His face furrowed with concentration as he patched you up. Admiring and yet remorseful. Disgusted yet proud of the marks his lovemaking made.

“Those who keep you from me, I can cut them down” threatened Blade his hand lingering before settling on your thigh a gentle pressure that tightened with his threat. A sweet gesture to protect you he thought. The closest he would come to kind.

The pressure on you bruised of your thigh a physical reminder as insidious and brutal as his love. Careless and all consuming, maa struck with madness to taking until none was left if you didn’t control, the situation.

“There is no need, this is my choice, my life” you were quick to assure him plus no matter however strong he was. Blade was a fugitive, and you were the lover of multiple powerful men. None who were willing to give you up…

Enough that they were willing to share.

You were playing dangerous game and wondered when they would snap. You always suspected; Blade might be the first…

AfterCare: Blade Stay & Sleep Together

“I thought we were done.” you questioned gently easing out of his tight hold of your wrists to leave the bed.

“Come. Back “ Blade orders solemn and soft on the bed looking like forlorn puppy.

“I will, if that’s what you want” you paused surprised as you thought he would want you gone once the deed was done.

“Stay “ Blade ordered” gruffly. To your surprise he wrapped in his arms around you like his blade and dragged you back into the bed from behind. You froze unsure what to do next, but he just held onto you like one of the broken blade he held onto fervently.

“Just…sleep” He stated having noticed your exhaustion. So strong and yet so broken…you weren’t sure if it hurt or helped to be with him and vice versa, to see him like this. But better to not be alone.

“Okay.” You relaxed in his arms to stay the night and cuddle. A bit surprised thinking it was round two maybe.

You returned the embrace to which he stiffened before relaxing. You held each other quietly both exhausted but comforted by each other’s presence on the bed until you both dropped off into sleep.

Extra: Soothing to Sleep, Playing with Hair ,& Musing on The Past

Soft Sad Fluff & Angst Context optional for Renfeng fans~ kinda NTR past relationship alluded idk?

After you both had fallen asleep, once you had woken up to find him still asleep. Often it was him waking you up with night terrors or to go back to the deed to distract him from his dark thoughts.

Blades eyelashes long dark soft breath in sleep. You push back a strand of his hair that was fallen. A silky strand of navy blue fading to blood red. Being Mara struck you wondered how much he remembers.

If he had seen, you in the past present future or another time or place… At this thought you clenched a strand bit tighter before dropping it and smoothing it back in place

You froze as Blade shifted in his sleep and furrowing his brow in nightmare as if he might wake up.

You stroked Blade’s head to soothe him back to sleep and luckily he settled with snore and grumble “pay…fool”

You mulled over the swears spoken in the height of passion. More than dirty talk. More than just you…the cheater …the liar ….the damned fool.

The way he had of saying it.

His clouded eyes if seeing someone else before fucking you back to reality with ferocity.

A blaze of clarity and guilty gentle aftercare treatment of patching up any bruise or bites afterwards with practiced hands.

The hate fucking, Blade directed at you for release. It made you wonder sometimes if he was talking about someone else when fucking you.

It was hard you thought to be battling a ghost and be treated as a substitute when it should be focused on solely on you…It hurt your pride. But also made you curious did he remember?

A strange pattern from your most dangerous client. When you were with him you thought sadly. The most trouble by far but you shook it off as you only there to distract him, soothe his mara, and make him feel pleasure.

However, your hand still lingered stroking Blade’s head as if to soothe the sadness and mara in sleep.

Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories (Somehow I did it folks after angsty hot hate sex I made Blade a cold, soft and sad boi.

155 notes · View notes

chronosh0t · 3 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ「 ༄៎ .*ೃ 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: male x Lee, canon-divergence? perhaps, explicit content if you squint hard enough, my own commandant (Zenas) because using the same pronouns can be confusing. ㅤㅤㅤ〔NO BETA〕ㅤㅤ MDNI！

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: so, you know the horns? well, now it's the back... you need to read the horns one since it's lowkey a continuation of it.

✂…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Zenas was not having it today. Honestly speaking, he's never having it actually, because every day in Babylonia seemed like hell with all the work he has to do no matter what hour of the day, not to mention dealing with dipshits believing they are some superior beings just for having a “title”.

His anger piling up with each passing second and the lack of proper sleep didn't help, not even a bit. Unfortunately, skipping work wasn't part of his options, considering he had already postponed finishing some maintenance and files. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a few minutes of free time in between and relax a bit in the lounge.

Lee's new frame maintenance was over as well. He was now back to Hyperreal however that means he was also having double the jobs to take care of, as the only frame that could fight directly with the virus without getting infected and corrupted, almost every team in Babylonia wanted him. It was definitely not something Zenas was loving. Lee was his.

So, after working for five minutes, he decided it was time for a well deserved break of an hour. Humming a song he couldn't remember when he heard it first, his legs were taking him to his favourite room, where his favourite construct was now either reading a complicated book about maths just for fun or…working. In any case, Zenas wanted to see him.

Reaching the door, he knocked twice and waited for a response, a calm voice that'd let him in. But nothing came. He went for another two knocks, this time, he added more strength, waited again. Silence. Overly anxious and worried that something might have happened to Lee, he rushed inside. The room was clean and not a single book was out of its place. It was too quiet.

He slowly made his way and there he was. Constructs don't need to sleep, they don't feel tired, but Lee was… sleeping? Or you could say he was in some hibernation mode, he would usually do that when his M.I.N.D was overloaded from working outside, on earth. Sitting on a chair, his arms crossed over the table and his head resting on them. His eyelashes would flicker a little, as if he wanted to wake up but couldn't, blond hair a bit messed up. He looked extremely adorable.

Zenas’ eyes roamed around and stopped at his back. Lee's jacket had a back window cutout, so it was exposed. He could see the details of his frame as well as that blue light coming from specific parts. There was an itching sensation on Zenas' fingers, he wanted to touch. His hand was a few centimetres from Lee's back when he suddenly felt a deja vu. Didn't he do something similar before? Oh, right, how could I forget. Palefire's horn…

He thought, and kept thinking. If Palefire's horn were so sensitive, then what about his back? The more he looked at his back, the more he wanted to try and test his theory. Might as well risk it all if it means he would get a similar reaction. So, not restraining himself, Zenas let his mind go free and his hand rested on Lee's back. Fingertips tracing every single line with a delicacy he never had before for anyone else.

There was no reaction, probably because Lee was in that state but when he was already thinking of retracting his hand a soft moan filled the room. Zenas' hand stopped, and then moved his finger again. Another moan. He was smiling, as expected, his back was also sensitive and that single thought started to consume his sanity and left nothing but desire to keep teasing the blond Construct.

ㅤㅤㅤ“What do you think you're doing?”

The voice startled him, Lee was awake, and he was fucking angry.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Fucking hell, you scared the shit out of me.” Zenas answered, giggling at the situation. Because yes, Lee was angry but he also knew the boy would never do anything to him, and if Zenas was brutally honest, Lee looked hot.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You didn't answer my question.” he said, standing from the chair and taking some distance by walking a bit further away from the human, his hands already tapping on a screen.

ㅤㅤㅤ“You're sensitive all over. Just wanted to tease you.”

Denying it was stupid. Besides, he knew Lee very well, and he was completely sure the boy was flustered as hell because he would always resort to work and focus on whatever is in front of him in order to avoid eye contact. That's what he was going now, looking away, pretending to be focused on something else and ignoring Zenas' presence in the room.

But Lee was too fully aware. His cheeks were red and he hated himself for being so damn weak. Zenas was shortening the distance between them, there was nowhere to run or hide, Lee's mechanical heart was beating way too fast for his own good.

He felt shivers the moment the human's fingers touched his back again. Tracing in circles and Lee couldn't avoid remembering that day when he was messing around with Palefire's horn, how he was touching him, how Lee reacted to that and what he said before leaving. No amount of cold water could've subdued the heat climbing up to his body.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Are you thinking about that day?” Zenas whispered in his ears, soft lips touching him, that familiar voice reverberated inside of him, echoing and leaving marks. He gripped tightly the pen he was writing some reports and broke it in pieces.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Shall we continue, babe?” Zenas said, keeping one of his hands on Lee's back, while the other was going into places Lee wished he didn't have.

The human's body was hot, pressed against Lee and the latter was losing it. He could feel his pulse reaching a speed he never experienced, not even when fighting the most difficult and dangerous ascendant out there. It was hard to keep his voice down, especially when Zenas was leaving pepper kisses all over his neck, ears, and one of his hands playfully touching his inner thighs.

Zenas was a bit impatient but he didn't want to rush anything, it was really difficult to hold himself back. He grabbed Lee by his waist and forced him to face him. Eyes locked, the Construct's eyes had tears formed already, his cheeks tinted of the brightest red, parted lips and soft pink marks on his neck. It was an amazing sight indeed. Zenas lowered his body a bit, and in the blink of an eye Lee was sitting on the desk with Zenas between his legs. The light kisses from before were now more aggressive, tongue tracing every single tooth. Muffled moans coming out of Lee, both of his hands firmly grasping Zenas' hair and his legs wrapped around the human's waist.

It was too hot. Lee felt like his frame and M.I.N.D were about to explode due to the excessive heat he was feeling. But he didn't want Zenas to stop. He didn't care if others could hear them, he didn't care if he was losing his cool. Right now he just wanted to get fucked by his favourite human.

────────────── ❁ ──────────────

〔 🎐 〕... 𝚜𝚘, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑. 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚋𝚞𝚝, 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕.

〔 🎐 〕 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙿𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗(𝚢). 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr lee #lee hyperreal #pgr global #canon divergence #oc x canon #pgr commandant #pgr oc #lee x commandant #i love lee so much #I'm insane #okay but Lee is cute #listen I'm not good at this and it shows #i don't know how to tag this #sae pgr writings

23 notes · View notes

hellfiremunsonn · 2 years

Text

Smashing Pumpkins. Eddie Munson x Reader

Smashing Pumpkins.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

SUMMARY: basically ur a little shit and wont let him help you even though you’re definitely struggling and he keeps asking you to give him the knife but ur just in full goblin mode and wont let him and then you cut yourself a little, and hes like SEEE!!!

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, little bit of ditsy!reader, Eddie being the sweetest boyfriend, hospital, stitches, blood (reader slices her thumb pretty badly) a doctor (cause ya know, ur in the hospital) IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE LET ME KNOW

Word count: 1876

You’re sat in the middle of Eddies living room. Newspaper and a big black garbage bag surround you from where you say, legs splayed out into a V with a very large pumpkin in between them. You wanted to do something really cool and surprise Eddie with it when he came home from work, but the fucker came home early, ruining any chance of surprise. You were elbow deep into the pumpkin, pulling out the cold squishy insides and letting them splat onto newspaper next to you when he walked through the door.

He choked on the song he was humming, slightly startled at your presence, and even more so to see the giant pumpkin between your legs.

“Eddieeee!” You whined, tipping your head back. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet!”

He laughed, setting his things down on the counter before turning to you. “I mean I can leave if that’s what you want?” He said teasingly, thumb pointed to the door behind him.

“No, you can stay” You said mumbling, trying to hide your smile “But you ruined the surprise” You said with a pout, continuing with the squishy insides.

“Was the surprise the giant pumpkin in your lap?” He said shuffling towards the sink in the kitchen, washing his hands thoroughly of any left over grease and dirt from work.

“It might have been” you mumbled. “Well technically it was gunna be the jackolantern I’m turning it into, so you can’t look till it’s done okay?” You said picking up the large kitchen knife next to you and pointing it at him.

He laughed, putting his hands up in surrender, coming over to you, feet balanced on either side of the carpet not covered by pumpkin mess, as he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

You giggled. “You look like you’re playing a weird game of twister”

Eddie laughed, tipping his head back and almost losing his balance. “I’m gunna change, please don’t hurt yourself while I’m not in the room” He said with a pointed look.

“I’ve made it this far Munson, I think I can manage” you said smiling.

He rolled his eyes and left, a very dramatic “mhmm” leaving his lips as we went.

You continued gutting your pumpkin until you were satisfied with it’s mostly clean insides, and started on carving it. You really didn’t know what to put on it, and you didn’t really have the artistic abilities, to do something more creative, so you decided on making the pumpkin look as silly as possible. An all too happy pumpkin to sit outside of the Munsons home. You laughed to yourself as you started on its eyes, classic triangles.

When Eddie came back out, you had the pumpkin as close to you as you could get it, practically under your chin as you concentrated on guiding the knife back and forth through its thick skin.

Eddie audibly cringed when he saw the way you were handling the knife. “Baby can I do that for you?” He asked sweetly.

“M'fine Eds I got it” You said huffing, blowing a few strands of hair away from your face.

He tapped his fingers on his thighs. “What about using a smaller knife? It might be easier” he said taking a step towards you, slowly like you were a small animal that was going to get spooked at any sudden movement.

“They don’t cut as well as this one” You said with a grunt, the knife finally going through to the other side.

“You’re going to hurt yourself” arms crossed, like a parent scolding a child.

You looked up at him through your lashes. “You look like Steve” You said with a smirk, and he immediately dropped his hands to his sides, shoving them into his pockets.

“Can I please do it for you?” He almost begged.

“If you take one more step I will stab you I swear” You said laughing, holding the knife up to point it at him again, a harmless threat because in actuality you would never hurt that soft boy intentionally. “I know how to use a Knife Edward, I’m not gunna hurt myself, I’ve carved a pumpkin with much worse”

Cringing at his full name he huffed. “Cause that’s exactly what I need to hear to reassure me of your safety” He said rolling his eyes and turning towards the kitchen.

You mocked him in a high pitch voice before stabbing the knife into the pumpkin once more “You worry too much, I’m very mu- Shit” You cut yourself; sliced the side of your thumb from where your hand was holding the pumpkin steady, the knife slipping out a little too much with your last pull, slicing the meaty side of your thumb. Dropping the knife haphazardly you wrapped your hand around your thumb with a whimper, afraid to look at the damage.

“You cut yourself didn’t you?” Eddie said coming to your side quickly.

“N-no” You stuttered, eyes big and watery, bitting down on your bottom lip.

“Can I see?” he asked softly, tentative hands on top of yours. Looking down you saw blood dripping down the palm of your hand and your heart beat quickened slightly. Letting go of your thumb slowly, your hand sticky with the warm substance, you realized you cut yourself a lot deeper than you thought. You shoved your hand back around your thumb tightly, doing a breathing exercise to try to keep yourself calm. Eyes back on Eddies, his softened at your expression, one hand coming to cup your cheek, brushing away the tears that began rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Hey you’re okay baby, were gunna wrap it up nice and tight, and just take a little trip to the emergency room okay?”

You whimpered and shook your head ‘no’ in response, words stuck in your throat, unable to get anything coherent out.

“It’ll be okay, promise” he said standing up and walking into the kitchen, returning to the floor next to you with a baby blue tea-towel in hand. “Here, c'mon, we gotta wrap your hand up babe” when you hesitated to give him your hand, afraid of losing more blood.

“I’ll be quick yeah?” He said reaching one of his hands out. You took a deep breath, leaning towards him and freeing your thumb from your hand, looking away while he swiftly wrapped the towel around it. He grabbed your other hand, bringing it back to your now wrapped hand, and squeezed your fingers, encouraging you to hold the towel tightly in place. You winced a little, a few more tears escaping when you finally opened your eyes.

“Alright up you get” Eddie said holding onto your elbows while you leaned them into his palms, steadying yourself as you stood up. Helping you into your shoes, Eddie knelt in front of you, quick fingers looping the old laces of your converse, wrapping one of his sweaters over your shoulders and leaning you to his van. Hopping up onto the ledge with you he made sure you were safe in your seat, leaning over you to buckle in your seatbelt before heading to the drivers side.

The wait wasn’t as long as you thought it might have been, and by the time a doctor finally saw you, your thumb had mostly stopped bleeding. Still from it being so deep, the doctor decided to give you two stitches, knowing it would heal faster this way.

“Alright if you would just turn your head, maybe look at your boyfriend there, I’m going to numb your thumb so I can stitch you up”

“Oh god” You mumbled, turning to Eddie, your free hand holding tightly onto the fabric of his shirt, in the centre of his chest. He brought both of his hands to yours, warm and large as they wrapped around it.

“You got this babe, it’ll be quick don’t worry” He leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead, his subtle attempt to loosen the tightness of your furrowed brows, creasing in the middle.

You felt the doctor take your hand, almost as gently as Eddie had touched it earlier, but you could tell it was more strategic verses being comforting.

“If you could just take in a nice deep breath for me” The doctor said calmly, and you did as you were told. Inhaling deeply, almost hurting your lungs with how much air you pulled in you groaned at the sharp pinch in your thumb, clenching your teeth together and leaning forward until your head rested on Eddies chest, just above your still clenched fist.

“Jesus, fuck, christ, shit, bitch, tit that hurts” You spat out the words, mostly muffled by Eddies chest. He tried not to laugh at your choice of expletives and how your feet were stomping quickly on the white tiled floor.

Within less than a minute, you were stitched back together, and wrapped up with a now comically large white gauzed thumb. You felt stupid, a little embarrassed, and a bit hungry. Unusually quiet on the drive home until Eddie turned to you briefly, before looking back at the road. “What’s up buttercup?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt silly for being emotional about it; maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off but still. “M'sorry” You said quietly.

Eddie turned to you again, a few times in a row to take in your expression while still driving safely. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for my love” he reached over with one hand, petting the hair away from your face, hand resting gently on the back of your head. You turned to face him, cheek pressing agaisnt the skin of his wrist.

“You don’t think I’m stupid?”

He snorted. “Hardly, you’ve hurt yourself in weirder ways”

“Never needed stitches though” You said with a pout, very much feeling sorry for yourself. “Oh god did I leave blood in your house? What if Wayne sees it and thinks you really did kill someone this time, oh no”

Eddie laughed hard at that one, it was loud and throaty, his hand returning to the steering wheel as he turned back down the road of the trailer park. “You know he wont be home until way later, and besides, you really didn’t bleed all that much, just a little much”

“Just a little much?” You repeated with a smile, cheeks sticky from leftover tears.

Eddie held up two fingers, his index and his thumb giving you a visual of how much blood actually came out. You rolled your eyes at him and laughed, unclipping your seatbelt and sliding out of his van, being extra cautious of your thumb, holding it against your chest for maximum protection.

Coming around to your side of the van, Eddie wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the trailer. “Can I help you carve the damn thing now?” he asked, opening the door and letting you in first.

“Nah, I think we should smash it, I’m mad at it now” You said staring at the pumpkin through slitted eyes, hoping it could sense your hatred through your look.

“Smashing pumpkins huh? Sounds metal, I’m in” He said with a grin.

#hellfiremunsonn #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Stranger Things #Stranger Things Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Stranger Things fluff #Eddie Munson fan fiction #Stranger Things fan fiction #Eddie Munson x femreader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x (y/n)#Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things smut #Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

39 notes · View notes

splitminiusa · 1 year

Text

Ductless Mini Split Heat Pump User Tips

Know your remote. A lot of a mini-split’s functionality is hidden in the remote control. Just as you know your own TV remote and have to figure out a hotel’s.

Mode selection is key. Mini-split heat pumps have both indoor units (an air-handler sometimes called a “head”) and outdoor units (the compressor/condenser). You can have two or three indoor heads connected to the same outdoor compressor, but all the heads need to be on the same mode. For example, if you have two bedrooms connected to the same compressor but each with its own head, you can’t have one on heating mode and one on cooling mode. But you can have different cooling setpoints, such as keeping a bedroom or workout room cooler than the rest of the house. Changing the mode is as easy as pressing the “mode” button and watching an icon change from sun (heat) to snowflake (cool).

Cleaning is important, but it doesn’t have to be difficult. Once a quarter, you should remove the filters and gently wash off any debris. If they look really dirty, you can do this more often. Be careful using any pressure-washing devices on the delicate “fins” of your unit as they can be easily damaged if you are too aggressive. Heat pump technicians have specially calibrated pressure washers. Do not spray any chemicals into the indoor or outdoor units. A professional cleaning once a year will help keep your system running efficiently and identify maintenance needs so you don’t get stuck with a malfunction in cold or hot weather.

Protect your heat pumps when you work on your house. Many contractors — HVAC or otherwise — are not yet familiar with heat pumps. If you are having work done on your house, even something basic like painting, take simple steps to protect your indoor units from dust and debris. Covering them with a plastic bag or sheet should work fine.

Leave it on or off. Heat pumps use the most electricity when working hard to get a room to temperature. Once that temperature is achieved the unit then only has to work to maintain it. When you shut your heat pump off what happens is the room temperature will drop. Then when you turn the unit back on the system will need to work hard once again to bring it back to temperature. While there are a few dollars a month in savings to be had by turning the unit off and on for comfort purposes we advise leaving it on all the time.

Should I shut it off IF it’s going to be raining/snowing/ice storm. For rain there isn’t a need to shut your unit off, unless there is an expected flash freeze after the rain. For heavy snow and/or ice storms it can be a good idea to shut your unit off as well. This is to protect the fan from pulling too much snow through the outdoor unit and causing a snow/ice build up behind the unit. This snow and ice build up can result in the fan motor burning out if the unit was to become consumed by snow or ice. While this isn’t the risk that we run with every storm it’s a good idea to tun then unit off.

#9000 btu mini split #12000 btu mini split #18000 btu mini split air conditioner #24000 btu mini split #36000 btu mini split

2 notes · View notes

reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

peanut buttercup (matthew gray gubler/reader)

Title: Peanut Buttercup

Anon Requested: Hi so I been asking for this request for awhile but no one seems to do it. I was wondering if you could write a Matthew Gray Gubler x Fem! Reader. And they have a 5 year old kid. They both work together on Criminal minds and play each other’s love interest. One day their babysitter cancels and they have to bring their kid to set. They have a balance taking care of a kid and filming. And can you possibly add that Matthew is filming one of his unauthorize documentary and he includes his kid. I would really love to read this.

Couple: Dad!Matthew Gray Gubler/Fem!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing, Dad!Mgg, mentions of being sick

Word Count: 5,076

Summary: When reader and Matthew’s babysitter cancels on them on a last minute notice, they’re forced to bring their 5-year-old daughter, Tallulah ‘Peanut’, to set. Matthew and Reader have to re-learn to balance filming, on set tomfoolery, and taking care of their daughter.

A/N: i literally love this request so much, it’s so cute and makes me feel so soft. I really needed to write some cute fluff after everything im writing, especially for a different type of high… so thank you for sending this in. i think we need more dad!mgg fluff too, we stan dad!mgg. So, meet tallulah jane ‘peanut’ gubler, and reader ‘buttercup’ gubler :))) im so soft right now. thanks for all the love and support! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

It was… quiet. Quite possibly too quiet. Especially for a house that has 2 actors and a five-year-old daughter. I was getting the chance to sleep in a little later than normal, and there's no husband or little girl begging for breakfast. Maybe husband took her on a morning jaunt? No, that'd be too ambitious for him, and even for her. Or, maybe he put a movie on and she's actually watching. Or maybe- frick, nevermind. I clearly spoke too soon and had my hopes too high. The pitter-patter of little feet, followed by the louder footsteps of an adult man came running into the bedroom.

"Tallulah," Matthew's voice was soft, like he was whispering but knew it'd be useless. Because once she got up into the bed, I was starting to wake up more.

"Mommy, mommy! Wake up! Wake up!" A little girl's voice shouted as she jumped on the bed. I kept the blanket over my body and groaned as a small body jumped on top of mine.

"5 more minutes," I pretended to whine as I pulled my blanket over my head. I could hear Matthew's laughter as Tallulah jumped into my body. I groaned at the sudden weight on my still tired body. "Okay, okay I'm awake," I tiredly spoke as I sat up. Tallulah fell onto the bed beside me in a fit of laughter.

Matthew was already dressed and what seemed ready for the day. His glasses sitting on his nose, and his hair falling perfectly around his face. A bizarre patterned shirt, that I wouldn't be surprised if Tallulah picked it, hung off his frame, paired with a pair of jeans and his converse. How long had he been awake?

"I tried telling her you wanted 5 more minutes," Matthew laughed as he looked at me. I looked back at him and smiled, before looking down at our daughter, who was still laughing. Her beautiful brown and curly locks of hair, though somewhat a ratty mess, covered her face just enough to show her toothy smile and brown/hazel eyes. "She just wouldn't listen. She wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast," Matthew smiled as he sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

"Breakfast!?" I exclaimed as I looked down at Tallulah. She looked up at me and smiled before rolling around on her back. "I guess that’s up to you, Peanut," I smiled as I placed a hand on her stomach.

"Pancakes!" She sat up and looked at me. I looked over at Matthew and smiled. The amusement he wore on his face made me feel happy. Of course, no matter what his daughter did, he was amused or happy. I don’t blame him though, she’s basically the mini-me version of him.

"Pancakes!? That sounds like a great idea!" I brushed her hair away from her face, "how about you and daddy get started in those while I take a quick shower and get ready for the day?" I asked with a smile. I glanced back at Matthew, silently telling him to help me out with this. “Maybe make me some chocolate chip pancakes? Oh! Or a few apple cinnamon?” I smiled at him. Matthew laughed at my enthusiasm for pancakes.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me," Matthew stood up and placed his fists in his hips. Tallulah looked between Matthew and me before falling off the bed in a sensible style.

"Sounds like a plan," she copied Matthew's action and looked up at him with a smile. I smiled and watched as the pair marched out of the room.

I sighed deeply before lying back again for a minute. I knew the second I left my bed, mommy mode would have to be fully turned on for the morning. Although mommy mode was way more preferable than actor mode, I just get to be around my favorite little girl and it makes me happy.

Time, unfortunately, was not on my side. It was nearing the time Marianne (Tallulah’s nanny) would be here, and Matthew and I would have to leave for work. Which all meant I had about 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, and actually get ready for the day.

Once I was finished showering and getting dressed, I went to the kitchen where I knew I'd find Matthew and Tallulah. The sweet smell of apple cinnamon pancakes found its to my nose.

“Those pancakes smell amazing!” I spoke as I entered the kitchen. Matthew was standing beside Tallulah, gently brushing out her knotty hair. “I can't wait to have one,” I looked down at Tallulah, “did you help make them, Tj?”

“Yeeeah!” She exclaimed as she put her fork in her mouth.

“Did you also help make the mess?” I looked around the counter at the mess that suddenly appeared overnight. Matthew looked down at Tallulah, who was looking up at him with wide eyes. She was obviously whispering something to him, causing Matthew to laugh.

“That was, uh… That was Rumple Buttercup,” Matthew nodded as he looked back up at me. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “He came up here just as you got into the shower and made the biggest mess? Isn’t that right, Peanut?” Matthew looked back down at her and wink.

“Yeah! It was Rumbellercup.” She looked at me with a cheesy smile.

“Right,” I faked an amused smile before nodding. I quietly grabbed a sponge and began wiping up the sticky flour mess on the countertop. “Well, next time, Rumple Buttercup should stick around and clean up,” I smiled as I looked over at the two.

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about the mess,” Matthew winked at me. I rolled my eyes before continuing my cleaning. Well, tried to continue before being stopped by my phone ringing.

“Phone!” Tallulah shouted as she pointed towards me and my phone. I looked up at her and smiled.

“Looks like it’s Marianne,” I looked at the screen, noticing her name, “Wonder why she isn’t here yet,” I spoke before answering.

“Hey, Marianne! We were just talking about you!” I smiled as I tossed the icky sponge into the sink.

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” her voice was low as she spoke. I furrowed my eyebrows and cocked my head, “I’m afraid I have to cancel. I can’t babysit Tallulah today?”

“What do you mean you have to cancel?” I asked, I honestly had my answer the second she sneezed, then coughed, then sneezed again. “You know something, it’s okay,” “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” she spoke through a cough. I cringed as I looked over at my husband and five-year-old. I could sense that she was talking about something, and he was doing his best to keep up and understand whatever it was she was saying.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, really. I hope you feel much better. Take all the time you need,” I insisted as I rested my hand on the counter, “We’ll figure something out. I just hope you feel better,” I frowned as I kept my eyes on the two.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Marianne whispered. I bit my lips back and shook my head.

“Get some rest. Call if you need anything,” I replied before hanging up. I placed my phone on the counter before going to grab things for lunch for Tallulah.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Matthew looked up at me as he brushed Tallulah’s hair into two pigtails. He had a certain look of worry on his face as he looked at me. I looked up at him as I made a ham and cheese sandwich. Hopefully, she enjoys a sandwich with all the fruit snacks a five-year-old could consume (which, unfortunately, was a lot), and some actual fruit. I'm sure when on our way home we'll stop somewhere for dinner or late lunch. That's hope it usually works when Tallulah comes to set with us.

“Marianne is sick. Can’t babysit today,” I frowned as I looked between him and Tallulah. Tallulah was too busy eating her pancakes and rambling about Alvin and The Chipmunks (specifically about how Theodore was her favorite, not Simon) to actually care about our conversation.

“Really,” Matthew looked at me and dropped his shoulders. He puffed his cheeks a little bit before frowning, “No one else?”

“I mean, I could call Aj and see if her babysitter can watch Little Miss, but that’d be a lot for one lady,” I paused as I looked down at our daughter, “Or we could bring her. You know how much everyone on set loves seeing her,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. Even though it was a lot of work bringing a five-year-old to set, we both loved it. The balance between working and taking care of her was a bit rough, but we always made it work.

“We could do that, we have a couple of scenes together, I’m sure we could get Kirsten or someone to be with her for that time,” he looked down at his daughter before adjusting her pigtails, “Maybe even convince the writers to give Spencer and Mollie a daughter,” he looked back at me and winked. I shook my head.

“You should finish getting her ready because we have to go soon,” I pointed out. Matthew looked down at Tallulah with a smile before shrugging.

“Alright, let’s go, Peanut!” Matthew spoke as he lifted Tallulah up and stood her up on the table. I looked at the two and smiled.

“You get to come to work with me and daddy today,” I walked over to them and readjusted her crocked pigtails, and carefully pinched her cheeks, “That means you get to see Auntie Kirsten, Auntie Aj, Auntie Pag, and everyone else,” I smiled and watched as Matthew lifted her up on to his hip.

“Yay!” Tallulah shouted once she was clinging to Matthew’s side. The two of them closely resembled a Koala. She grabbed Matthew’s face, a hand on either side, to get his attention, “Daddy’s work,” she whispered. I smiled, already looking forward to the shenanigans that was about to happen during our day. Whenever we bring Tallulah to set for a visit, almost everyone wants to spend time with her. And she sucks up all the attention. She’s got everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger.

“Go pick out some cool clothes with daddy while I finish making your lunch. Sounds good?” I looked at her. She smiled and nodded before looking at Matthew.

“Let’s go get out of your jammies,” Matthew spoke, tugging on her Elsa nightgown. The two walked away and towards her bedroom. I seriously hope he’ll help her pick out something nice to wear and not let her wear a princess dress. I love it, but not today. {***}{***}{***}

“You gotta be a good girl for mom and I, okay? You can watch us while we work, but you gotta be super quiet,” Matthew held a finger up to his lips, as if he was telling Tallulah to be quiet. She smiled before copying his action. “Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” she enthusiastically nodded once Matthew set her on the ground. I squatted beside her and gave her a few quiet toys and coloring books as Matthew went to talk to one of the assistants/interns nearby.

“Look, we packed your favorite coloring book,” I smiled as I placed the coloring book on the ground beside her. She grabbed the crayons from me and poured them out. I looked at her for a moment before standing upright.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just have her in the trailer? It’d be safer for, well, everyone. And if we check on her every so often,” I looked at Matthew once he was back beside me. We walked side by side back towards wardrobe and makeup.

“Nah, it’s fine. One of the interns said they’d watch her. And then we can get one of the makeup artists to watch her. You know how much they love her,” Matthew smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I remembered the day we visited set after Tallulah was born. Other than Kirsten and AJ, the makeup artists were the ones to not leave our side because they loved her so much. I honestly didn’t blame them. “Don’t stress so much about this, Buttercup, this isn’t the first time she’s had to come to set with up. And you know for a fact it won’t be the last time,” he stopped right in front of the door to the makeup studio. “She’ll do a great job,” he smiled before hugging me.

“I know, I know. She’s just a lot older than she was the last time she came with us. And I know something will happen,” I sighed, pressing my face into his shoulder. Matthew laughed as he squeezed me tightly.

“And, if she does, we’ll take a break, bring to the trailer, and calm her down. C’mon, you know she’s a great kid,” he looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I laughed as I looked up at him.

“That’s because she’s your kid,” I nodded before stepping away from and entering the makeup studio.

Of course, luck was not really on our side. We were a few hours left of filming, Tallulah had been doing a great job, staying quiet and playing with one of the make up artists. Until she bashed her head into a table, causing her to go into full hysterics.

“I got it, I’m done for the day anyways,” Aj looked at me from her space on the ground, away fro the raised set, “She’ll be okay. I can make all little girl boo-boos go away,” she smiled before stepping up to me. I looked at her before looking over at Matthew, who was already over soothing our daughter.

“I owe you big,” I walked up to her, “You know we have stuff in our trailer for her. I think it might be naptime,” I looked at her, feeling the worry in my brow.

“Got it, naptime,” Aj gave me a thumbs up before stepping off the set. I watched as she carefully approached Matthew and Tallulah. Tears were still fresh in her eyes, but she was laughing at whatever it was Matthew was telling her. I could feel a smile tugging on my lips as I watch Aj grasp Tallulah’s hand, leading her away from the studio.

“She’ll be fine,” Matthew smiled at me before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I hummed before stepping away from him.

“Oh, I know that, I don’t doubt. I’m just tired, I suppose,” I rubbed the underside of my nose, “But, we’re almost done,” I nodded with a smile. I was just happy we were able to get back to work pretty quickly after the temper tantrum.

{***}{***}{***}

“I think we’ve got what we needed for today! That’s a wrap!” The director shouted to everyone on set. I allowed my shoulders to slump as a yawn worked its way through my mouth. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me.

“You definitely needed those extra five minutes,” he spoke as he shrugged off his ‘Spencer Reid’ blazer. I yawned, again, and nodded.

“Suppose that’s life with a 5-year-old,” I stepped off the set with him and walked beside him towards our trailer, “Do you want to go get that girl in question, or should I?” I raised an eyebrow once we were both in the privacy of our small trailer.

“You should. I want to do something real quick,” he pecked my lips real quick as he walked towards the backend of the trailer. I looked down at the few toys that were thrown around the floor, before grabbing Tallulah’s backpack and sweater.

“You want to do something? What would that be?” I asked, throwing the strap of the backpack over my shoulder. A moment later, Matthew stepped back towards me, wearing a Babygirl hat that Shemar got for him, and a purple scarf that he totally stole from me. “You look like a douchebag,” I scoffed as I turned towards the door, “You’re lucky I love you, and that we’re married,” I turned back and looked at him for a moment.

“I think you’re the lucky one, Buttercup,” Matthew spoke to me as I stepped off the trailer. I laughed and shook my head. “Not everyone can score this,” he spoke as he gestured towards his body. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, are you going to let me go get our kid? Or are you going to pull me into whatever it is you have planned,” I asked with a sly smile on my lips.

“Should probably go get Tallulah,” he shrugged as he followed beside me. I looked at him and allowed him to kiss me softly. “Good luck,”

“I’ll need all the luck in the world,” I laughed before peeling away from him. I could hear him talking to someone as I walked away, and I could only imagine it was one of the cameramen.

Usually Aj took her out of the studio the second the tantrum started, bringing somewhere quiet. Usually, it was our trailer, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were there for a bit, but I knew after naps it was always snack time. So, I went towards the cafeteria.

“Mommy!” A little voice shouted from across the room. My eyes scanned around, looking for my little girl and friend. Aj was sitting at one of the tables with Tallulah on her lap. Tallulah was busy, eating chicken nuggets that Aj must’ve gotten for her. So much better than a ham and cheese sandwich.

“Hey, Peanut!” I exclaimed as I sat across from them at the table. I glanced at Aj and smiled, silently telling her thank you. “Did you have a fun time with Auntie Aj?” I looked back down at Tallulah.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed before shoving a whole chicken nugget in her mouth. I raised my eyebrows and laughed.

“We took a nap, colored, played with some dolls, and then we were hungry,” Aj looked up at me as she listed their activities during the last few hours. I nodded and leaned over the table.

“That sounds like a great time. I wish I could take a nap,” I sighed before stealing one of her nuggets. Tallulah glared at me as I munched on the food. “I wanna see your drawings!” I smiled at her. Tallulah turned and looked up Aj, asking her to show the drawings she made.

“Tada!” she beamed as she showed me her drawings. I looked down at the 4 sheets of paper with a multitude of colors. One of them was easily imaged as a family portrait and I could easily point out Matthew and me, and Tallulah. Another one was just a tornado of colors, with animal stickers placed around them. And the last two pictures were coloring pages we had printed off, a Disney princess and a picture of Alvin and the Chipmunks (again, it’s her favorite movie… And not because her dad is in it).

“These are awesome, Peanut!” I looked back up at her with an excited smile, “I’m sure you had such a great time with Auntie AJ! I can’t wait to hear about it all! What do you say to her?” I looked at Tallulah as I brushed hair away from her face.

“Thank you, Auntie AJ,” Tallulah looked up at Aj with a bright, cheesy smile. Aj returned the smile as she looked at my daughter.

“Of course! I had a wonderful time with you! You be good for mom and dad, okay?” Aj asked before offering a hug. Tallulah squealed before throwing her arms around Aj. I smiled, watching the pair interact.

“Should we go find daddy? I’m sure he’d love to see your drawings!” I asked stood up. Aj helped Tallulah to the ground before standing up herself. Aj handed me Tallulah’s stuffed animal and a few of her other things. “Thank you so much, Aj,” I smiled at her.

“Of course, you know I love watching her,” she returned the smile, “Seriously, if you need help with you, you know I’m always available, even on set,” she hugged me.

“Of course, again thank you so much,” I returned the hug before letting her leave. Tallulah watched as Aj walked away, before looking up at me with a smile, “Let’s find dad,” I smiled before offering her my hand. She grabbed it before walking beside me. I handed her stuffed animal back to her as we left the cafeteria.

“Are you going to show daddy your pictures?” I looked down at Tallulah. She was holding a small stack of papers in her hand as she skipped beside me. Her stuffed animal was now stuffed under her arm since her hands were too busy holding her drawings and she didn’t want me to hold it. “You did a good job with your family portrait,” I looked at the papers in her hand. She was looking down at that very picture with a big smile on her face.

“Yeah!” She looked up at me and gushed. I chuckled as she hugged her pictures close to her chest.

“Do you think he’ll like them?” I looked up and saw Matthew at a bit of a distance, someone standing beside him as he talked. He was moving around a lot, which told me he was up to something.

“Yeah!” Tallulah exclaimed as she added a little bit of a skip to her step. And that skip in her step told me that she was excited. Well, it was more than the skip in her step. It was also the sweet-tooth, cheek-achingly, adorable smile she wore on her precious little face.

“Do you think he’ll… Love it?” I looked down at her for a moment. She stopped walking for a second as she looked down at the picture she had drawn. Tallulah was definitely blessed with Matthew’s sense of style when it came to art (and clothing), which was lovely. She’ll be something of an artist when she grows up, I’m sure of it. Especially when her family portrait has three people and two of them have 2 heads and 4 arms, and the other one has a tail. But, that’s okay. Matthew will most definitely love her drawing. I know I do.

“Love it! Love it!” She looked up at me as she jumped. I laughed and shook my head. She looked down at the pictures again before holding them up to me. I raised an eyebrow before taking them from her to hold.

“Well, I know I love them,” I looked back down at her. As we continued walking, she kept talking about what she got to do with Kirsten and Aj. Her babble was still a little bit incoherent, but I knew what she was saying. God bless Kirsten though. “I’m kinda hungry, do you think daddy will let us get McDonald’s on the way home?” I looked back down at her as she grabbed my hand.

“McDonald’s?” She looked at me with wide eyes. Let me just put that into my child’s mind so she can ask Matthew. Because everyone knows it’s hard to say no to the Gubler child. No one knows better than Matthew.

Unfortunately, our conversations ended there. Because as we turned the corner, Matthew’s voice could be heard. I looked up and saw him standing beside our trailer. The second Tallulah would hear his voice, she would be off and glued to him, instead of me. What a little daddy’s girl.

“Who the fuck is that?” Matthew half-shouted to the cameraman beside him. Even though we were a good distance away from him, I could still hear the words he was saying. I was grateful that Tallulah couldn’t hear him. We both know she’d repeat any word she knows she’s not allowed to say. And since he was standing beside a cameraman, I knew he was filming one of his Unauthorized Documentaries. “Who the fuck is that,” he pulled the cameraman and pointed him towards Tallulah and I. This man and his swearing around his 5-year-old. I swear.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah shouted once grew closer to him. She let go of my hand before sprinting away from me and towards Matthew. When she was close enough to him, she jumped into the air and Matthew caught her. “Guess what, Daddy!” She shouted into his ear. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me.

“What, Peanut?” He asked, swinging her around so she was on his back. Sort of like a monkey with its baby. It was Tallulah’s favorite way to be carried. “You got to hang out with Kirsten and Aj while mommy and I worked, right?” He looked over his shoulder at his daughter. She laughed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah!” she looked over at me as I got closer to them. I shuffled the few pictures before flipping them around to show him. “Auntie Kirsten and Auntie Aj let me color!” Tallulah, again, shouted into his ear. Matthew looked at the pictures in my hands and smiled.

“Woah! Peanut, these are awesome! Are you going to be an artist like dad?” He looked over his shoulder and at Tallulah. I smiled as I shuffled the pictures to show more of them.

“Yeeeah,” she smiled before pressing her face into his shoulder, like she was hiding. I smiled before stepping up to him. Matthew smiled before pecking my lips.

“Little Miss and I are starving,” I grabbed his hand and swung it beside me.

“Starving?!” Matthew spoke loud so Tallulah could hear him. A little giggle came from her as she readjusted her position, “Well, we can’t have that! Where do you want to eat, Peanut?”

“McDonalds!”

“McDonalds?” Matthew looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I smiled and looked down at the ground, “Let’s fucking go then!” Matthew half shouted as he jumped. Tallulah giggled as she hugged her arms tighter around his neck, almost nearly suffocating him.

“Matthew,” I looked at him with the signature mom glare I adopted from my own mother. He looked over at me as he placed a hand on his daughter’s arms. He knew exactly what the glare was meant for. Swearing in front of our 5-year-old. Of course, we both knew that wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d swear in front of her.

“Daddy said fuck!” Tallulah shouted before laughing. Matthew looked at me with an apologetic look in his eye before swinging Tallulah off his back and on to his hip. I cocked my head as I placed my hands on my hips. “Fuck!” She repeated, shouting the word at Matthew. And, again, this wouldn’t be the last time she repeated a swear word.

“Now, Tallulah, that is a mommy and daddy word. You know you shouldn’t say that. Just because mommy or daddy does, doesn’t mean you can,” he looked at her. She pouted before nodded. Thankfully, she actually understood when to not say swear words, she also understood what “mommy and daddy” words were. “Got it?” Matthew looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at him and stuck up her thumb.

“Got it!” She smiled before throwing her arms around his neck. Matthew laughed before picking her back up.

“Now, let’s go get some happy meals,” Matthew spoke as he pointed towards the direction of our car. I sighed deeply, walking the opposite direction towards our trailer, knowing they’ll both know we need to stop by there before we leave.

{***}{***}{***}

“She asleep?” I asked, glancing away from my script as Matthew entered the room. He pulled his shirt off as he went towards his closet.

“She’s always insistent on Rumple Buttercup, but almost never makes it to the end,” he laughed as he put his pajamas on. I smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe it’s time you wrote a second one… Give Rumple Buttercup a brother or sister,” I laughed as I rubbed a hand on his back. He looked over his shoulder with a smile before getting comfortable in the bed beside me.

“You know… I’ve been thinking,” Matthew started as he moved closer to me. I looked up from my script and over at him with a raised eyebrow. Something was telling me he wasn’t going to continue talking about a second Rumple Buttercup book… “What if Tallulah had a little brother or sister,” he asked as he looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t help but burst out with laughter. I felt bad for my laughter, mostly because I knew he wanted a second child. But, we were running slim on time with that.

“She is too much of a daddy’s girl to share with anyone, including me, Matthew,” I closed my script as I looked up at him. He looked genuinely hurt with my laughter and comment. “Besides, I thought we were good with the one,” I gestured towards her room.

“But, what if we had another one,” he shrugged. I dropped my shoulders and sighed, but kept a smile on my lips nonetheless. “C’mon, two! That’s a perfect number!” “Two is a perfect number,” I swallowed roughly as I looked down at the bedding in front of me. I couldn’t help but allow the smile on my lips to grow. “And she wouldn’t be alone on family trips,” I mused as I glanced over at him. Matthew was looking at me with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “You don’t think we should talk about this first? I mean, Matthew, you’re almost 40, I’m nearly 35...” I let out a small laugh.

“I think we just talked about it! And to me it sounds like we both want it,” he smiled before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed before moving away from him.

“Okay, okay, we can try. But not right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe once Marianne is better and we don’t have to take Tallulah to set. Because that was so exhausting,” I ran a hand through his hair and smiled, “Fair?”

“Fair,” he smiled before kissing me softly, “Love you,”

“I love you too,”

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spence reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds one shot

432 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years

Note

hiii i am absolutely obsessed with ur drabbles could u please do nalu #4 and #39 pls🥺

“Walk out that door and we’re through” + “Please come home, I miss you”

This was tough cause the questions could trigger a story similar to this one I also did for these prompt asks round. But I think I can make it different enough, albeit angst hell 😅 here we go! It’s a little rushed but longer then I expected for a ficlet lol

“Lucy,” Natsu knocked at the office door, “it’s time to go.”

“Where?” She answered without looking up.

“Levy’s birthday party.”

“Oh!” Lucy sat up in her desk chair and turned her body to face her husband. “Right! I forgot. Um, shucks, but I’m on a writing high right now and I can’t stop— tell her I’ll make it up to her, will ya?”

She always says that… Natsu sighed, “yeah, sure…”

Levy Redfox was Lucy’s childhood best friend and while the woman was also his friend, it just didn’t sit well with Natsu that she’d choose writing over the woman. But this had been an ongoing issue lately... Don’t get him wrong, he fully supported his wife’s career as an author, especially now that it’s really starting to take off. The issue was it had consumed her at the expense of everyone around her.

He knocked on their friends door, answered by Levy herself.

“Natsu!” Levy hugged the man excitedly, but when she noticed he was alone, frowned a tad. “Again, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Levy,” Natsu’s shoulders slumped. “Lucy’s in a,” he made quotation marks in the air, “‘writing high,’ and said she’ll make it up to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you came,” the woman smiled despite the sadness hiding behind her eyes.

All of their closest friends were in attendance and spent the evening talking, eating, and playing a few fun birthday games. It distracted him to some extent, but as the night wore down and the other guests had all left, Natsu, his best friend Gray Fullbuster, Levy, and her husband Gajeel sat around in the living room talking about the elephant in the room. Lucy.

“I’ve tried talking to her,” Levy said quietly, “but, I try not to make it sound too harsh.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do babe,” Gajeel chimed in. “Be blunt.”

“Yeah, I’m like you,” Natsu agreed with Levy. “It’s not easy to bring it up cause she’s oblivious about it.”

“But it’s hurting your marriage man!” Gray looked at Natsu. “And your friendship,” he switched to Levy. “I’m with Gajeel. If you aren’t honest with her, it’s not gonna get better.”

“Think I don’t know that?!” Natsu spat back. “Think I enjoy being the only one in that house in pain?! I don’t, but—” his voice cracked, “I’m worried I’ll push her away if I say something.”

“She’s already pushing you away dude. Do you still love her?”

“Of course, I do,” Natsu sighed. “I love her more than anything, but apparently it’s not enough… we haven’t even… you know, I can’t remember the last time.”

“Wow… Then you really gotta tell her. All of it,” Gray coaxed.

Levy who’d sat quietly through the back and forth, chimed in quietly. “Gray’s right. You should tell her, when you go home, just tell her how you’re feeling. And whatever happens, happens. We can just hope for the best.”

“You know you’ll be the first to hear from her if I do,” Natsu pointed out.

“I know. But… it’s time I come clean too.”

Natsu slumped back onto the couch and let out a depressed exhale. “And you,” he looked to Gray. “You know if it goes wrong I’ll be showing up at your door.”

“My couch has your name on it.”

“Gee, thanks.”

That had to be the longest drive home Natsu had ever taken, even though it was really just 10 minutes. He was a physical person by nature and never been very good at expressing his feelings in words. Words were his wife’s domain. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but his biggest fear was saying things wrong. With his hand on the doorknob, Natsu took one last breath and opened the door to her office. He knew before entering, Lucy was still working by the clacks of the keyboard and interrupting would immediately cause friction. But he couldn’t wait anymore.

“I’m home,” Natsu called out… with no response. He sighed and spoke more sternly. “Lucy. I’m home.”

“Oh, welcome home,” she finally responded. “How was the party?”

He knew it was an empty question, because she never even looked up or stopped typing and it meant she wasn’t really listening. “Lucy… we need to talk.”

“I’m kinda busy Natsu.”

“I know, but you’re always busy Lucy. That’s part of the problem.” The moment the last word came out, Natsu knew instantly he’d picked the wrong one. Crap.

Lucy stopped typing, turned off the screen and shut the laptop. “Problem?” She turned the chair around with her eyes narrowed in a focused glare. “What do you mean, problem?”

“Lucy,” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t want to fight, but we need to talk— there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Like what?” She crossed her arms. “What is so important that you need to mess with my job?”

There it was.

“I’m not trying to do that,” he sighed. “You know how proud I am of your career. But, it feels as if you’re choosing your career over everything else in your life. Me, your friends, we’re all just being pushed aside—”

“Are you kidding me?!” Lucy shot out of her chair shaking in anger. “I am not doing any of that! I’m not pushing anyone away! Y-You’re the one who’s acting selfish trying to tell me I’m not giving you enough attention! And don’t you bring Levy into this! If this was bothering her she’d tell me!”

“It does bother her! But she’s afraid of getting,” he gestured with his hands up and down at Lucy, “this reaction! Is it selfish to want to spend some time with my own wife?!” Natsu growled. “We never spend time together anymore! You’re just always hunched over that damn computer!”

“I’m doing my job!” Lucy shrieked. “I have deadlines to meet! This story ain’t gonna write itself! Research ain’t gonna materialize on its own! It’s a lot of work!”

“Lucy,” Natsu pinched his brows together, trying hard to stop from snapping further as well as to control the tears building in his eyes. “I love you, more than anything in this world, but I don’t know what happened to the woman I’d married. The old Lucy wouldn’t abandon her loved ones like this.”

“You’re just mad because I’m successful now.”

“That’s bullshit! And you know it! No job is worth losing the people you care about, and if you can’t understand that, then, I don’t know what else to say!”

“Then I guess there isn’t anything more to say,” she spat back.

“I guess not.” Natsu answered softly, turned and left the room.

He’d already assumed confronting Lucy about her precious career would not end well, and he was right. Staying would only cause more trouble. So, he quietly packed a suitcase to go to Gray’s house, making sure to bring anything he’d need because he had no idea how long he’d stay there. He’d said his peace; it really was all in Lucy’s hands now.

Back in her office, Lucy dropped back down into her chair as the full weight of what just transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She cradled her face in her hands as the anger that had fueled her response suddenly mixed with sadness. Tears flowed free. Did that really just happen?! She could hear Natsu moving around in the bedroom, the opening of drawers, the closet, the zipping sound of the suitcase, each and every step driving a knife deeper and deeper. How dare he tell her to stop writing! This was her dream! Her livelihood! Why couldn’t he just support her instead of acting like a child who wasn’t getting attention!

When she heard Natsu walking towards the front door area, Lucy raced out of the room to confront him one last time.

“Walk out that door and we’re through!” She screamed. “Do you hear me? We’re through!”

Natsu ignored her words knowing it was the anger talking… hoping it was just the emotions fueling her rage. “I’ll be at Gray’s,” he simply responded with a hint of sadness in his tone. “You should really think long and hard about this Lucy, because if not, you’ll lose a lot more than you realize.” And with that, he closed the front door behind him.

Lucy crumpled to the ground and wailed— raged, banging the floor with her fists as the sobbing overtook her. She truly could not understand what brought this on. Hadn’t she been a good wife?! Faithful! Hard working! What more did he want?! All she was doing was trying to make it in the cut-throat world of publishing. Does he not understand how hard it is to make it in that world?! She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial Levy’s phone number. But just as she got to the last two numbers, she stopped. It was already 1 am, and it would be rude to wake her friend up. Lucy sniffled and hung her head in shame before dragging herself back towards the bedroom. She’ll just call in the morning.

When Levy answered the phone, Lucy was slightly taken aback by the response. Not a hello, just a, ‘I wondered when you’d call.’ Evidently the woman was expecting it, but she was too tired to let it add to her problems. She hadn’t slept much after Natsu left— no surprise. She was still angry, but also confused, sad, and just mentally drained of life. Her friend agreed to come over in a bit, so Lucy dragged herself into the shower hoping it would make her feel better.

“Wow, you don’t look good,” Levy remarked at her friend.

“Hi to you too,” Lucy mumbled as she moved to the side to let her friend in. “Who would after a fight?”

Once settled on the couch, Levy went straight to the point before Lucy could even begin. “I already know what this is about. I know Natsu’s side, so start with yours.”

“Wow— okay, well—” Lucy pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath her body in a protective mode. “He tried to tell me to stop writing and I thought that was bullshit,” she said bluntly.

Levy’s brow raised. “Is that exactly what he said? To stop writing?”

“W-Well no, but that what he implied!”

“What did he say exactly?”

Lucy looked away, a scowl growing on her face and to hide the renewed moisture in her eyes. “He said I’m pushing everyone away.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“No! I’m not choosing my career over everyone! It’s ridiculous to even imply that I would!”

“Lu, do you still love your husband?”

“Of course, I love him!”

“Are you sure he knows you still love him?”

“I—” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and sunk further into the couch mumbling. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

“I can tell you, he doesn’t. Lu, you’ve pushed all of us away.”

“So, you’re taking his side?!”

“No. I’m giving you reality. You’ve been wrapped up in your fictional world so much that you’ve forgotten this one and the real people in it.”

“I—” Lucy turned away to hide the tears slowly starting to trickle down her face. “I never meant to…”

“I know…” Levy placed a hand on her friends leg. “Lu, we all know. He knows, but he’s hurting and it’s in your power to fix this.”

“But how?! I can’t just stop writing. I have deadlines and— you know, its a lot of work to put a story together.”

“You have to find a balance. Right?” Levy coaxed. “You have to take breaks. You have to relax sometimes. Natsu’s not asking you to stop, and he knows there will be times you really can’t stop. But it can’t be all the time, and right now it’s all the time.”

“I know…”

“Girl when was the last time you…” Levy wiggled her brows and grinned. “You know.”

Lucy blushed. “Too long.”

“Well?!” Levy laughed. “Are you finally getting our point?”

“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I got tunneled vision.”

Levy leaned in, adding pressured from the hand on Lucy’s leg and a softening in her voice. “And it put your marriage in jeopardy. But it’s not too late to fix it.”

The tears exploded from Lucy. “I told him… when he left, I-I told him don’t come back.” She buried her face in her hands as the sobbing took control. “I-I was screaming at him… so angry, I just lost it and—”

Levy pulled Lucy into a hug. “Shhh,” she held tight. “I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it. Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean when we’re mad. But you can still get him back, I’m certain of it.”

“H-how?!” Lucy sobbed into Levy’s shoulder. “He’s gotta be so mad at me!”

“Hun, Natsu’s more sad then mad. He needs to feel like you still love him.” Levy pulled away and cupped Lucy’s cheeks, staring, searching the woman’s eyes. “Can you tell him you love him?”

“I can tell him I love him,” Lucy sniffled.

“Then go tell him that!” She hugged her friend. “You’ll be okay Lu, you two are meant to last.”

“Thanks, Levy.”

“He’s at Gray’s right? Want me to drive you?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Levy smiled. “Now clean up a bit, I’ll wait in the car.”

The whole ride over to Gray’s house was the most nerve wracking experience in Lucy’s life. As she sat there huddled in Levy’s passenger seat, all the ways she could ever apologize tried to funnel through her head. She was a writer, and yet for the first time in a long time, all the words dried up or mashed together like a broken verse. Levy did her best to keep Lucy calm, reminding her that it’s all about being honest— just let your heart do the talking for once and not her head.

“You got this,” Levy patted Lucy’s shoulder before she exited the vehicle.

Lucy sure hoped she did. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Seconds ticked by and with each chime, all the weight and worry crept closer to sending her over. He was mad. Too mad. He probably won’t answer…

Finally someone did. “You came?” Natsu’s voice was soft and low, his eyes still bloodshot and worn.

“I came,” Lucy hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry— F-For everything, Natsu please come home, I miss you. I love you more than my job, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“You always say that Lucy…”

Ouch. Straight through her heart. The tears broke free again as her knees weakened, causing her to fall against him. Natsu caught her, and she clung to him, gripped to his shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please come home! I love you! Natsu please come home! I can change! I promise I’ll change!”

That’s when she felt his hold truly tighten around her body and his head come to rest against her own. Lucy sobbed harder from the acceptance, pouring her heart in her words. “I love you… I love you so much, I’m so sorry….”

Natsu cradled her head and closed his eyes, voice soft with an upbeat to its tone. “Now there’s the woman I married.”

He held Lucy tightly until her sobbing slowed, eventually pulling away just enough to wipe the tear trails away. “Shall we go home now?”

Lucy nodded. “Please….”

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu ficlet #nalu fan fiction #angst #asks and answers

67 notes · View notes

kittydripuwu · 3 years

Note

Hello omegeee I'm so happy when I found your request open T____T. Can I request for Chuuya x female s/o fic angst to fluff or slight/implied nfsw in the end(if its okay to you , if not it fine hihi) where S/o is a civilian and got hostage, hurt, or kidnap what ever u like and then chuuya found out and gone rage mode and save her after that he tells her that he blame himself for getting her in trouble or hurt. Omege I know it's too much u can change few things. Thank youuu in advance. Sending virtual hearts and hugs

thank you for ur request <3 i rlly enjoyed writing this one, hope you like it :)

i'll protect you | chuuya x fem!reader

word count - 1211

warnings - some angst, abit of violence, swearing, implied nsfw at the end

genre - angst, fluff

it was a nice and warm day outside, and you had decided to go out. after it raining for the last 3 days, you needed some air. chuuya left to work early and you were going to walk around yokohama and maybe do some shopping. you were feeling good about yourself, wearing a nice outfit and just listening to music as you walked.

you were walking by an alleyway, when someone grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards them, causing you to fall into the alley. you looked up to see a young looking guy in a hoodie. before you were able to ask him who he was and what he wanted, two more guys ran up behind you. the guy in the hoodie kneeled down to your level and grabbed your face with his hands.

"don't say a word, and we won't hurt you" he said.

you were scared, you have no idea what would happen to you. you tried to think of a way to get away but you were cornered in this dead-end alleyway, with 2 guys blocking your way out. you thought that maybe if you tried to run really fast, you could have made it and ran away. as you were about to stand up and make a run for it, one of the guys grabbed your wrists and tied them together from the back.

you were scared to yell, what would they do to you? if only chuuya was here.. you thought.

soon enough, you heard a car pull up on the street which the alley was looking out on. they put tape over your mouth, making sure you don't yell, and dragged you inside the car. the drive was awful, you had no idea what was going on, you were trying to struggle against the ropes but it only resulted in one of the guys, slapping you, hard, right on your cheek. it hurt, you felt a stinging sensation and began to cry.

soon, you were brought into a house, quite secluded, in a small forest. you were placed into a room, and locked in there, with no phone or bag.

meanwhile, chuuya was pretty much done for the day, it was around 6 pm and he had nothing else to do for mori that day so he decided he would call you to check if you were home, or if you were out so he could meet you wherever you were.

the kidnappers had taken your phone. you heard it ring and tried to struggle or make any sort of noise, but of course, no one would have helped you.

"ah its the fucking bastard calling" you heard one of the guys speak to the others.

"watch him get all sad and worried about her"

"he killed my older brother, so this is what he fucking gets. soon, his precious little girlfriend will be as good as gone to him"

"do you think he'll find us here?"

"nah man, we're in the middle of a fucking forest, how would he find us here"

they all began to laugh. these were distant conversations you were hearing coming from your kidnappers, meanwhile, you had tears flowing from your eyes, and you were consumed by fear. why did they take you? why YOU?

when you weren't replying to chuuya, he began to panic, he knew you always had your ringer on, so why couldn't you answer? what had happened? where were you?

oh wait. he remembered that he had your location on his phone. you shared your location with each other so you could always know if either of you were in trouble. he opened the location app and it showed that you were in a forest, not far from where he was.

when he got there, he heard men's voices, but no sign of yours. he felt rage building up inside him. he was gonna beat the fuck out of whoever laid a hand on you. he kicked the door down, only to see 3 guys standing around a table.

"where the fuck is y/n" he said, sounding angrier than ever.

the guys began to laugh.

"follow me" he said, leading chuuya to the room which you were tied up in.

he opened the door to reveal you tied up, crying, unable to speak due to the tape on your mouth.

"fuckers" he muttered under his breath right before one of the guys tried to hit him with what looked like a bat.

chuuya instantly knocked the guy unconscious.

"dont you ever fucking think of laying a hand on my girl ever again" he said as he easily took out one more guy.

the last one was left, pointing a gun at chuuya. this made chuuya laugh.

"you really think you're scaring me?" chuuya said, laughing.

"you fucking killed my brother, and you're going to pay" said the man, as he shot twice at chuuya, only to find out that, it didn't hit him.

"what the fuck?" he said, trying to shoot again.

"gravity manipulation" chuuya said calmly, as he kicked the bullets right back to the guy who shot him.

he then ran back into the room that you were in to untie you and take the tape off your mouth.

"babe im so sorry" he said apologetically as you threw yourself into his arms, burying your face into his neck.

he hugged you tightly as he heard your sobs, letting you cry into his shoulder.

"baby, did they hurt you?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"n-no but they did slap me" you replied in between sobs. you instantly felt chuuya tense up.

"those fuckers" he muttered.

"i'm so sorry baby, i should have come earlier" he added.

"n-no please chuuya, i-its not your fault, please can we go home" you said, trying to calm him down.

"yeah let's get you home" he replied and walked out of the house.

when you got home, chuuya let you clean yourself off and change while he brought you a glass of water and something to eat. after you showered, you saw chuuya waiting for you on the bed. he was sitting up against the pillows, waiting for you to crawl into his arms. and when you did, he hugged you tightly, made sure you knew that you were safe with him.

"i'm sorry love" he said as he gently rubbed your back, feeling you melt in his arms.

"please don't apologize, there's nothing you could have done earlier, i'm just glad to be back in your arms" you said, still trembling a little from earlier. you began to trace little patterns on his bare chest with your finger.

"i'll make sure it never happens again baby, i'll protect you better from now on" he said.

"you're so adorable when you talk to me like that" you said, giggling.

chuuya tilted your chin upwards and kissed you to shut you up before you said anything else.

"don't go running that pretty little mouth now baby, we can save that for later mkay?" he said while moving so that he was right on top of you.

the moment he pinned your hands above your head, you knew what you had coming for you, and you knew, you were going to have one hell of a night.

#bsd chuuya #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya fluff #chuuya angst

123 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 4 years

Note

could we please get some tips and tricks for writing NSFW work?? you write it like its nothing! im too shy to do it!!

oddly enough, smut is one of the easiest things for me to write lol. but ye, here’s a handful of basic and easy stuff you can follow for when you write! everythings under the cut as this is NSFW! :) There’s a lot of writing here btw so sorry if it’s too long!!

SO let’s start with the main thing you need to remember: it’s just sex! Writing smut is a lot easier to do than you may think, even if you’re inexperienced irl, or you’re a virgin. That’s fine! A lot of the all-time bestsellers have been erotic writing, so there's no shame in writing about what a lot of us naturally enjoy. Remember that just like all genres, your first fics are going to be messy. You’re new here, it’s gonna take time. I recommend asking for critiques in your note section and hope that someone is kind enough to point out any flaws/room for improvement. Of course, if you disagree with their critique, then just thank them anyway and move on. It’s YOUR writing after all, not theirs! The best way to break everything down is to focus on our five senses: see, hear, touch, smell, taste. They play a BIG role during sex, and focusing on them during your writing is going to make it a lot easier to write. -------------------

SEE

The first thing you'll want to include is what your characters actually look like. Feel free to mention all their lumps and bumps, their curves and/or visible bones, how their skin colour might change in different areas of their body, etc. What does person A enjoy the most visually about person B?

Do they have a really nice scar that person A likes to trail over with their fingers or tongue?

Do they have a belly that they might be self-conscious about? What can person A do to help calm their insecurities?

Do they have really cute pink skin on their genitals? like the tip of their penis or the inner part of their vagina?

Do they have really long hair that they always take a second to put up before getting it on?

Do they have freckles all over their body?

Do they shape their pubes in a really funky pattern?

You can easily write a nice chunk of writing based on what is visible. For example: 'Person A adored Person B, and oddly enough, it was for all the things that Person B was self-conscious about: The curves of their stomach and the complimentary stretch marks, the freckles that were sprinkled over their shoulders and down their arms, and the scar they had on their hip from the accident that caused them to meet.’

You'll also want to include their reactions! Sex can turn you into a mushy, panting, moaning mess, so make sure to let the reader know how your characters are reacting.

The most sensitive areas of your body are the neck, earlobes, bum, vagina/clit, the penis as a whole, balls, g-spot, prostate, and nipples.

Please remember that not everybody likes all these areas being touched, but most do! But what areas specifically does your character like the most?

Do they enjoy a classic blowjob? Do they prefer them to be sloppy?

Do they love having their clit played with? Especially using tongue?

Do they love their nipples being played with? Maybe including some toys?

Does kissing their neck always get them in the mood? Do they enjoy being kissed there the most?

Again, let's write another description based on those things. For example: '

Person A knows exactly what Person B likes. It's easy to turn them into a moaning mess, and all they needed to do was go between their legs. They'd have them calling out their name within seconds just from the way they ran their tongue up along the veins on their penis, followed by swirling their tongue around the tip before they finally bob their head down their shaft.'

-------------------

HEAR

There are 4 things to think about when writing about hearing:

What's being said (dirty talking, moaning names.)

What noises they're making (moans, grunts, panting, sighing.)

What sounds are echoing around the room (the sound of skin against skin, the creaking of the bed.)

What can be heard around the setting (the birds chirping outside, strangers outside talking, maybe another couple are at it in the other room.)

Let's write an example that covers all 4 of those things: '

Either the passers-by outside chose to ignore Person A and Person B going at it, or they weren't as loud as they thought they were. And my god, they were loud. Despite the music blaring out the speaker in attempts to cover up their noisy morning sex, the noises they were making were much louder. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, and the overloud moaning of each other's names echoed down the hall. How they hadn't had a noise complaint yet was a miracle.’

Now, writing dirty conversations can be cringe, I know, but I LOVE it when I find them in other people's work.

Is Person A instructing Person B what to do?

Is Person A using pet names/nicknames on Person B?

Does Person A dirty talk to Person B cause they know how flustered it makes them?

Does Person A speak more than one language? Do they know a few phrases in another language that turns Person B into mush?

Is this a romantic setting where Person A talking about how much they love and adore Person B?

Is this more of a kinky setting where Person A is bossing Person B about?

If you're unsure of how to write it, I'd recommend checking other people's work! For some writers, writing dirty dialog comes easy, and you can pick up a lot of good phrases from other people's work. PLEASE (obviously) don't copy but be inspired and follow their flow.

If you are after more kinky dialog then porn is a good place to pick this up. Porn is very fake, yes, but some of the dirty talk they use is a good example of what people say during a real setting. Obviously, only do this if you're comfortable with it.

-------------------

TOUCH

Ah, touch. Sex is heavily based on touching each other, obviously, which is why it's a key factor during writing.

Your body does a LOT of cool stuff when reacting to being touched, such as:

Sweating

Blushing

Getting goosebumps/chills

Trembling/Shaking/Twitching

Contracting

Blood vessels may enlarge

Eyes go hazy

Nipples may become erect

Your muscles tense up

Some people may squirt

Skin may flare up when a person's beard rubs over it.

Some people, depending on what the sex is like, may go into what I call 'sex mode.' This is when they become so engulfed in the sex that they kinda lose themselves. This tends to happen during really good sex!

Their muscles will tense and shake without them being able to control it, they may be flustered all over their body, their cock may be throbbing for release, their vagina walls may contract without them being able to control it, their eyes may gloss over and have a hazy appearance, etc.

Lets write a bit of description based on touching: '

Person A loved the little goosebumps that appeared all over Person B's body whenever they touched them in the right areas. They loved the way their cock twitched inside of them when their orgasm was soon approaching, or the way their mouth remained parted and their eyes glossed over. But the thing Person A loved the most was when their orgasm hit; to see their partner tremble from their touches was delicious, and even more delicious knowing that Person A turned them into this mushy mess.’

-------------------

SMELL

To be blunt, sex is stanky! Sex has a specific smell to it, and so does each individual person's body parts. Hygiene plays a big role here, as if a person is clean then they're going to smell a lot nicer, especially down there.

Nobody wants to read/write about a smelly character, it's off-putting, so if your character is naturally smelly then maybe have them go at it in a clean setting? Such as a spa, pool, river, lake, bath, etc.

Trying to describe the smell of someone's genitals is really hard, so don't be worried about skipping it. I personally always do, but you can always describe the smell of the room instead.

Is this a candlelit setting? What scent are the candles?

Are they in the bath? What does the bubble bath smell like?

Is there a fireplace in the room? Does the room smell slightly of smoke and warmth?

Is there incense burning? What scent is it? Is it heavy or thin in the air?

Are they using lube? What does it smell/taste/feel like?

Example time: '

The smell of general sex had been drowned out by their romantic setting. Person A had surprised Person B with a warm, candlelit bath for when they got home. The candles smelt of warm vanilla, and the bubble bath was honey-scented; a romantic combo that Person B loved!’

-------------------

TASTE

Yummy! Or maybe not yummy? The taste of another person's genitals all comes down to two things: diet, and hygiene. Just like smell, a lot of people don't like to read/write about a smelly character, and if your character is smelly, then they're going to taste gross too.

Everybody is different, and all genitals taste different, so if you want to include how your character tastes then you may need to do your own research in this area!

However, lube is a commonly used item and can play a big factor in taste. A lot of lube is scented and designed for eating, and flavours include Chocolate, Strawberry, Cherry, Orange, Watermelon, Mint, etc.

Some lube is designed to tingle, and a person may enjoy that sensation on their genitals. You may want to include that in your writing. For example: '

Person A got out the lube, a strawberry scented tingle lube. After placing a few pumps on their fingers, they massaged it onto Person B's genitals, loving the way they reacted to the tingle sensation it had. And when Person A went down on them, they enjoyed their natural taste, along with the strawberry flavour.'

-------------------

OTHER NOTES

Remember that sex isn't porn. Porn is very staged and forced, despite it being enjoyable for some people to consume.

Sex includes a handful of things, like:

Accidentally getting your hair stuck under another person's body part.

Giggling, lots of laughter! Is their dick not sliding in because there's too much lube on it? And it's now just a slippery mess? That's funny!

Farting :O and queefing! :O

Lazy sex!

Falling asleep during sex, especially when you're having drunk sex.

Accidentally being caught.

Receiving a noise complaint or an angry neighbour banging on the door.

Accidents happen! Maybe you got cum in your hair or on your clothes? Oops.

Deciding not to continue having sex and your partner understanding and respecting that!

Try a new kink? Did it work out? Was it a little weird?

Roleplay? Dressing up? Oooh la la!

PLEASE also remember to tag your work properly! Tag all kinks included, even the stuff that you may not think are kinks/need tagging. You'll want your tags to basically be a little spoiler section for your fic, as you want to ensure your readers can check through them to see if there's anything in there that they don't enjoy, or may set off a trigger.

Also, remember to use paragraph spacing! Paragraphs are usually 2-6 lines. You need regular paragraph spacing to ensure your work is easy to read. A lot of people may have something (such as dyslexia) in place that prevents them from reading big chunks of text, so try and ensure you're catering to a wide audience.

-------------------

BONUS ROUND

Here's a list of descriptive words you can use:

Throbbing

Pulsing

Shaking

Trembling

Contracting

Body spasm

Whimpered

Moaned

Groaned

Ruptured

Screamed in pleasure

Gasped for air

Knocked the air out of their lungs

Craved

Rapid breathing

Gulped

Tensed up

Fumbled

Grunted

Huffed

Gagged

Eyes watered up

Begged

#Anonymous #writing #writing help #writing advice #smut #lemons #how to #basics #writing basics #descriptive #descriptive text #the rat teaches

90 notes · View notes

obeymeluv · 4 years

Note

Hi lovely! I’m not sure if your requests are open but I just worked out for the first time since ive gotten super depressed! It might not be that big of a deal but can I get some geadcannons on how the brothers would react to this? (: (their lover working out for the first time in months because of their mental illness)

I respect this so hard and am super proud of you. I have similar struggles so it always makes me happy to see someone able to get back up. Good job :) These headcanons will be short because I’m getting ready for bed and have to get into school mode, but here you go! ♥

Lucifer

It wasn’t uncommon for him to wake you up, or even gently start the day by sitting at your bedside and whispering sweet nothings

He opens the door soundlessly, as always, and is quite surprised to see you in the middle of doing a yoga series. Thankfully, your back is to the door

Pride blossoms in his chest and, for the first time, it doesn’t feel heavy like the burden of his sin

It’s warm and joyful and feels like an old memory of the Celestial Realm, a call back to happier days

His eyes mist over a bit but no one can confirm it

Lucifer is a perfect, beautiful statue that watches for a few poses before slowly inching back towards the doorway to peek around the corner

Pretends like he never saw anything when you go about the rest of your day, but is absolutely glowing when he looks at you.

Lavishes you in his fancy praise, as always. (”You look enchanting, my love. Simply radiant today.”)

Mammon

He’ll deny it to the day he dies, but he craves your company.

Actually, he’s more likely to admit it when you’re in a depressive episode because you’re tender and vulnerable and that’s how he really is when he lets his guard down. That’s when people need the most love, and you’ve put him back together so much that he wants to repay the favor 1,000x fold

Mammon’s very surprised to see you running careful laps up one set of stairs and down the set on the other end of the hallway (that explains why it took him so long to find you).

It’s like speed walking. He watches for a lap and a half to make sure you’re not rushing off anywhere. You know, making sure nothing’s serious

When he realizes you’re exercising in earnest he’s super stoked. Like, #1 hype man.

“That’s my human! Yeah!” Mammon becomes your cheerleader

Drops sly comments about how it’s actually a good glute workout and he’ll give you a massage afterwards

Keeps up with you more than you’d expect (models train hard, okay?) but does get bored. Maintains cheer position

Carries you around the rest of the day when your legs are sore

Levi

Levi had to do a fair bit of research on depression when he realized you weren’t converting to being a fellow otaku shut-in

The two of you still enjoyed cuddle times, and sometimes he could engage you in games, but the health of his beloved was important! Humans couldn’t be without exercise for too long or it would be bad for them

It’s super awkward but he tries to invite you swimming and things. Sometimes you just don’t have the energy. He understands, and is totally down for cuddling you (with partial back rubs) while playing games

Makes sure you eat and definitely splits his rations

Enjoys the small walks from his room to yours, and makes sure you guys drift between them a couple of times a day. That helps humans, right?

Levi realizes fairly quickly that you haven’t been to his room in a while and goes to check on you

You’re hopping in patterns across the floor, slowly making your way to his room.

You look like you’re having fun!

He’s not sure what you’re doing, but you hop, you squat, then you lunge.

You lock eyes with Levi mid-lunge and wobble a bit. He’s a little pink in the face, but because he’s laughing in sheer delight at how spooked you looked.

You end up flopping over and Levi crouches beside you, offering his hand

When he hears you finally had a burst of energy and wanted to work out, to start over again, he’s very proud of you

May or may not have compared you to Henry and shared some of the more harrowing moments the hero went through (also how he’s awesome and came back better than ever!)

Invites you for a swim and you actually accept

After some laps and splashing about, you spend time floating and cuddling

Satan

Depression is sometimes just a thing humans go through, Satan is finding out.

Between Devildom books and human books, he kind of understands

It’s a thing of time, and sometimes other methods help. He personally thinks the lack of sun in the Devildom is the main culprit

Gives you healthy snacks and tracks down vitamins

Tries to get you to walk the gardens but realizes he can’t force it

Sometimes he gets you outside, reading under trees and lanterns

Satan roamed the House of Lamentation, intending to steal you for another outside reading session, and was surprised to find you out there already

He watched from a high window, peeking tentatively from behind the thick curtain, and let the amused smile cut his lips

Suddenly, you disappeared out of sight. Satan waited for what felt like ages until the logic of ‘the fastest way between Point A and B is a straight line’ kicked in. He held his book carefully, unlatched the window, and jumped out

Demons have good joints and sturdier bodies. The drop and landing was nothing for him.

He calls your name and starts walking around.

It’s not until he’s made a full lap and you’re giggling (behind him somehow?) that he realizes you’re just leisurely walking laps around the house

Super embarrassed that he got worried (and that you ended up behind him). Jumps when you touch his shoulders or if you hugged him around the waist

You’re happy and...yourself for the first time in a while and Satan’s heart is so happy. Before you can break the hug, he twines his fingers with yours and just holds your hand to his body

Eventually you break away, kiss his shoulders, and start a game of tag that turns into sky-watching, and laying on his chest as he reads

Asmodeus

He knows how to break hearts but he ALSO knows how to fix him

He’s always trying to get his brothers to hang out and make good memories. Despite what he says and how he acts, he really cares for them from the bottom of his heart

You count, too. You’re like, top tier. Basically family. VIP space. Maybe SPOUSE space (but that’s too fast for a human, right?)

Though rare and private, Asmo has his bad days, too. They can either be fixed, or they can’t. Usually things are just distractions. The heart will heal in its own time.

Asmo went to your room with the latest round of pampering but stopped short of announcing himself. Does he hear...music?

Nudging the door open with his foot, his eyes light up so pink the gradient is disappearing.

You’re dancing and humming, making faces at yourself in the mirror.

His heart clenches with a beautiful pain because you’re so vibrant and lively and he knows it was hard for you to find this again

The pampering is abandoned for an impromptu PRIVATE dance party

Silly and sweet things, waltzing and just being close, hugging as you sway side to side

Lots of forehead kisses and pet names.

Beelzebub

He didn’t think your behavior was out of the ordinary since Belphie slept a lot.

Beel is always motivated by something--food, sports, working out, family stuff--so he’s not familiar with the lack of desire to do anything

When he learns you’re not just catching up on sleep and you might be having a rough time, he asks Lucifer and Satan what to do

They decide you should work out. That releases endorphins in humans and that sounds like what you need!

The attempts don’t go well, but you’ll at least come out of your room and be a resistance weight for him

Beel went into the weight room to do some pre-warm up exercises. He was mentally planning his reps and figuring out what muscle groups were on the schedule when he heard the clinking of weights

His brothers had other ways of working out so that meant only one person could be in the weight room

Beelzebub stamped down the urge to rush in and watch you in all your occupied glory, reminding himself you could drop a weight on yourself (or worse)

His purr gives him away

He’s proud, borderline excited, and just purrs long and loud from the entryway

Jumps into the workout with you, doing light exercises

Beel gets a little playful adjusting your posture, but it’s all sweet hugs and rocking you back and forth

Regardless of what muscle groups were on the schedule for the day, it’s arm day because he’s lifting you up, throwing you a little, and catching you in his arms

Give this happy, snuggly boy some kisses

Belphegor

He can sense your state of mind by the nature of his sin. He sleeps a lot and has a knack for telling when someone’s sleep is anything but restful

Belphegor’s not 100% sure, but he thinks he can tap into your dream space. There’s this little ball of sad-tired-something that lets him know you’re not okay

There’s quiet mini-dates that ease the sting of your sadness, but he knows it’s not enough

When he sleeps, he has dreams about you being happy and hopes he can push them into your mind

Cuddles fix things. He’s down for couple naps.

Belphegor goes in and out of sleep; it’s during one of his periods of waking that he notices you’re not there

Hugging his pillow, he shuffles about the House of Lamentation to find you

He finds you cleaning and organizing the kitchen. Cleaning is a sign of healing, right? Lots of movement?

Belphegor realizes you’re doing more than cleaning. You’re stretching and lifting things like they’re Beel’s weights

It looks time-consuming, and like you’ve been at it for a while

Belphie plonks his head on your shoulder, asking how you’re feeling. He’s got that sleepy Cheshire Cat smile

You’re just as happy as can be, happier than he’s seen you in a while, and you celebrate by stealing a bunch of snacks and making a blanket fort in his room

Hope you liked it :)

100 notes · View notes

haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years

Text

Professor Kuroo Part Two

slides this across the table in a humble offering that it’s been 3 weeks since my poll pls forgive me

part one

Love y’all, J

You hate yourself for what you’ve done. But with the convention around the corner, your higher-ups are rightfully confused as to why you want out of Dr. Kuroo’s project so late in the game. You try to chalk it up to wanting to ‘broaden your horizons’, but even that doesn’t convince them fully. Instead, they tell you to continue working with Dr. Kuroo while also giving you some small task on Dr. Yu’s project that you’ll probably complete in two days.

So, Monday morning after that meeting crushing your hopes of just brushing what happened in the library Friday night under the rug, you trudge back to your desk trying your best to ignore the whispers following you as you go. Word spreads like wildfire around here. You’re not surprised, your request came out of the blue, particularly since up until now it seemed like you’ve been working fine with Dr. Kuroo.

Which…you have. Up until last week.

It isn’t that you don’t like him anymore, or that you don’t return his feelings—obviously not considering your reaction to his move on you. It’s more that you think it won’t be fair to either of you to go on pretending like nothing happened, because god knows you don’t even know if you can. Which is why it would be best if you stayed away from him, no reason to torture yourself like that. Or him.

Though, it looks like you’re just going to have to grin and bear it. No matter that you spent the entire weekend trying to stop thinking about what happened—and miserably failing. Any spare moment you had, without your permission, your brain would drift to the sensation of his hands clasped to your waist; his lips on yours, and from there you couldn’t stop imagining what would have happened had you let him continue.

That’s usually about the time you shoved your face into the nearest pillow to scream into or slapped your cheeks to bring you back to reality.

You think you can do it, act normal around him, give no inclination that anything is different. As much as you’re going to hate it, mainly because it’s going to hurt him, nobody—and you mean nobody can have any suspicions.

That is until he strides in the office door, looking more jaw-dropping than usual. You always had a hard time controlling yourself whenever he rolled up the sleeves of his button-up, but today he’s topping it off with the rare sight of his glasses and tousled hair looking notably unruly this morning. Judging from the glasses, hair, his bag practically bursting, and the numerous rolled up papers beneath his arm, it’s been a rough morning.

The dark circles under his eyes suggest it’s been a tough weekend as well.

You bite your lip, hoping it’s because of the conference and not you.

His eyes land on you almost immediately, expression giving away nothing. You are surprised that he makes his way over to you, drops his things on your desk in a huff, breathlessly explaining, “I have a meeting in like two minutes, I can’t make it back to my office in time, I’m sorry to ask you this but—,”

You go on autopilot mode, reassuring him, “I’ll handle it, just go!”

He gives you a grateful smile before jogging off to the conference room.

Truthfully, he’s glad he’s had a whirlwind of a morning, otherwise he doesn’t know how he would have approached you so normally. And he’s surprised at how receptive you were to him, he thought you’d be avoiding him, especially since you requested to switch off his project.

He frowns. He is not in the mood to think about that right now. It was bad enough being unable to focus this weekend, because if he lets himself, he’ll get consumed with thoughts of you. He’s thankfully able to think about something else during the meeting, distracted by data reports from other faculty and details about the conference. Upon the conclusion of the meeting, he’s surprised there’s no discussion about your request to transfer. As of now, all he knows is that the request has been made, there’s been no word on its verdict.

Before he can head out, he is by no means shocked when the head of the department asks him to follow him to his office. He does his best to remain as indifferent as possible as he follows him, making a point to ignore you as he passes your desk on the way to the back.

The door closes behind him, and Kuroo sets his expression straight, no need to give Dr. Takahashi any reason for suspicion.

“Are aware that your graduate student requested to be switched off your project, Dr. Kuroo?”

One of the reasons Kuroo respects his colleague so much is that he never dances around the subject, but right now he wishes he’d sound a little less accusatory with that statement.

No reason to lie here either, so Kuroo nods passively, replying with a noncommittal, “I did. Dr. Yu emailed me about it this weekend.”

He raises a brow. “Any idea why? There hasn’t seemed to be a problem all year, and with the conference coming up, it’s a bit unexpected.”

Kuroo takes a moment to consider what you might have said when probably asked a very similar question when you made the request. He’s certain you didn’t come clean about the situation, otherwise he’d be dealing with a much different person right now. “I’m sure they were looking for more to do,” Kuroo rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and judging by Takahashi’s expression he hit the nail on the head. “I can’t seem to give them enough, every time I turn around, they’re already finished and onto the task.”

Not entirely true, you do finish tasks quickly and diligently, but you’re pretty good about keeping yourself busy. He rarely has to explicitly tell you what to do next. He did when you first started, as expected, but by now you’ve gotten the flow of things and can work seamlessly with him like you’re reading his mind. Other professors are jealous and wish you were their graduate student, so he’s heard.

“Ah, well. Unfortunately, I denied the request. We’re winding down to the conference anyways, there’s not much to do anywhere. I’ll revisit it once things pick up again and see where they’re at.” He waves Kuroo out, and he almost sighs a breath of relief once the door closes until he realizes what comes next.

Facing you.

God, he’s gone over this situation over and over in his head all weekend, but now that it’s here his stomach is twisting into knots at the thought of confronting you. He wants to bring it up, thinking it would be best to talk it out, see where the other person is at, but not here. Not somewhere with the risk of someone overhearing.

He at least gives you the curtesy of approaching your desk from the front instead of behind like he usually does, as he found it amusing watching you jerk in surprise in your chair—no, even that’s too dangerous. You watch him carefully, wondering just what exactly he’s going to open with.

“Are you doing anything right now? Do you want to go over this week’s plan in my office?” He asks, unaware that the nerves coiling in your chest unravel slightly at his mundane request. It’s familiar, the two of you usually hash out the week on Monday to ensure an efficient plan, and you’re glad he started with that and not something ominous like, we need to talk.

Though there is an underlying suggestion in the seemingly simple question.

Go over the plan, in his office. A key detail that anyone else wouldn’t blink twice at.

You, on the other hand, fear an ambush. But part of you wouldn’t mind talking it out so there isn’t this air charged with anxiety that you can already feel simmering between the two of you.

“No, I was waiting for you to finish your meeting so we could go over the week.”

He smiles softly at you, and the expression that sends your heart thundering against your chest. The trek back to his office lets your nerves ramp up, making you paranoid about all of the possible things that aren’t the plan for the week he’s going to bring up once the door shuts. The closer you get, the more your mindset shifts from maybe being willing to discuss things to wanting to completely and utterly forget it, and go about your lives blissfully ignorant.

You’re glad he doesn’t take a seat behind his desk, which would have made you feel even more skittish that he’s planning on having a serious talk with you. Instead, he sinks into one of the two armchairs in the corner; a place the two of you have spent many hours in discussion over a cup of coffee in. You didn’t think it possible, but somehow that’s worse that him sitting behind his desk. This is far more…intimate.

He just looks at you, reading you so easily you hate it, saying, “I’m not going to bring it up. Not here.”

“Why not?” The words tumble from your mouth without much thought. You loathe how pathetic it makes you sound. His eyes softening only make it worse.

Choosing his next words carefully, he eyes the door behind you and lowers his voice, “Do you want to?”

He notices the flicker of your jaw. You’re contemplating something, so he just waits, despite his emotions rearing to bubble to the surface.

“I—uh…no. I’d rather not.”

You aren’t expecting the finality of those words to make your heart feel heavy in your chest. Like you’re closing a door that you’ve been wondering if it would ever open since meeting him and…it doesn’t sit right. None of this does. But you must continue on the way it is, there isn’t another choice, as much as you hate it.

You’re shocked to hear what he says next.

“Do you ever?”

Up until now, you were finding it difficult to look at him. But with those words, your attention snaps to his, getting pinned by his golden gaze. Without much thought you say softly, “I don’t know.” You wish he would wipe that stupid fucking expression off his face. It simultaneously makes you want to grab his head between your hands to kiss and slap him across the face. You have to resist the urge to do either, unfortunately.

“That’s fine,” he says, so nonchalantly you grit your teeth. He was the one to confess his feelings to you. It’s making you feel so childish how much you’re struggling with your emotions when he seems perfectly fine. Little do you know; he’s hiding his channeling his true feelings into gripping the armrests as hard as he can. At least you didn’t shut him out completely. “So,” he scratches his chin. “Your request to switch projects was declined.”

You visibly straighten. “Now that’s something I don’t want to discuss.”

He smirks, unable to resist his prevocational tendencies. “What are you afraid of?”

He watches as your fists ball, unsure if his tactic is going to work out in his favor or not. “You said we wouldn’t talk about it here!” You hiss, lowering your voice to barely a whisper.

Leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees he proposes, “You’re right. How about tonight, The Brew at eight?”

“I am not going on a date with you! That’s the complete opposite of what we should do!” You whisper as angrily as you can muster.

“Just a humble meeting between colleagues,” he says simply. “Nothing else.”

Your eyes narrow, and he hopes with all his might you’ll agree to his request.

His heart soars as you say, “Fine. Just talking.”

“Just talking,” he nods, sincerely meaning it. You’re both adults here, and he’d like to settle this before it blows up in your faces.

He’s glad that you relax and slump into the chair beside him. “Can we talk about the week now please?” You hate how much you love the grin that lights up his face.

And as nervous as you are for tonight, you also feel a strange sense of calm about it. Relieved to get some things straight after a rather tumultuous weekend.

and now forgive me that there’s going to be a part 3 😈

part three part four

#haikyuu x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurō #kuroo scenario #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou scenario #professor kuroo #kuroo tetsurou reader insert

163 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Toffee: Chapter 3

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Gordon, Scott, John, Grandma, Tracy Family

Not quite such a long wait for the next instalment this time. The next chapter of my response to @gumnut-logic‘s #irrelief prompt “toffee on the couch”, and the second of my three fic offerings for Thunderbirds Day, we have a little more scheming and Scott’s tale of woe continues.

<<<Chapter 2

The explosion of expletives from his eldest brother were clearly audible even from where Gordon was floating in the pool. It didn't take a genius to surmise that Scott had just discovered the toffee on the chair, and probably by sitting on it.

As far as pranks went, it was simple but effective. No-one had been in the room when Gordon had slipped the small chunk of toffee, warmed in the microwave under his watchful eye and Grandma's carefully blind one, onto the seat just after dumping his mud-lathered uniform off in Scott's despairing arms. Barring Grandma, none of the island residents had any idea that the toffee hadn't just slipped out of Scott's pocket earlier a la the first incident style, and both Grandma and their ever-watchful Eye in the Sky were firmly on his team. It had been John that had struck a conversation up with Alan to keep him out of the way, after all.

Grandma's voice carried clearly from the kitchen as she hollered up at Scott about minding his language. There was the vague threat of washing his mouth out with soap in there, and Gordon could well imagine the look on Scott's face as he called an apology back down.

He suspected Scott was already sick of soap. The washing machine had been a stroke of genius, even if he did say so himself. A little bit of toffee in Scott's jean pockets wasn't even suspicious, not when toffee in his pocket had been the start of it all. Add in an unaware Alan proving him the perfect alibi, and there was nothing to even suggest it wasn't an accident. Still, there was revenge and there was cruelty, and even Gordon had limits. Virgil would get the machine repaired by the end of the day, as long as no more rescues cropped up, and Gordon wasn't about to keep crippling it.

Scott wouldn't be the only one getting suspicious if it kept breaking, and he had no plans to get Virgil on his back, especially as his older brother was clearly annoyed about having to fix it the first time. If he realised it was intentional rather than accidental, well, that would probably be the end of a squid. No, Gordon had to keep things fluid, unsuspicious. Neither John nor Grandma were providing ideas, but as long as they kept providing the means and alibis (when an innocent Alan didn't do the job for him), he had a week to prank with his brother with no fear of retribution.

Scott's toffee stash would last a week, easily. Even if he turned to it as comfort food. Gordon hoped he did; it would be much easier to pull off his plan if Scott continued to eat the stuff. He had John on Scott-watch for that exact reason. True to form, John hadn't told him where the stash was, but he had suggested where a really good hiding place away from younger brothers might be, and sure enough, Gordon had found a whole mountain of the stuff there.

It was a literal mountain. Gordon had no idea how Scott's teeth hadn't all rotted yet. His ached just looking at it.

Above him, it sounded as though Grandma had gone to investigate the cause of Scott's language, because she was still berating him for it. As tempting as it was to go up and see the scene with his own eyes, Gordon had been a prankster long enough to know that returning to the scene of the crime automatically made him suspicious. Content that Grandma had it all in hand, he rolled over onto his front and continued his laps.

He eventually left his beloved water at a call for dinner. Reluctantly, of course – the call had come from Grandma, and just because she was helping him prank Scott didn't mean she'd suddenly become a competent cook. Unfortunately, the pool was right by the kitchen, and with his grandmother standing just under the eaves, there was no way for him to pretend he hadn't heard the call.

At least none of his other Earthbound brothers were escaping, either. John was invariably munching on some dehydrated just-add-water feast above their heads, and not for the first time Gordon thought it thoroughly unfair that he had the better deal. Dehydrated food was not supposed to be better than good old fashioned home cooking.

Maybe that was why Dad had spent so much time in space. Gordon could hardly blame him.

None of them even dared to hazard a guess at the name of the concoction on their plates, but with Grandma seated firmly at the foot of the table and watching them all closely, they had no choice but to tentatively take their first bites before simultaneously reaching for large mugs of their preferred drink.

Alan mumbled something uncomplimentary into his juice, and Grandma sent him a sharp look. Virgil chose that moment to speak, and Gordon knew the timing wasn't coincidental.

"I've got the washing machine fixed," he said, sending Scott a glare. "Don't break it again."

"I don't plan to," Scott groaned in response, throwing back his squash to get rid of the taste from his latest mouthful. "I'd like to see something other than laundry this week."

"Speaking of the laundry," Grandma interrupted. "I want that chair spotless, young man."

"What chair?" Alan asked, fixing their eldest brother with a suspicious stare when he groaned. "Is one of the chairs dirty again?"

"Some toffee appears to have found its way onto the desk chair," Grandma explained. "Your brother found it by sitting in it." Virgil stiffened.

"If that washing machine experiences another death by toffee, I am not fixing it," he threatened. Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired, not that Gordon blamed him after that hell of a rescue. They were all tired from trudging through mud and then cleaning it off of Thunderbird Two once they got home.

"I'll handwash them," he promised. "I have no idea how toffee even got there."

"You mean it didn't fall out of your pocket this time?" Alan chipped in.

"I didn't have any in my pocket for it to fall out, Alan," Scott defended himself. Alan shrugged as though that wasn't a factor that needed considering.

"You had some in your pocket yesterday, maybe it fell out then?"

Gordon watched a look of uncertainty flicker across Scott's face, before his shoulders slumped.

"I guess that's possible," he admitted.

"You're quiet, Gordo," Virgil commented, and he looked at him.

"Huh?"

"Something wrong?" Toffee incident(s) forgotten, Scott was straight into smothering older brother mode. Annoying, except when it was useful. He poked at the concoction on his plate dubiously.

"I don't think I feel too good." It was hardly a lie; he loved his grandmother but he could also really do without her cooking.

"Try a few more mouthfuls, dear," the wicked witch of the kitchen said. "Some good food should help."

"I don't see that here," Alan muttered under his breath, but Gordon gave her a patented Believable Fake Smile and prodded at his plate some more, reluctantly forcing himself to eat a few more bites. She beamed at him, and he gave her a polite smile back, all too aware that his alliance with her was just as tentative as his alliance with John, and therefore relied on keeping her sweet.

Which, right now, meant consuming as much of her latest cooking disaster as he could stomach.

Scott – oldest, bravest, sacrificial lamb on behalf of his brothers – was the first to cave, begging off on a full stomach and a reminder of the jeans he now had to handwash. His plate was mostly empty, although when he'd managed to stuff that much in his mouth Gordon had no idea, and after a moment of silent contemplation on Grandma's side he was given permission to wash his plate up and leave.

Gordon loved it when his brothers made things so easy for him. He shoved the concoction on his plate around for another few minutes, occasionally taking mouthfuls, before putting his cutlery down with a groan.

"Sorry, Grandma, I don't think I'm going to eat any more." She peered at him closely before standing up and walking around the table to get to him. He wasn't expecting her to press a hand to his forehead, and jumped when she made contact.

"Well your temperature's normal," she mused, and inwardly he groaned. Please let me leave the table, Grandma! "But if you're really not up to eating, off to bed with you." Yes! Grandma you are The Best!

"Sorry," he said out loud, standing up slowly and picking his plate up. "I'll just get this cleared up-"

She whisked it out of his hands.

"I said bed, young man," she scolded. "I can do your dishes for one evening, but I'll be up to check on you once I'm done and I don't want to see you out of bed." She steered him towards the stairs and, once out of sight of his brothers, gave him a wink. He grinned back, before starting the climb to the bedrooms – and, more importantly right now – Scott's toffee stash.

Having Grandma for an ally made a real difference to pranking.

He kept up the pretence all the way to his room, just in case he met Scott. He didn't, but Gordon had long since learnt not to take that for granted. Shutting himself in his bathroom, he called John.

As predicted, the ginger was munching away on cardboard-flavoured food that Gordon would do a lot to have instead of his grandmother's cooking.

"Scott's in the laundry room," his brother told him without preamble. "Brains and MAX are in their lab, and Grandma has Virgil and Alan pinned in the kitchen." Not for the first time, Gordon was pleased Kayo was off doing agent-y things with Lady Penelope for the week. Her allegiance was harder to secure than John's, and even when he had it she was liable to tell on him to Scott or Virgil at any time. Sneaking past her was also much harder. "I'd estimate you have five minutes before any of them move from their current locations."

"Roger that," he grinned. "It'll take me two."

Scott's hiding place was brilliant in its simplicity. It was both somewhere no-one, not even Gordon, would think to look, but so easily accessible that the chances of being caught in the act of retrieving some were close enough to nil – barring John and his All-Seeing Eyeness. Unfortunately for Scott, now that John had Not-Shared it with Gordon, those same factors made it child's play to steal from.

Gordon was careful not to take too much – Scott was the sort of person to know exactly how much toffee he had, and would very quickly put two and two together if toffee kept appearing in places he didn't remember having any and he noticed it vanishing from his stash. Besides, too much and the game would be up before it even began. He took a couple of small pieces from near the back, ones with identical wrappers to many others. Scott would have to be particularly observant and calculating to notice the disappearance of those.

Prizes obtained, he found his way back to his room and connected with John again.

"Grandma's on her way up," his brother warned, and despite having Grandma as an ally, Gordon figured it would be best to throw on some pyjamas and slink into bed regardless – after depositing the toffee in his bathroom cabinet inside one of his boxes of tablets.

Empty tablet boxes that had not yet reached their expiry date made fantastic hiding places for small objects. With the prescription declaring them for the sole use of one Gordon Cooper Tracy, none of his brothers had any cause to ever touch them. Not even John knew about that hiding place. Probably. You could never be too careful with the Eye in the Sky.

"You decent, kid?" Grandma asked, knocking on the door. John flickered out of sight, and Gordon made a noise that was probably an affirmative from under the covers. She took it as such and his door hissed open. Footsteps crossed his floor, and the bed dipped near his head. He looked up to see her grinning back down at him. "As you're in bed, I assume you've done what you needed to?"

He grinned back at her.

"Yup," he admitted.

"Good, good," she said. "I must say, it's a nice change to see your brother away from that desk more. Toffee or not, he was starting to stick to it."

Gordon laughed and she ruffled his hair.

"Now get some shut eye. Your brothers will have questions if you're out and about after I sent you to bed, and with you boys' job, it's something you're all lacking anyway. If I catch you out of bed again, I'll be dragging you back in here by your ear, got it?"

"Yes, Grandma," he agreed; sleep was nice, even if he'd rather be doing a few more laps in the pool. Ah well, sometimes sacrifices needed to be made in the name of pranking.

"I'll see you later," she told him, kissing his forehead – he made a face – before leaving the room.

So, Grandma didn't want to see him out and about? Well, that was what John was for.

"Hey, John?" he called once the door was shut. His brother appeared immediately, and Gordon suspected he'd never actually left, just culled visual. "Let me know when I have another five minutes free on this floor?"

"Sure thing," his brother agreed. "What's your next plan?"

Gordon grinned at him.

"You know the story of the Princess and the Pea?"

Chapter 4>>>

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #toffee #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #grandma tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #gumnut-logic

16 notes · View notes

believerindaydreams · 3 years

Text

Many of the most entertaining things in New Vegas have been the result of my own misinterpretation of thing.

Long rambling thoughts about midgame content behind the cut

So like, I eventually killed Mr House for the crime of being fallible- there's no good setting yourself up as divinely all seeing if you can't take into account a thing like, say, a power vacuum at the heart of your very own strip because the Courier you sent to clean up Gomorrah stage managed a mass hooker breakout and shot every one who thought they should run the place. At that point it's just "can I run your plan better than you can" and frankly if he's left himself so little time to get all these factions as allies he's bluffing out an uncertain hand.

Where was i- ah, but whereas killing Mr House seemed sorta flippant compared to all the things I've shot, Arcade suddenly shifting into "oh NO" panic mode and getting the Enclave on board really hung together with all the NCR quests into a "this is a game about a warzone, there are tired soldiers and bad taste jokes and plodding back and forth and filling out paperwork" this game is so good at portraying the vortex of systems built over years and to a certain extent no longer under anyone's control

Though I was a bit "good LORD" when he asked for five people across the Mojave

Anyway in most cases these were places I had a clue about already- somehow I hadn't ever made it to Westside and didn't linger, Jacobstown would have felt like a slog if I hadn't made it out to Foxtrot

I saved the last one for the fairly nasty sounding Cannibal guy, who I had not met, but seemed a short distance away from the Novac-Vegas road, so fine- how bad was it gonna be?

Only the Pip-Boy said Vault 34 and my heart sank a lil bit, because vaults give me the freakin' heebeegee. I get lost in video game buildings; they give me claustrophobia; open-world game for me needs to have a majority of time spent in the open which is one reason I never got into the series before

As a side point, this also means I don't really understand the whole Enclave thing. I'm relying on the scattered memories of survivors, people who are having their nostalgia tickled, and I hear the Navarro injoke but I don't understand. Was it a vault? Why not?

Meanwhile, Arcade has gone from charming, quietly provocative lack of words to spilling his heart out, self-flagellating just like I figured, and I want to say to him that he's turned a handful of rogues into gods, all his disgust with Enclave philosophy channeled into a twilight that he so badly wants to be a part of.

(That he will tear his life down and kindle a new one on ashes at the right bequest is obvious already. That's the Courier.)

So the six of them are all going to meet in a bunker, propelled by the habits of martyrdom, and I'm worried as I cross the last hill to enter a glowing cave.

The place does nothing to dispel my fears. It is cold and full of unpleasant things and the shift from stone to metal is no consolation. Every step further along drips with rads, I'm in a space suit and swallowing chems like candy, half dying at every new door, the whole hardcore game so far I haven't gone through consumables this much. Gulping down stimpaks preemptively and pumping lead out of a ridiculous Strip bauble, since most of the killing is actually being done by a misfit doctor who's switched from familiar flappy lab coat to a red sweater I thought was pretty.

(I mean it was +10 on energy weapons but it looks very nice on Arcade.)

So we keep going down, and down, and down, corpses in our wake, and I can't imagine what kind of superweapon the Enclave can make but this is the last stand before Vegas. Maybe it's a thing that'll pop out of the box if the NCR fails and the Legion is marching on all the little quibbles of the Strip and Freeside to burn like Nipton.

They'd do it. The people opposing them might think of equal horrors for their martyrdom.

Also I am still hunting for a cannibal.

So after an eternity of chasing and death and throwing myself into flooded rooms to wrestle a corpse for its banal password, I'm at the last door and I can't open it. Sonewhere in apparent miles of identical squalor I have missed something. Somewhere on the other side of that door is a cannibal, maybe even with sanity intact, who has spent years nursemaiding a superweapon and surviving. I am invited to contemplate watching him welcome in five friends and lock the door again, maybe with a request that I bury the mountain so deep they'll never be heard of again.

So I say, fuck it.

I stop trying. We fight our way back up, much quicker than going down, with my fixed determination that it cannot possibly come to that, what good is being the Courier of New Vegas if I have to build it on horrors, if that is needed to save the city, let the city die quickly.

We come back out to an afternoon sky. There would, I think, be a wind. It's clean and open again.

Around the next hill is a dumbass called Cannibal who enjoys dad jokes.

I'm still slackmouthed ten minutes later when Arcade is showing off his bequeathed Bob Heinlein power armor and is all "this rocks lololol"

...and it's mostly because the Pip-Boy is just. That fucked up.

#fallout new vegas #that turned into a creepypasta

6 notes · View notes

slashhinginghasher · 4 years

Text

Icy - Jesse Cromeans x OFC

Marena accompanies Jesse on a business trip to New York. Jesse bitches about the weather and smut ensues.

Note: Marena is my OC. This is not a reader insert fic

She was fucking with him.

She had to be fucking with him, because the thermometer on the wall read 20°F and she was hanging out on the balcony, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were icicles hanging from the eaves. Jesse had the heat in the luxury hotel room cranked up to 75°, was wearing a cashmere sweater and two pairs of socks, and Marena was outside in short sleeves casually sipping a drink like she was on a tropical beach. Actually, Jesse had never seen her look as content on a tropical beach as she did standing there in the frigid winter evening.

As much as Jesse loved New York - or at least the idea of New York - the winters there were goddamn unpleasant. He was a southern boy through and through; any temperature below 50° was unnatural. Next time, his clients could come to him, and to hell with “convenience” or “professional courtesy”. It was difficult to maintain a proper air of menace when one was shivering and wrapped in approximately ten different layers. Simply put, the cold pissed him off, and watching Marena lounge in it like a cat in a sunbeam pissed him off more. For the sake of his ego, he had to believe she was actually freezing her tiny tits off and just pretending to enjoy herself to piss him off.

Speaking of the blue-eyed devil...

Marena threw open the balcony door, letting a gust of freezing air into Jesse’s barely-tolerable haven. She paused in the doorway, blinked hard and coughed once as the warmth swept over her, then tossed the door shut carelessly behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. The door stopped just short of fully closed, winter chill creeping in through the one-inch gap. Jesse was irritated, he really was, but Marena rarely showed much skin, even in the middle of a Floridian summer, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to appreciate what he was presented with.

The sleeve of her shirt slipped off one shoulder as she refilled her glass, the upper edges of the scars on her back and torso peeking out from the low neckline. Her shorts hugged her tight little ass in a way that made Jesse’s hands jealous. As he watched her swallow a mouthful of dark red liquid, Jesse felt his own mouth going dry.

“What.”

Marena was watching him watch her, the flat tone of her voice bringing the word closer to a statement then a question. Jesse lifted his eyes from his perusal of her bare legs, letting all the heat and aggravation show plainly on his face.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the view, but are you fucking kidding me?” he signed.

Marena tilted her head and furrowed her brow slightly.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

She glanced down at her outfit.

“Clothes. Probably.”

“It’s subarctic out there, who the hell do you think you’re trying to impress?”

“Subarctic, my ass,” Marena scoffed quietly, returning to the lounge area and planting said ass on the coffee table in front of Jesse. This close, he could smell the fruitiness of her drink and the crisp, cold air that clung to her hair and skin.

"There is frost on the windows," Jesse pointed out. "The railing is fucking iced over. Arctic."

“I grew up subarctic,” Marena retorted. “This is not arctic.” She took another healthy swig of her drink. Cherry juice, Jesse thought, based on the color.

“Details, details. Point is, it’s freezing, and you’re dressed like a PIGGY.”

Marena’s gaze snapped sharply to Jesse’s, the slight clenching of her jaw the only sign of a shift in her mood. Jesse and Marena often argued over the parameters that designated a person as “deserving to die”, each having very different ideas on the subject. They’d had a fairly heated debate about it over the body of a socialite just before leaving for New York. Like most of their “discussions” on the topic, it had ended with blood shed on both sides, Jesse inside her, and absolutely nothing resolved.

Secretly, Jesse adored their fights. So few people ever stood up to him (Preston didn’t count - he was annoying in a bad way and nowhere near as sexy) and the fact that Marena was half his size and could still hold her own made things even more entertaining. He was uncertain if Marena enjoyed butting heads half as much as he did. Granted, it was usually impossible to tell if Marena enjoyed anything; her default mode was “seconds away from violence” and her poker face rivaled Asa’s.

“All I’m saying,” Jesse continued with a smirk, “is this is HIGHLY out of character. One might think you were trying to SEDUCE me.” He traced a finger down from the hollow of her throat, barely clearing her collarbone before she swatted his hand away. He moved to touch her again, but was interrupted by a gust of freezing wind blowing a small flurry of snow through the gap in the door. Jesse shot to his feet with a glare that had, in other circumstances, reduced grown men to tears. He slammed the door shut hard enough to make the glass shudder, then threw himself back down on the sofa with a huff. Marena studied the bottom of her now-empty glass, unimpressed with Jesse’s flare of temper.

“Are all Americans such pussies about weather, or is it just you?”

Jesse snarled. Both hands shot out, grabbing the girl by the shirt and yanking her into his lap. He crushed his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth before she could even think of biting him. She tasted like cherries, and the fact that she was kissing him back so readily made him think there may have been more than fruit juice in her drink. Marena didn’t fuck sober, at least not without a fight.

Breaking the kiss, he threw her down on the sofa cushions, pushed her shirt up over her breasts, and immediately got to work biting and licking a trail down the scar over her heart. Marena’s hands were moving somewhere around his belt, but he was so consumed in the taste of her skin that he paid them no mind.

At least until she wrapped her ice cold fingers around his cock.

Jesse jerked back like he’d been electrocuted, and Marena laughed.

Her laugh was as sharp as the rest of her, and so rarely given that Jesse could probably count the number of times he’d heard it on one hand. Now, like each of the other times, the sound awakened a fluttering storm in his stomach. And it wasn’t just arousal, either; they were full-on teenage-girl-writing-in-her-diary butterflies. Marena had a knack for getting under his skin like no one else he’d met, both figuratively and literally. He still had the scars from their first meeting to prove it. And judging by the subtle gleam in her eyes, she knew damn well what kind of effect she had on him.

He was glaring at her now, and she was still laughing, her nose scrunched up and her hair spread around her like a black halo, and the only way he could think to shut her up was to kiss her again and shove his hand down her shorts.

She stiffened and bit down on his lip when he pressed a finger to her clit. He drew a slow, rough circle around the little nub, then dipped lower and traced her entrance with a calloused fingertip. Marena drew in a short, shuddering breath and shifted her hips almost imperceptibly closer to his hand. That was all the invitation he needed to keep going. He rubbed a little harder, moved a little faster, adding a second finger to his ministrations when he felt her slickness growing. He pressed his mouth to hers until their teeth clicked together, swallowing her silent gasp as he slid his fingers into her heat.

He pumped his hand shallowly a few times before pulling out completely, curling his fingers as he withdrew. Marena fixed him with a look bordering on open hatred as he slid those two fingers into his mouth and slooooowly sucked them clean. It was as close to begging as he could get her without a lot of work - work he had no patience for at this particular moment - and he’d take what he could get.

Jesse ripped her shorts off and tossed them behind him, then pushed his own slacks just far enough down his hips for his hardened cock to spring free. He lined himself up with her entrance, and, too eager to tease, thrust his entire length inside with a single fluid movement. Marena’s back arched, head thrown back and fingers digging into the armrest hard enough for her nails to leave marks in the fabric. Jesse held still for a moment, savoring the feeling of her tight heat around him, before grabbing her hips and beginning to thrust in earnest.

The room was nearly silent except for the sounds of skin against skin and harsh, shuddering breathing. It was fast and rough, fucking stripped down to its bare essentials. Marena’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the ceiling behind Jesse’s head, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as her inner walls tightened, teeth sinking into the meat of her palm until it bled. Pace faltering, Jesse pulled Marena’s hand away from her mouth and raised it to his own lips, latching onto the wound and sucking hard. The familiar coppery taste burst across his tongue, triggering his own orgasm as he fucked her through her climax.

Jesse slumped forward in a boneless haze, pressing a trail of kisses up Marena’s throat and over her jaw, leaving a final nip just below her ear. Marena ran a shaking hand through her hair and tried to wiggle her way out from under him. Not happening. Jesse tucked himself away with one hand, the other holding Marena’s wrist to keep her from escaping. He sprawled across the couch and pulled her to him, her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. Marena made an annoyed little growl deep in her throat, but offered no other resistance to his post-sex cuddliness.

Jesse smiled against her hair. For the first time since arriving in New York, he felt warm.

#gets home from work and immediately spends 8 hours banging out this bad boy #first time writing spicy content please be nice #i just had a thought that if jesse could talk he'd probably have a southern accent and hoooooooooo BOI #jesse has it baaaaaaaddddd lmao #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #laid to rest #marena polunochnaya #my writing #my character

21 notes · View notes

razor-crests · 4 years

Text

Stomp and Grind

Pairing: (Mandalorian/Dyn Jarren x Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT 🛑

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Delirium[ dih-leer-ee-uh m ] - a state of violent excitement or emotion. A Mandalorian walks into a bar, and it's only a matter of time before he ruins your life.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954169/chapters/52391470

Business was booming, so to speak.

The lower city joint was what you considered to be comfortably packed from your own familiar spot behind the bar, tucked decisively away from the thunderous energy of colorful clientele. Every booth, table, and stool was spoken for, with excess patrons clamoring to huddle around large groups engaged in conversation or bravely attempt to wrassle their way toward you to gruffly request an order. Evidently, there wasn’t enough starfire ‘skee in the system to keep these thugs sated.

You couldn’t scarcely remember a time that you’d seen the cantina as packed as this. When you took the bartending job initially, Taris was no better than a ghost town, a rusted broken-down shell of what it once was pre-civil war. Truthfully, the history of the planet you called home was one muddled with class warfare and deception, but Taris proved to be prime real estate for the galaxy’s most morally ambiguous, despite remaining 70% decaying rubble and 30% ocean.

See, the thing about Taris was that it had served as the galaxy’s punching bag for thousands of years for a reason. In its heyday, over 60 billion Tarisians resided on the planet’s surface, whether they were privileged enough to afford upper city apartments or otherwise. It was an almost perfect waypoint between Hutt Space and Coruscant, two other juggernauts of industry. Skyscrapers towered hundreds of stories high, breaching the cloud cover so unremittingly that the naked eye might’ve deemed them towers to the heavens.

Only, unlike any other ecumenopolis, Taris was perfectly stationed within the Outer Rim, which naturally meant that nobody was enforcing shit.

All this made it a haven for bounty hunters and travelers alike, or really anyone who sought to make some quick currency without answering to a higher authority.

To distance yourself from that way of life would be absurd. After all, you weren’t just any run of the mill barkeep. Your status as an informant was well kept, but implied, as many of the businesses in the lower city area were not what they seemed at first glance. The man that owned the establishment had connections to smugglers, Separatists, Galactic Alliance politicians- you name it.

Live music began to blare from the stage, prompting another eruption of movement from the crowd as clusters of people began to siphon onto the dance floor, faces alight with the elation that only a back-alley watering hole could inspire.

You finish emptying out a glass of something neon green and cloudy, handing it swiftly to the worker droid for cleaning, and shift to lean forward against the counter when a silvery glint catches your eye, weaving within the crowd but out of sight in a mere flash. Craning your neck to identify it once more, your attention is forcibly yanked away by...ugh.

“It’s been too long,” drawled a familiar voice from beyond the bar, and you were instantly relieved to have said barrier in place. The speaker was a Balosar gang member that you distinctly remember from the week before, having had the privilege of cleaning up after him when he couldn’t hold his liquor. The ordeal only came after his vehement effort to coax you into a date. For three hours straight.

He was a lanky young thing, fresh off the docking bay from his homeworld. His clothes were disheveled, but only just enough that it was evident he was trying too hard to appear rugged. His eyes were glazed over this time, though, and you could tell he was barely lucid. You couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he’d last if staying in town was part of his MO.

“Not long enough, Bez,” you retort, instinctively. Funnily enough, your second instinct was to casually slide your hand underneath the glossy tabletop to grasp the handle of a blaster you kept at arm’s reach for safety reasons. You wouldn’t need it, necessarily, but perhaps you could chase him away so as to not be doomed to a shift spent babysitting. It was either that or staging a brawl, which sounded like way too much work.

“You know I couldn’t keep myself away for- hey, what the-”

While Baz was presumably gearing up to give his new and improved pitch, you were checking the barrel of your WESTAR-34 while your hip shifted to rest snugly against the nearby pillar.

“Oh, by all means, keep going,” you continue, the faint echo of a smile edging across your cheeks. You were occupying yourself with polishing the hilt using your jacket sleeve, watching the refraction of light bounce erratically from multicolored lamps overhead.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m here to speak to a man named Jigo Delac. Is he here?”

It’s amazing how the specific cadence of someone’s voice can carry such depth and promise, especially if it’s being augmented by a modulator. It was undeniable; your attention was captured in an instant.

You expected Baz to do something idiotic and ask who the fuck this guy thought he was talking to, but he seemed to slink away almost immediately.

Once you raised your head, you understood why.

“Rough timing, friend. You just missed him,” you respond swiftly, adjusting your gaze higher to meet the stranger’s eyes but finding the distinct gleam of a t-visor instead. Of course.

Your shoulders do something funny, not quite tensing up but rather rolling back as your posture shifted. The lone figure was taller than you by a couple inches from what you could tell, seemingly armored in beskar from head to toe. Well, that was what you assumed, given that anything below his chestplate was obscured by your little firewater-filled enclosure.

“But…,” you continue melodically, drawing out the word while simultaneously leaning in his direction until your elbows brushed the tabletop, “He’ll be back soon. You can hang tight ‘till then, if you want.”

Okay, that was a lie, and a pretty big one as well, considering that your boss had left on business two cycles ago and wouldn’t return for three more. It’s just that something was telling you not to let this one walk away so easily. To see the crowd consume him once again and be devoid of alluring conversation for the rest of the night was an unbearable consequence to dwell on.

He wasn’t the first Mandalorian you had the fortune of seeing in person. Their kind was few, practically archaic, and prone to isolation, but Taris was a hub for anyone interested in mercenary work. It was along the Hydian Way as well, previously passing through what scholars referred to as the Mandalorian Road.

You motioned for him to sit with a quick nod of your head and watched the stranger, this Mandalorian, exhibit an apprehensive indication before settling down on the stool directly in front of you. His helmet, though decisively tinted, left room for some expressiveness. Even though you couldn’t perceive any facial articulation, his body language spoke for itself.

Somebody further down the line flagged you down for a drink, and so you shifted into mixology mode, grabbing bottles off the wall. The man’s presence was certainly assertive. It was also strangely serene, as the two of you sank into a comfortable silence over the next twenty minutes.

His stoicism was kind of intriguing you, though. That whole crowd wasn’t really known for their talkative nature. Still, you were growing more intent on picking his brain. A lull in drink orders prompted you to retrieve two short glasses and plunk them down between the two of you.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” he said, and you could sense he was looking at you. If you didn’t know better, you would say he was meeting your eyes.

“Is it uh, because of the…?,” you brought a finger up to trace the outline of your own jaw in an allusion to the helmet which remained on; this was according to religious protocol, you had heard.

“Mostly, yes.”

You nodded slowly, pouring a shot in each glass anyways.

“Guess I’ll pick up your slack,” you respond curtly, proceeding to throw back both of them.

You could’ve sworn you heard a low hint of laughter from under his breath.

______________

“I just now realized that you never told me your name.”

The roar of the late night crowd had all but died out, leaving wide open space at a nearby table. You had happily hurdled the bar as you’ve done a thousand times before, tossing a rag to KO-6D as you went. Hours had passed, and you suspected the moons to set soon enough. If he realized something was suspect, he hadn’t let on, instead choosing to trade stories for a while.

“Most people just end up calling me Mando,” he answered. He seemed relieved to see the labor droid power down fully, and reclined a little further back in his chair.

Your acquaintance, now Mando, had taken the seat opposite you once again. You drew your knees close to your chest, forever unable to sit in a chair correctly.

“Alright, short for Mandalorian. That’s what you are, but not who you are though, y’know?”

“Should I cut you off?” The tone was playful, and you matched his sarcasm with an airy giggle that trailed off with the surety that he was staring at you again.

Silence hung like a star in the sky for 10 palpable seconds before you blurted out,

“I might’ve uh...underestimated Jigo’s penchant to turn an errand into a business trip. I’m sorry if I wasted your time.”

Now you were stressing a little bit. Was he gonna be pissed? Even worse, would he leave?

Unable to cope with the uncertainty, you get up to go hop onto the bar, perched with your legs dangling off the edge in a sort of retreat.

“Yeah, I gathered that about an hour ago,” Mando said, mostly unfazed. He tilted his head inquisitively, as if he wanted you to finish a thought.

“Did I waste your time, though?” The second you say it, you want to groan at how stupid it sounds.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, trust me.”

There was a pronounced softness to that statement, and it brought heat rising to the surface of your cheeks. You were looking very hard at the floor, but you heard a distant shifting from his chair as he went to stand before you, leaving just enough room so that you could get down if you wanted to, but you were close enough to see your own reflection in the helmet.

The courage to look back at him accrued slowly but surely, and you reached for his gloved hand first, as a test.

He allowed you to take it, but did little else.

“I don’t usually…” he trailed off a bit shakily, a surprising display of shyness from someone who spoke with such conviction. You noticed at this proximity that his shoulders, pauldrons or no, were broad as hell. You nodded faintly, finding an explanation needless. Your thumb ghosted over the material covering his palm, and you attempted to tug him closer by the arm.

“C’mere,” is what you could muster, and it worked well enough judging by the way he shifted to settle his arms at your waist. You were drawn in from the get go, but steeled yourself enough to reach for the surface of his chest plating first, letting your hands skim the expanse before landing tentatively on his shoulders.

Effects of the firewater still burned faintly within your chest, swirling around in a vortex of confusion and anticipation and more strikingly, want.

Paying attention to where the beskar plating met twiny, thick fabric, you grasped tighter as if to soothe the tension from his neck. Body heat was radiating from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and you felt the strongest urge to bury your face into it.

Just when you expected it the least, he hooked both of his hands underneath your knees, pulling you closer with ease until he was properly stood between your legs.

You had a bit of a height advantage, situated on the chilly slab of synrock. Thankfully, you’d cleared it off earlier, but broken glass wouldn’t have stopped either of you.

You were caught in a light gasp, suddenly at a much closer proximity. Both of his hands settled steadily on your clothed outer thighs. Clearly, you would be thrilled to be rid of every layer, to feel how rough his palms were from the strain of combat as they dug into your bare skin. It was increasingly apparent, though, that this type of intimacy was already pushing his boundaries. Try as he might to inhibit it, you could detect a tremor in his breaths that you couldn’t resist trying to soothe.

You leaned back briefly in order to shrug the patched bomber jacket off of your shoulders and land on the floor, neglected. All that remained was your black sleeveless top, which was already beginning to ride up on your torso, prompting goosebumps to form.

You were mindful of the blaster at his hip, as well as the blades sheathed along his thigh, but knew better than to think they posed a danger. Nobody had a bounty out on you, surely. Your boss took good care of his charges, provided protection. If you were being tracked, Jigo would be the first to know.

Slowly, you wind your arms around the Mandalorian’s neck until your forehead meets the front of his helmet with a gentle thud. Eyes lidded, you spent a moment just like that, imagining what exactly the galaxy was playing at by bringing this masked bounty hunter to your cantina.

You felt his hands hover at your waist for a beat before one came to grip your inner thigh, and you decided then that this slow burn was no good for your nerves.

“Does a girl have to beg for it?” You ask at a half-whisper, fingers skimming the contours of the helmet.

It seemed like this one was full of surprises. In an instant, he was lifting you and making short work of your pants, which you suspect ended up on the floor as well. Left feeling significantly underdressed and equally aroused, you could do nothing but hold on tight as the hand that wasn’t holding you steady brushed your inner thighs, inching ever closer to where you needed it most.

It didn’t even bother you that his gloves remained on, and you arched into his palm, muttering obscenities while he palmed you over your underclothes.

“Only if you want to,” he retorted, more than a little breathless himself. You made an instinctive reach for the sizable tent below his belt, feeling a jolt of satisfaction when he dropped his head onto your shoulder with a low groan.

You sure as hell didn’t see it happen, but Mando yanked the glove off his right hand and proceeded to continue teasing you.

Whimpering in realization, you understood that he wanted to feel for himself whether you were soaked through your panties.

The answer was yes.

Every part of you was screaming for him, eager to come apart under his hands as he busied himself parting the fabric to give you even better friction. One finger slipped in easily, and two had you keening within his grasp. He was enveloping you, and you felt yourself going mad with it, especially when you inhaled to draw in his scent.

It became apparent that this wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak. He was crooking his fingers so precisely, kneading the heel of his wrist into your most sensitive area, avoiding any direct contact that would make you flinch or shy away. Within minutes, you were nearing your climax at breakneck speed.

“Go ahead,” he urged, voice alight with the anticipation of witnessing your peak. His hips had been canting against you with his own need, seemingly not of his own accord, and the prospect of getting him over the edge as well made a whimper bubble to the surface of your chest while you spasmed fiercely on his fingers.

All the Imperial troops in the galaxy couldn’t stop you from dropping to your knees after that. One moment, you were mouthing his clothed length, and the next, he was gripping the edge of the table and moaning words of encouragement, even as he came.

It boggled your mind to think that a brief, frankly juvenile sexual encounter could feel meaningful, dare you say...intimate? Living on the lawless side of the systems had its perks, but trustworthy confidants were in short supply; and people that you’d allow in your bed, even shorter.

The two of you spent a good while catching your breath. You threw the bounty hunter a hand towel, exchanging quips like you’d known each other for years. That fondness, the heart-wrenching ease with which he ran his fingers through your hair- that was worth something.

When you parted ways, you were leaning gingerly against the doorway, having had the pleasure of flustering your Mandalorian all over again after standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to the beskar where his cheek would be.

As you watched him take his leave under the heavy shadow of Taris’ moons, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being sentenced to a great deal of waiting. For what, you didn’t yet understand.

There were worse things than that.

#reader insert #writing in second person gave me a headache but like maybe it was that I was shitfaced as well #the mandalorian #this reader has a 🐱and uses she/her pronouns IG #cantina shenanigans #COUNTLESS hours on wookiepedia that I will never get back #but it's canon bongs exist in Star Wars #table sex #thank u if u read it #dyn jarren #baby yoda #Star Wars fanfic

79 notes · View notes

pinnithin-writes · 3 years

Text

I Realized. Then I Couldn’t Stop Realizing.

Chapter 6: Pleck

Depending on where he looked, it had begun hundreds of years ago.

The Allwheat hit him hard that day. After waking up on the couch next to C-53, feeling warm and soft inside, Pleck wandered to his cleaning chamber for a shower and was immediately assaulted.

It hurt this time, the mocking voice loud and harsh in his mind, and it was all he could do to remain standing under the spray of hot water. He sucked in a breath, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the handicap bar.

“Shut up,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

He ran through his affirmations, tried to fling his thoughts out to something else, but the demonic entity bore down on him viciously until its voice broke his mind open like an egg. His legs gave out and he slammed painfully to his hands and knees, shuddering.

YOU’RE A FAILURE YOU’RE WORTHLESS ALL YOUR FRIENDS HATE YOU THE ALLWHEAT WILL CONSUME EVERYTHING MY POWER IS INESCAPABLE YOUR PATHETIC LIFE IS JUST A MONUMENT TO YOUR FAILURE AND YOUR FRAGILE MIND WILL BREAK UNDER THE WEIGHT OF IT ALL YOU'RE TINY YOU’RE NOTHING YOU’RE USELESS-

Pleck crouched and shivered and took it. His head split with pain. It was so unbearably loud, so relentless and all-consuming. It blacked out his eyes and burned in his ears, assailing him until the water ran cold.

When the voice finally withdrew, his muscles ached from tensing up and one of his knees was bleeding from its impact with the tile. Pleck raised a shaking hand and cut the water off.

“Juck…” he exhaled weakly. He had let his guard down, gone complacent in the presence of his friends. It only made sense that the Allwheat had returned with a vengeance.

Trembling, he stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and gingerly dressed himself. In the weeping surface of the mirror, he caught his own reflection. One of his eyes was heavy with fatigue and the other was plain ruined, gazing back at him like a spectre. His unshaven jaw was tense, his shoulders pulled in tight. He looked every bit as exhausted as he felt.

Why was this just his life now?

He hadn’t asked to be chosen. He especially hadn’t asked to be chosen for something so galaxy-shattering. Why couldn’t he have been the guy who was chosen to tell stupid jokes, or write a novel that he abandoned halfway through? Why did it have to be him?

When Pleck had found Derf on that barren rock of an asteroid, he was dazzled by the stories the old man wove about the Space. It seemed like an impossible fantasy at the time - him, Pleck Decksetter, a nobody of a tellurian from a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere, destined for greatness. After he’d joined the Federated Alliance, he had quickly learned that ambassador work was just as mind-numbing as farm work. Discovering he was chosen for something bigger than himself put stars in his eyes (he’d still had both of them at the time). It didn’t matter that his crew didn’t believe him or that his wood saber snapped in two.

He was going to be somebody. He was going to help people.

Of course, it was only fitting that Pleck Decksetter, tellurian disaster, would be indoctrinated into an order of other disasters. He had wandered blindly under the vague and largely unhelpful tutelage of Old Derf, clinging to the hope that all this searching would be worth it. He wanted it to be real. He needed it to be real, so the sheer nothingness of his life actually meant something.

Traveling to Zima Prime may have been disappointing, but at least it was proof - evidence that his stubborn hope paid off. The Space was real. He was chosen.

Now, it was all too real, the burden of responsibility weighing heavy on his shoulders. Perhaps he had defeated the Emperor, but at what cost? The Allwheat was ripping apart the galaxy, and it was his fault. His fault. Pleck’s. Is this what it meant to be chosen?

Pleck stared numbly at his reflection. Slowly, he started to comb through his hair with his fingers. He looked horrible, white-faced and shaken, but he could at least try and offset the effect with some grooming. He didn’t bother to shave, but he did tie on his eyepatch as an afterthought.

Sometimes, he wished none of this had ever happened. He wished he had stayed on Rangus Six, ignorant and safe, mind undisturbed by a hateful, mutant ghost. It was better than having breakdowns in the shower. It was better than being unable to trust his own thoughts.

But no, he considered, watching the condensation run lazy tracks down the mirror. He wouldn’t trade this for anything. Not if it meant he’d never have met his crew. His friends. Dar, who’d slowly come around from actively disliking him to being a literal shoulder to cry on. Bargie, with her spirit and her strength in the face of everything she’s endured. Nermut’s passion for all that he was involved in. AJ, whom Pleck deeply loved. His curiosity. His verve for life.

He wouldn’t have met his noob without the Space. He wouldn’t have met any of them. It was destiny.

And then there was C-53, the constant, supportive presence that never left his side. The pragmatic droid had never believed in the Space. When Pleck first learned he was chosen, C-53 had challenged him at every turn. In all fairness, he had been newly freed from his restraining bolt, and Pleck couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at the droid for ramming his shins repeatedly, goading him into a fight. He had actually found it delightful - C-53, flooded with newfound emotion, had decided to bother Pleck of all people.

The fact that C-53 had come around to believing in his Space-sensitivity was new to him, and he was still fighting an instinct to flinch away when he asked about it. He couldn’t forget that the droid had been the one to pull him out of the Cone of Silence a season ago, when Pleck’s heart was full of hate.

It’s me, C-53, talking to you. Your best friend. It echoed in his memory even today.

Now he was so much more than that to Pleck, and he had no idea how to approach it. C-53 had remained close to him despite his best efforts at isolation, watching over him when he couldn’t watch out for himself. Pleck felt so strongly for him, sometimes it physically hurt to keep it inside. Every time he was near the droid, he felt transparent, as if everyone could see the undercurrent of longing beneath his skin.

He loved all of his crew, but with C-53, he was in so deep he would be happy to drown in it.

Pleck managed to tie his hair back and let out a sigh. A thin line of blood traced down his shin from the fresh cut on his knee. He should probably go get the med kit from the kitchen and clean this up. That is, if his shaking hands would hold still enough to let him do it.

Barefoot, he trudged to the common room, willing for it to be empty. Upon entry, he saw that AJ had cleared out, but C-53 was still resting next to the couch in low power mode. Pleck paused in the doorway, eyeing him warily, but when his colleague didn’t stir, he tread carefully through the lounge and to the kitchenette beyond. He found the med kit in a cabinet by the fridge.

With trembling fingers, he reached up to retrieve it, biting back a curse as it slipped out of his grasp. It clattered loudly to the linoleum floor, popping open and scattering medical supplies everywhere. Juck my life. He knelt sorely to pick up the mess.

A smooth shift of machinery from the couch told Pleck that C-53 was stirring, making his pulse climb in alarm. He didn’t want his friend to see him like this, pale, shaking, kneeling on the floor with rolls of bandages slipping through his fingers. Hardly able to think. Brimming with heartache.

“Pleck?” C-53’s footsteps were heavy as he approached. “Are you okay?”

“Hey,” he made a weak attempt at levity. “Just uh, picking up all this stuff I dropped… Clumsy me, right?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Pleck’s laugh sounded more like a panicked hiccup. “I’m fine, I just - I just slipped in the shower. I’m-” the bottle of hydrogen peroxide he tried to grasp fumbled out of his hand.

There was a long, agonizing pause as it rolled across the floor and bumped gently against the foot of C-53’s frame. Pleck kept his eye on the linoleum, unable to look at his friend.

Then he heard whirring, and a loader claw clamped onto the back of his robe, hoisting Pleck into the air.

“Whoa, C-53, what are you-”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention,” C-53 spoke over him, carrying Pleck easily to the coat rack on the nearby wall.

He flailed, resistant. “You don’t need to pick me up -”

“Oh, I think I do,” C-53 insisted. He placed the bathrobe, and the tellurian inside it, onto a free hook and let him dangle there.

Pleck stopped struggling, hanging pathetically in defeat. He was so tired.

“Pleck, look at me.”

Pleck looked at him. He was very close, the face of his frame filling his field of vision so that he was all the tellurian could focus on.

“Tell me what happened.”

Haltingly, Pleck recounted his attack in the cleaning chamber. He no longer saw a point in hiding it, incapacitated and laid bare by C-53’s scanners like this.

When he finished, C-53 drew back a little, studying him. He couldn’t tell what was going on in the droid’s cube - the face of his frame was still and passive. Blood continued to run sluggishly down Pleck’s leg, dripping onto the floor, loud amid the silence.

C-53’s voice was stern but gentle when he finally spoke. “The next time this happens, I want you to come find me.”

“I don’t think-”

“I’m serious,” C-53 cut him off. He was so close to him Pleck could hear the hardware behind his face plate humming softly. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately-”

Pleck went rosy from ear to neck. “You have?”

“-And I would like to say that I hate seeing you like this. You’re a good person and you have no business hiding away all the time when you’re clearly hurting. Pleck, you can talk to me.” His vocal modulator sounded almost choked, and it was strange for Pleck to hear.

“I would be a pretty terrible friend if I just stood aside and watched when I know you’re in pain,” he continued. “I’m here for you. You come to me when you need me. This,” he gestured between them with a claw, “is how friendship works.”

Pleck sagged, his chest feeling hot and complicated in the face of C-53’s words. “Th - Thanks. Thanks, C. I’m sorry. I’ll - I’ll come tell you next time.”

He hadn’t realized how closely the droid had been paying attention to him. It made his arms feel tingly - or maybe that was the lack of circulation from being hung on a coat rack.

“Do you think you could maybe, uh,” he laughed uncomfortably, breakably, “maybe put me down now?”

“Right, sorry.”

C-53’s loader claw reached up and delicately removed him from the hook, rotating to deposit him as softly as possible on solid ground. Pleck’s legs shook when he stood, but thankfully they held his weight. He tipped his head back, gazing up at his friend, a whole mess of words threatening to spill out. The Space really did mean for them to meet. He believed it with all his heart.

C-53 indicated his split knee with a heavy clamp. “You should take care of that,” he told him. “I mean, I’d do it, but I sort of lack the appropriate dexterity right now.” The clamp clicked for emphasis.

Pleck’s head went all foggy picturing C-53 bandaging his wounds, so he busied himself with the task before his blush could deepen. The disinfectant stung, grounding him a little more in reality.

“I think we should start looking at ways to solve your Allwheat problem,” C-53 said as he migrated toward the mess of medical supplies on the floor. “Treat the source, not just the symptoms.”

Pleck gave him a cautious look. “I don’t know where I would even start with something like that.” His fingernails scraped at the wrapper of a bandage as he thought about it. “Maybe I could look back at the scrolls? Y’know, see if I missed something. Oh, C-53, you don’t have to…”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” C-53 was picking up each fallen item one by one, depositing them carefully in the red plastic container like an oversized claw game. It was adorable. Pleck ducked his head so he wasn’t staring.

“I think the scrolls will be a good place to start,” C-53 continued, oblivious to Pleck’s furtive gaze. “Do you still have them somewhere?”

Pleck nodded. He could dig them out of where he’d stashed them in storage a few months back. He placed the bandage thoughtfully over his knee, pressing down to make it stick. “D’you think we’ll actually be able to…” he faltered, doubtful. “Fix me?”

C-53 paused to consider him. “Pleck,” he said. “You’re not broken.”

“Okay, I didn’t mean-”

“But if it means you’ll be happy again, I’ll try my very best.” The droid gave him a significant look. “Will you let me help you?”

Pleck crushed the bandage wrapper in his fingers, insides suddenly going soft. C-53 was going to melt him with his sincerity at this rate. When Pleck answered, his voice came out very small. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that.”

To be happy again. He wanted it more than anything.

Chapter 5 <-----> Chapter 7

#ink #fanfiction #mission to zyxx #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work

2 notes · View notes