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newcaptainofsquad9 · 1 year

Text

The Lady’s Man~Becky Lynch x fem! reader

Pairing: Becky Lynch x reader

Genre: Romance, fluff

Summary: After spending close time with Becky during your time as tag team duos, she starts to dress differently, something not only the fans pick up on but you along with Becky’s competition for the Smackdown Women’s championship too.

Writer’s Note: First and foremost, I’m sorry about not updating a certain fic yet (The Astrid, Crazy Rich Asians one. I’m still working on it!) or just writing a lot on here in general. Depression has its hooks sunk deep and work has been draining me more than usual but here I am. One of the things that has helped me lots is wrestling, haven’t watched it since I was a young teen and wow, it’s like interacting with an old friend again. One thing that I’ve also noticed is how much the women on the roster are hot and why I liked them so much. The gay awakening was real. Anyway, hope you enjoy my first wrestling fic!

Word Count: 1, 978

You were classy. If you were to partake in feuds or clap-backs, you kept it high-brow and let your skills in the ring do most of the talking. That was part of your character: Lady Y/N, here to bring back beauty and class to the WWE, an exhausting effort to get through with your in ring abilities instead of full on trash talking. That being said, you did have your moments where you popped off on the mic, especially when Damage Ctrl was involved.

You came face to face with Bayley, Dakota Kai and Iyo Sky tonight; the people of the crowd roaring and chanting, “My Lady” once your music hit and you came strutting toward the ring.

“Aw, here she comes!” Bayley yelled. She pointed off around the crowd and continued to mouth off“Shut up! We’re the top ladies here you heathens.”

“Bayley, all this crying isn’t gonna get you anywhere,” you said. You entered the ring, smiling at the audience, waved and aimed a few kisses at the people, swooning them in the process. “Didn’t Becky and I beat Iyo and Dakota last week and didn’t you lose your championship to Charlotte at the Rumble last week?”

Bayley nodded eagerly, smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah! Lady yeah! I did y/n! But who’s been a champion at all? Me! Not you! Some lady you are!” Bayley exclaimed while laughing and nodding to her Damage Ctrl sidekicks. “Maybe, if you’re nice to us tonight, I can bring you in the spotlight on my Ding Dong Hello show next week. Well, just you and not your man.”

You cocked up an eyebrow at the mention of “your man”, right when the WWE universe all “oooooed” all at once. It was some sort of joke you weren’t in on, yet you caught yourself with a sly grin and went back in on Bayley.

“My man? You making up delusions now, huh, Ms. Role-model?” you said.

Bayley scoffed then let out a snort while turning to Dakota and Iyo. The crowd seemed to react as well, chanting “The Man” over and over.

Oh. Becky, that was who Bayley was referring to. She called herself the man, didn’t mean she was your “man.” Right? And Bayley is totally wrong, the WWE Universe did have their bright moments but they didn’t dictate who did or didn’t belong to you. Especially Becky Lynch. She was your friend and tag team partner. Period. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Please, you might be able to fool these idiots!” Bayley yelled. She gestured to the audience before continuing. “But you can’t fool me and the heart eyes she gives you! Have you even seen her new merch?”

Now you knew Bayley made up insults and material on the fly but you really had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could wrap your head around it or throw your own comment back at her, Becky’s music hit, sending the arena along with Damage Ctrl into a frenzy.

“Aww, now look who you’ve spawned!” Bayley groaned. “How dare you idiots speak of The Man!”

The combination of the loud music, the crowd and Bayley’s irritating yells swirled into a cacophony of noise that left you frozen while you watched your fiery headed partner (tag of course) rush out, all smiles and cockiness under her black shades. It’s like what Bayley alluded too, her outfit and merch was different: instead of wearing her flashy, “Bex” shirt underneath her leather jacket, Becky sported a new shirt with blocky letters reading “The Lady’s Man.”

Your heart skipped a bit at the display; being around Becky was already complex, she just made it twenty times harder. She trotted down to you on your frozen spot in front of the ring, eyes obscured by her shades until she lifted them.

“You called?” Becky asked. She aimed her words at Bayley and the entire WWE Universe, but it felt as if she was just talking to you.

Becky stepped closer toward you, rearranged your hair a little before placing the shades on your head.

“This Ok?” she asked. “Don’t want to mess up your hair, but I just couldn’t resist.”

Her Irish accent always had an effect on you but how low it was when she whispered, with her gesture of the shades left you flabbergasted longer.

“Hey! Flirt on your own time!” Bayley said. She pointed at Becky, who chuckled. “This is between me and your Lady!”

“Woah, woah, woah! You know Y/N and I are a team, like you and your Ctrl clique,” Becky explained. She brought an arm around your shoulder, patting the spot in an attempt to bring you back from your stump. “The Man always defends her lady. Dare I say, she’s got a better chance at Charlotte for the Smackdown women’s championship than you!”

Becky’s words got your chest to flare; you nodded along however, smiling a bit too big as words of your own bubbled up from your throat.

“The Man’s got a valid point though, what do you say, Role-model?” you said.

Bayley guffawed.

“Sure! Yeah right, like she would--” Bayley said. She was cut off by the crowd chanting your name over and over, angering her yet again. “Shut up! You idiots don’t know anything! Y/N can’t even compete with Dakota or Iyo, let alone me!”

Becky cocked her head back, as if her fellow horsewoman’s words struck her face on. She turned toward you, mouthing a “can you believe this?” You just rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“Bayley, keep spouting this nonsense and maybe I’ll have to kick your ass again,” Becky said. She brought you closer, close enough to hook her arm around your waist. “Or! We could take care of Kai and Iyo and they can defend those tag titles for once! Jeez! Those things have been collecting dust!”

You found yourself smiling more as the heat built up your chest. Becky and you only teamed up due to being a great match against Fire and Desire, along with other amazing women in the division but to suggest you both challenge Damage Ctrl? It was a commitment to what you two could do together, although, it wasn’t as grand as Becky proclaiming herself “your man”, was it the direction Triple H wanted or was it something more?

“No way!” Bayley growled. “I mean, they’re the greatest bunch of the womens division they don’t need to prove a thing!”

Iyo Sky and Dakota nodded, a little too swiftly with conflicting emotions pouring through; you picked up on them immediately.

“You sure Bayley? They seem scared. Let’s ask them, folks! Iyo? Dakota? Are you afraid to take on Becks and I? Maybe to even put the titles on the line too?”

The WWE Universe erupted in another fit of chants: you made it out to be them calling Damage Ctrl cowards over and over again. Becky chuckled and pulled you close while Iyo and Dakota went over what was going on with Bayley off mic. It looked as if Iyo and Dakota were trying to talk their leader out of it, you felt quite terrible for them and how the crowd began to drown them out with the noise.

“All right! Quiet you idiots!” Bayley shouted. She gestured for the WWE universe to calm down more, leaving mummers among the crowd and stands. “They’ll accept the challenge, next week!”

You didn’t expect them to accept so quick, believing them to think it over throughout the week or maybe go back and forth with Becky on Twitter(usually ending up with you mediating).

“Yes!” Becky cheered. “We got this, lass.”

You could only nod, lost in the feeling of opportunity: white noise of the crowd and a tingling feeling that warped down your chest toward your belly. A title shot for the first time in your career, with Becky. Becky freaking Lynch.

The thought kept up its constant ringing in your head, even after you escaped the effervescent noise the WWE universe were known to cause. You managed to reach your personal locker room before a hand grabbed your wrist--the action forced you to tense up, thinking it was Bayley or Damage Ctrl.

“Whoa, lass, you all right?” Becky said. Concern clean on her face. “Is it OK if we talk?”

You nodded. Becky shut the door behind you, then proceeded to pace the space, back and forth like a blur of orange flame that flicked from one end of a candle to the next.

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?” you said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Becky froze, attention immediately on you.

“What?”

You let out a humorless laugh and motioned to her new T-shirt.

“The Lady’s Man? It was just a new way of introducing our tag team? Making it official, yeah? Or is it a new storyline that I’m not caught up with yet?” you asked. You pressed your fingers together and fidgeting them while continuing. “I-I just want to understand what all that was.”

“Lass--”

“Rebecca, please be honest with me,” you said. The emotion in your voice was sharp and firm.

Becky rushed over to you, taking your face in your hands.

“Breathe, y/n, I’ll explain, let me just sit you down, OK?” she said.

She led you to the folded chair you had set up by your cubby, helping you sit prior to her kneeling in front of you.

“It was my idea, and yeah Triple H and the people wanted to market it, thought it’d be a great thing to lead up to something amazing to do with the Tag titles,” Becky explained. She took your hand as she spoke, rubbing the knuckles and the underside of a few veins. “But under all of the bravado and what The Man means to me, there’s some truth to it. I really want to try and be your lady too. I-I like you, Y/N, I really do.”

The way Becky looked up at you almost made the emotions break from you, tears flooded your eyes, some spilling over to your dismay.

“Y/N, no, hun, don’t cry I--”

You cut Becky off with a kiss, meeting her halfway as your arms wrapped around her neck. Becky returned the kiss instantly, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. A mini makeout session just about occurred. You pulled back (a little self conscious that you both were still in the arena aka work) but Becky lifted your chin up tenderly, planting a short yet passionate kiss to your lips once again.

“I love that desire, lass,” Becky whispered. “Does this mean we’re to be more than tag team champions in the future?”

You nodded. “That and we’ll have a lot more moments outside of Wrestlemania.”

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #becky lynch #becky lynch x reader #wwe bayley #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wwe damage ctrl #iyo sky #dakota kai #bayley #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wwe becky lynch #damage ctrl

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freuleinanna · 2 years

Text

a short queen

Characters: Kaitlyn Ka, reader

Short summary: Just a little something to lighten the mood, a cute request I had about the reader making fun of Kaitlyn's height :D

Word count: 1139

Tags: @liferszz, @althea-tavalas and all the Kaitlyn squad around!

You’ve been at it for weeks. What started as an ice-breaking comment to Dylan turned into a running joke that followed you through half your stay in the camp.

It was the first day, and you were all getting to meet each other, so when Dylan went over to introduce himself, you nodded a tad awkwardly, partly because he was visibly shy, too, and said: ‘Got it. I guess, I’m just gonna call you Shorty.’ A light-hearted laugh you got out of this 6-feet statue of freaking liberty worked like a charm, bonding not only you two, but everyone else as well. From that moment on, you exclusively referred to Dylan as Tiny, Shrimpy, Hobbit, or by other equally mismatching nicknames.

It wasn’t the end of it, though. All scales have their maximum and minimum values. And some of them were much less happy about being a target for the height jokes than the others.

‘Incoming! Off the starboard, Chewie!’ you’d say brushing past Kaitlyn as she’d be walking somewhere, minding her own business.

‘Wow, hila-arious, ha-ha,’ she’d reply in a snarky tone, not missing a chance to try and kick you slightly for good measure. ‘Big tall wookie, coming through!’

Needless to say, the payback was a bitch, especially so, that you and Kaitlyn had become sort of a couple. Sort of, because one evening you’d sneak away for some alone time, and then the next day she’d be chasing you down the porch screaming ‘I FREAKING DARE YOU, Y/N! FIGHT ME! COME HERE AND FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW!’ In your defense, she never seemed genuinely upset by the nicknames. It didn’t stop her from finding petty ways to pay you back in spades, though. When Kaitlyn stepped on the war-path, there were no survivors.

Her pointing out that the Star Wars’ giant was particularly dangerous and not above tearing someone’s arm off didn’t really work. And so it went: ‘Oi, Bigfoot, sit down, you’re blocking the view!’

And: ‘Yeah, I’m with Eiffel Tower on this one.’

And: ‘Yo, Avatar, what’s the time?’

And even: ‘Guys, this is gonna be our memories some day! Just us, like we are now. Me, Emma, Ryan, Jacob, Nick, Abi, Tyrion Lannister over there, and our very own Long Tall Sally.’

Just earlier today, she got caught flipping you a finger and spent the next half-hour explaining to the kids why this gesture was for grown-ups only. At some point, you’re pretty sure you heard real threats. And as it happens, a bit later she handed you the day’s program with a broad smile and a kiss on the cheek, only for you to find out that instead of the lake festival you were given an extra kitchen duty. Having an activities coordinator with certain power in the camp for a girlfriend had its dangers.

That’s why now you were returning from the kitchen with an ache making a cozy nest in your lower back, and in desperate need of some reward. A pack of Oreos from the storage room would do. Destiny, however, decided to give you a gift beyond your wildest hopes.

It was Kaitlyn, alright. Kaitlyn who, as you walked into the room, was standing on a small stool, on the tips of her toes, and reaching for the top shelf with extra towels. She glanced over her shoulder hearing the steps and froze. Literally every emotion existent in the universe ran over her face. You leaned against the doorpost with hands crossed over your chest.

She jumped down from the stool staring you down. For someone barely over 5 feet tall, she did that surprisingly well.

‘Well, well.’

‘Oh, no,’ the threatening tone didn’t bother you one bit.

‘Ain’t that priceless.’

‘Don’t you even-’

‘Too late, mental picture taken. I’ll cherish it forever,’ you shook the head at her defeat.

Your eyebrows almost flew right off your face feigning utter surprise.

‘I am of average height,’ she hissed.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘One word, and your ass will only see the light of day through the kitchen window.’

‘Uh-huh,’ you nodded again with enthusiasm, unable to wipe the smirk off your face.

‘I’ll deny everything and you don’t have proof.’

‘Oh, for sure!’

‘You’re never letting it go, are you?’

‘Oh, sweetie. No,’ the sheer frustration on her face made you laugh. Kaitlyn propped her fists on her hips, hoping yet to find a reasonable argument and failing to.

‘May I remind you, Y/N,’ she snarked finally, ‘that short people are literally full of rage. It’s the only thing that keeps us going.’

She ran her fingers through her hair and gave you a stern, defiant look. Laughter was bubbling inside you trying to find a way out, and she saw it just as clearly as you saw her. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes.

‘Did I say anything?’

‘Oh, come on!’

You walked over doing your best to act innocent and even slightly offended by such distrust. She was eyeing you up cautiously, but there was nothing to save her from what came next. You leaned on her with the sliest of grins, putting an elbow on her shoulder and regarding the top shelf, speaking sideways.

‘Alright, go ahead.’

‘I seriously do not understand what you mean, Kait.’

You didn’t have much choice but to put your hands up palms forward, stepping aside.

‘But if the lady, mayhaps, needs some help with the towels…’

‘The lady is gonna go feral if you don’t quit it!’ she shook your arm off, caving in and sliding away from underneath it. ‘And if the lady goes feral, you go a week without as much as a hello.’

There was a moment when she was scrutinizing you, prepared to jump right back to action at the mere glimpse of mockery, but it wasn’t there. She gave you the last stern look and shrugged. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded almost plaintively.

‘Fair point. Don’t be mad.’

‘Don’t make me mad,’ Kaitlyn shot right back. Still, with a disaster blown away, she, too, got a bit more relaxed.

‘Want me to grab ‘em for you?’

‘Actually, yeah. They’re, like, really high up. Some of us aren’t giants.’

You chuckled, then hugged her with one arm. With the other, you reached to the top shelf to grab a pile of towels and handed them to Kaitlyn.

She still managed to give you a push with the shoulder as you were leaving the room. A little push, careful enough not to break your half-hug.

‘You know what they say, every friend group needs a short queen,’ you gave her a peck on the hair and slowly tugged her away from the shelves.

‘Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know why I’m putting up with you.’

‘That’s ‘cause you like me, Big Ben.’

‘Unfortunately for me, I really do.’

#she's our baddest short queen!!#the way i love the short&feral combination ugh #the quarry #the quarry fics #kaitlyn ka #kaitlyn x reader #kaitlyn ka x reader #kaitlyn the quarry #the quarry x reader #anna writes the quarry

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tuiyla · 1 year

Note

So I found someone who counted how much screentime each Glee character had during season 1A and season 4, please take a look: cometsweepandleonidsfly(.)tumblr(.)com/tagged/screen%20time

cometsweepandleonidsfly(.)tumblr(.)com/post/58969910312/screentime-on-glee-in-season-4 (make sure to change showthemwhat to cometsweepandleonidsfly in the episodes' links if you want to see the stats per episode)

Do you have any thoughts on these numbers?

✨Stats time!✨

Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention Anon, and thank you to @cometsweepandleonidsfly. Please read the OG posts for more info on their methodology, limitations and all that. Of course I have thoughts, all of which I will cover but first I'll do what tuiyla does best and take this dataset and turn it into something visual. Or at least try.

So to start us off, main characters' screentime in the OG 13 episodes:

I was surprised to see Will come in with over 40% of screentime and decidedly more than Finn or Rachel. Rachel "only" being third is a surprise in and of itself but the favouring of the three "pillars" is clear. The drop between Rachel and Quinn is not insignificant and it reminds me of how big the difference between singing stats often was. Quinn coming in ahead of Kurt and Puck is somewhat surprising, as is Emma and Sue being so low. But compared to a lot of the ND kids, they had significant roles in their scenes. All in all this deffo confirms my view that there was way too much Will early on and the show was too heavy on its three mains.

Season 4 is looking more evenly distributed even if there's quite the drop between Blaine and Marley. Blaine's lead might seem crazy, but he's in just over 29% of the season compared to Will's well over 40% for the first 13. We have more characters but only three more than what I counted for the previous chart so not too bad distribution wise. What's surprising is the newbies, at least the triangle being so high up and Tina and Artie lagging so far behind Sam. Rachel being in the middle is shocking, of course, but keep in mind she fully missed a few episodes and when she was in a scene chances are it focused solely on her. Kurt being after Kitty is more surprising to me, as is Santana being so far behind. Granted, she missed a lot of episodes but my heart weeps anyway. She's still far ahead of Sue and Emma and I'm once again astonished by the mark Jane Lynch and Jayma Mays leave. I wish we had the numbers for Quinn, Mercedes, Puck and Mike here but oh well.

I love that we have a Lima vs NYC stat because it really puts things into perspective:

Wow. Where's the "too much NYC crowd" now, huh. Of course, this explains why even Rachel is relatively low on the list and how the newbies had so much screentime.

What's interesting is the difference in distribution, i.e. season 4's being imo so much better. In many ways it had to be but still. I tried visualizing it via two pie charts of the percentages but they're not that obvious and so I cba to colour them properly.

Instead, I took those percentages and compared the season 1 characters with the season 4 ones. So the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and etc. characters compared would look like this:

That was a nonsensical sentence but what I mean is, red zone is OG 13 and green season 4. The closer the line is to 50% the more the two seasons are alike in how much they feature characters, and the line generally being over 50% in season 1's favour tells us that the main chs there had more screentime. Again this is partly because season 4 had a bigger cast overall; it featured characters not accounted for within the data. But I'd also argue it distributed the more or less same screentime more equally so that's why Blaine's lead isn't the same as Will's in the OG 13. By the way, ignore the names on the line google sheets just didn't let me delete the redundant labels.

Something hopefully a bit more demonstrative: I divided the OG 13 by, well, 13 and multiplied by 22 to "get a full season" from those stats (notably these are not the full season 1 numbers) and compared those minutes with the season 4 ones. This shows you the difference even better even if we only compare the top 5 characters of each season:

Again ignore the labels, they're the season 1 top 5. Will's screentime projected to 22 episodes is waaaay more than what Blaine got in season 4 and this gap really only starts to balance out once the season 1 drop happens with Quinn and Kurt. Even then, comparatively, they were better featured than their season 4 counterparts, Sam and Ryder. To be fair, I'd much rather watch Quinn and Kurt than Sam and Ryder.

And finally, what I love the most: singing stats and bubble charts! The most I could possibly bring to this conversation is adding singing into the mix and see how that compares to the characters' screentime.

See this reddit post for some background on my singing stats database. What you need to know for this is that I have a system for different types of songs not just the number of songs the given character was featured in, so I give point totals and hope it's a more accurate reflection of how much people sang. And how does that compare to their screentime? Well.

Note that this first chart is a character's OG13 screentime compared to their overall season 1 singing.

Rachel sang the most, unsurprisingly, so her and Finn singing that much more than Will while appearing less created this interesting contrast. All three are waaay ahead in screentime as this perhaps demonstrates better than previous charts, and we see that compared to her screentime Mercedes sang quite a bit. But the difference between our 1%-ers and the proletariat is clear and we see how little Kuinn's screentime mattered, in a sense. Sue and Emma are basically nonexistent on both fronts when compared to others, so much so that even Santana with her back 9 songs almost catches up to the crowd. Make of the rest of this what you will.

Since I realized while writing this that I should have probably looked at how much they sang in the OG 13, here's that chart:

Now this looks quite different and is perhaps the better chart to analyze. Finn is further behind Rachel and her lead in singing is undisputable, whereas Mercedes stays between Finn and Will with singing. Sue didn't get a song in the OG 13 and, sadly, neither did Santana so they're missing entirely. Emma is barely there with her one solo but still ahead of Kurt, who had the screentime but evidently not the songs. His sole entry is the Defying Gravity duet. Quinn had comparatively more in the first 13 and that elevates her above Puck and Tina but I still wouldn't exactly say it's proportionate to her screentime. It's quite all over the place, particularly when compared to season 4:

So season 4 follows more of a trend and what would be expected. Meening, no huuuuge outliers and less of an upper 1% feel, though Blaine is clearly "winning" in terms of both singing and screentime. Marley is second in both regards and we see a more or less clear pattern of singing and screentime collating. Tartie sing somewhat little compared to their screentime but most of it checks out as realistic. How the mighty have fallen with Will being last in terms of singing. But then, of course, we have Pezberry, the only two who I'd say are not following the established trend. Both sing more relative to their screentime than most characters, with Rachel almost being up there with Marley and yet being in the middle with her screentime. This isn't a huge shock or anything. But then we have Santana, who's well behind Will in terms of screentime and yet sings as much as Kurt and is in the same ballpark as the likes of Unique and Tina. This means Santana's time on screen in season 4 was well spent, with the likes of Girl on Fire, Nutbush, Cold Hearted and, of course, Mine. A stark difference to season 1.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

A bit baffled by the decision to include chs like Kent and Brad in the OG 13 post but not the alumni in season 4, but hey I'm not the one doing the research. I ignored non-mains for my OG 13 visualizations.

I would LOVE to see this done for the whole series but obviously it's not like it could ever be truly representative and it would take soooo much effort. I'm grateful for this glimpse at screentime distributions.

I know not all of this was super clear and detailed so please feel free to let me know if I should clarify anything. Like I told another Anon, you will be seeing more stats from me because I do love this sort of stuff and this was really fun to explore. Again much thanks that this dataset exists and I hope I could offer something new and interesting with it.

#glee asks #anon #glee singing statistics #glee screentime statistics #glee stats #this was fun to do i hope it's fun to read too #i need to put more effort into analysing bubble charts they tell SUCH a story

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waterhorseyblues-ao3 · 1 year

Note

Number asks: 5, 29, 31, 32 😎

bwahaha youve fallen into my trap of distracting me from nanowrimo, despite the fact i have less than 5k left to write

5. What is your favorite AU?

Huh! I guess technically I've read a lot of sci-fi au fics, but the stuff i read fanfic for tends to lend itself for that. But as a writer I enjoy "normal world" fic where I take them out of the fantasy/sci-fi setting and make them face brutal reality, so there's that!

29. What is your favorite fic trope? (e.g, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED)

Difficult one! I love the "tending to another character's wounds while scolding them" and also "caught feelings when they shouldnt have" like if they're enemies, or one's infiltrating as a spy, or they're forbidden or whatever. love that. especially if the character is pissed about catching feelings.

31. If you could only write one pairing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Not fair! My brain only cares about one ship at a time! I have to say lokius rn because they're the ones I'm obsessed with at this time but-- NO actually no, I want SO BADLY to write my Loki/Theo Bell fic that I refuse to have that taken from me. Loki/Theo forever.

32. What is your all-time favorite fanfiction pairing?

I just said I only care about one ship at a time! Augh, pain and suffering yo've cast upon me.

Technically the ship I do the MOST seeking content for and reading as many fis as I can stomach in the tag is Koltira/Thassarian from WoW so, there you go, undead misery boys it is. I, as usual, am not much of a reader.

#ask #anonymous #smh youre putting me through some stuff here #maybe i WILL go back to nano #go back to writing my nonsense

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

these transcripts are protected by doctor-client privilege and hippa laws and should only be accessed by the verified person(s). please call xxx-xxxx if you are in fear of those laws being violated.

————————————————————————

[dr otsuaka]: hello, [redacted]! it’s so great to hear from you again! last we met, things were on track with your recovery — has that changed at all?

[patient 86]: clears throat um, not really. things are weird, that’s all.

[dr o]: weird how?

[86]: ...

[dr o]: does this have something to do with your roommate, [redacted]?

[86]: nods

[dr o]: does this also deal with you working through your feelings for her?

[86]: she... she doesn’t like me like that. i’m not like... like [redacted].

[dr o]: now, what did we say about negative self talk and comparisons to others?

[86]: ...not to do it.

[dr o]: i know it isn’t easy but you are not [redacted] or [redacted] for a reason. you are you and that doesn’t make you less than! it just makes you different.

[86]: smiles ... she said something like that to me once.

[dr o]: she sounds like a smart girl. you should listen to her.

[86]: ...yeah.

————————————————————————

[patient 12]: —and then she just, punches the air, wham! and it was so intense and i’m pretty sure i’ve never been more turned on in my life because, god doc you should’ve seen her. i know you’re like 50 and gay but.. damn.

[doctor fujiwara]: laughs you are quite the character [redacted].

[12]: i try.

[dr f]: well, it seems as though this girl has become quite the fixture in your life.

[12]: i mean.. yeah. she saved me.

[dr f]: hm... don’t you think you are.. idolizing her a bit? placing her on an unattainable pedestal which sets her up for failure in your eyes? you’ve placed quite a bit of weight on [redacted].

[12]: ... no, no she’s helped me through so much but i don’t, she’s not my idol or anything.

[dr f]: are you sure? you place much of the credit for your recovery on her. is that fair to her, to feel entirely responsible for your health and well-being?

[12]: ...

[dr f]: just think about it, hm? now, tell me again about this ferret you were thinking of purchasing?

————————————————————————

[dr otsuaka]: ... and how did that make you feel?

[patient 88]: ... you couldn’t sound more cliche if you tried.

[dr o]: laughs nothing gets quite past you [redacted].

[88]: you say that as though it is a bad thing.

[dr o]: trust me it isn’t. but on that note, tell me some things you’ve observed this week.

[88]: ...she isn’t eating as much. i think the stress is getting to her.

[dr o]: is it not getting to you as well?

[88]: ...it isn’t about me.

[dr o]: this is your therapy session [redacted], it quite literally is about you. ...have you been neglecting yourself in favor of taking care of her?

[88]: we’re drifting and i do not want to lose her. she has [redacted] and it doesn’t seem like... like she has use of me anymore.

[dr o]: [redacted]... you are not an object to be used. no one can decide if you are “of use” or not — you need to take care of yourself so that when you are up to it, when you are healed and ready, you can take care of the others around you. she is a grown woman and as much as you care for her, she can take care of herself. it is time for you to focus on you.

[88]: ... i don’t know how to do that.

[dr o]: smiles well, that is what i’m here for.

————————————————————————

[dr barnes]: ah welcome, [redacted]! it’s so great to meet you! dr otsuaka speaks of you highly!

[patient 4]: wow! you’re so big! your biceps are as big as my head!!

[dr b]: laughs i do enjoy my time at the gym! please sit, sit!

[4]: thank you for seeing me dr barnes!

[dr b]: no, it’s really my pleasure! when dr otsuaka needed to clear out her client list, i leaped at the opportunity to take some of you on.

[4]: yeah, she told me something like that. i’m just happy i still have a therapist! it would really suck if all my progress went out the window.

[dr b]: oh yes, i have some of your charts here... shuffles papers looks like you suffer from... separation anxiety and ptsd?

[4]: yep, but it hasn’t gotten me down yet!

[dr b]: that’s great [redacted]. i’m looking forward to seeing the progress we can make with one another!

[4]: aw, thanks dr b! you’re so cool!

[dr b]: that’s all you bud, all you. so, what do you think of starting from the beginning?

[4]: well, it all started when my mom met my dad and they fell in love and had se—

————————————————————————

[dr yamada]: wow, hi [redacted]! it’s been so long since we’ve last spoken. high school, was it?

[patient 7]: um, yeah.

[dr y]: so, what brings you back here to see me? do you need a refill on your meds?

[7]: ...maybe.

[dr y]: [redacted]... are you alright?

[7]: bursts into tears no.. oh god no..

[dr y]: that bad, huh?

[7]: yeah.. yeah, it’s that bad.

[dr y]: is it [redacted]?

[7]: sniffles oh, no not him. actually, his girlfriend? she’s back.

[dr y]: oh god..

[7]: yeah.. laughs dryly

[dr y]: well, it’s a good thing you’re here then. do you remember your affirmations?

[7]: how could i forget? i am loved—

[dr y]: in unison —i am deserving of love—

[7]: —and i will love in return. wow, it’s been a minute.

[dr y]: and still, it stuck. yet another example of my incredible teachings.

[7]: just as insufferable as always, dr yamada.

[dr y]: and just as guarded as usual, [redacted]. am i going to have to pry the information out of you this time around?

[7]: nah... i think... i think i really need to talk about it.

[dr y]: good. i am here to listen.

℗ poker face

intermission

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - kekeke a new funky short filler chapter comin up for y’all!!! i’ve done therapy transcripts once before so i kinda wanted to try again??? provide a splash of insight for the hotties who r going to therapy in pf!! and even tho i think i made it kinda obvious, i wanna see y’all guess whomst is whom!!! also this is considerably lower quality than i intended KSJ but we will get back to our regularly scheduled (read: better) writing tomorrow KEJEK anyways fat thanks to my wife ghostie (who i cant tag rip) for helping me out!!! don’t forget to feed me!!! <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

2K notes · View notes

gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part One)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, possible character death, a little bit of fluff but it’s like angsty fluff

Word count: 1,837

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Next | Second Chance Masterlist

a/n: things in bold are in english. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY!!!! hi i know everyone has been awaiting this series from tftp in particular. and while i wish i could say im updating this regularly,,,,,i cannot. there’s no definite update schedule, im just doing it when i can. i wanted to wait until i had all the parts written but im impatient. but i hope you’ll enjoy this series even with the slow updates, and i hope it lives up to expectations 💜

“Where’re we going?” Joshua grumbled as he followed slightly behind Hansol and Kyung, the younger boy’s hand wrapped around hers.

Joshua was going with them to the doctor without actually knowing. Kyung knew better than to tell him before they left because she figured the grumpy werewolf would just tell her no, not really caring whether he was unable to heal or not -- even though that was very clearly a bad sign that he had overexerted himself.

Kyung thought maybe Joshua would be a little less...angry all the time once she got to know him, but Joshua was stubborn well before he’d even met her -- he was just bad at shoving his stubbornness and anger down.

“I promised I’d get my back fixed if Kyung decided to stay, and you said you’d go if I went, didn’t you?” Hansol reminded his brother with a smirk over his shoulder. “We’re gonna go see that doctor we were told about. What was her name again?”

“Minjee,” Kyung replied. “Not to sound rude but...Josh, why don’t you want to see a doctor?”

“I don’t really care if I can heal or not either way,” he replied flatly, “but I said I’d get help if Hansol did. So...here we are.”

“Here we are...” she repeated in a mumble.

Joshua simply followed the mated couple in silence as the alpha led them to Minjee’s, being the first to knock on the door. It was a girl -- as expected -- that opened the door, bowing politely to the group before smiling brightly at the darker skinned girl in front of them.

“Kyung!” she exclaimed as she gestured the three of them in. “I haven’t seen you in so long -- I suppose that’s a good thing, though. How’ve you been? Your pack hasn’t mentioned you.”

“I’m not actually in that pack anymore,” Kyung told her with a shrug, her ‘cool’ exterior coming back in the presence of an old friend. “I’m an alpha of my mate’s pack now.”

Minjee seemed impressed, eyebrows raising with a smile, “Wow, look at you. How’d the sudden change happen? Jiung must be proud.”

“He’s actually...passed away.”

The doctor’s face fell, placing a comforting hand on your upper arm, “I’m sorry for the loss of your brother.”

Kyung nodded, “I’ve been grieving, but it’s been easier with my mate. Minjee, this is Hansol, and his brother -- er, our brother, I guess -- Joshua.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hansol said as he nodded to her. “Our brother, Soonyoung came in before with a human girl to talk about fixing us -- I’ve got silver burned into my back, and Joshua’s the healer that can’t heal anymore.”

“Ah, yes, the healer!” Minjee’s eyes lit up as she nodded excitedly. She looked to Joshua now. “Your power still hasn’t come back?”

“No,” he replied. “I thought just resting would help but...nothing.”

“I see,” she hummed, eyeing him over before looking back at Kyung like she was their mother that took them to the doctor’s office. “I’ll do a quick look over and then see what I can do. It’s almost time for me to close up, and I have to go out of town for a few days. I won’t be able to do anything until about a week from now, but they’ll be fine until then if they’ve been fine this long.”

“That’s okay,” Hansol shrugged as Joshua replied, “No worries.”

“Alright,” Minjee breathed with a warm smile, grabbing some gloves from nearby, “then let’s get started and see what’s going on.”

Even though you were never careful, you wanted to blame this on shitty luck. You were too carefree and excitable, so you ran and ran and didn’t see the trap. So with you trapped under a net with little prickles that you were sure were laced with wolfsbane from how fucking awful you felt -- that was an understatement -- all you could do was wait for hunters to come find you before death took you itself. Honestly, you hoped the latter would come first.

You faintly heard footsteps coming toward you as your vision went out of focus, your eyelids becoming too heavy to keep up. You sensed a presence beside you, the body crouching down to get a better look at you.

“What do we have here?” a female-sounding voice asked, but it sounded far away and muffled to you. “Is this another werewolf?”

“I can’t tell,” another female voice replied in a sigh. “Sura, do you have any ideas?”

“Doesn’t smell like werewolf to me,” a male voice said. “It definitely is some kind of were-creature, though. This thing wreaks of wolfsbane and it’s clearly affecting her. I’d say...coyote, maybe?”

One of the women sucked in a breath between their teeth before saying, “Prajya, help me get this net off of her -- it’ll be heavy but I’m afraid to let Sura touch it.”

Slowly, you felt the weight of the net being lifted off of you. You could also feel every little barb stuck in you being pulled out, and you whimpered softly from the stinging pain that covered your body.

“Minjee, will she make it?” the second girl asked as you were lifted into warm arms.

“No,” the male replied, “probably not.”

“The house isn’t far from here,” the first girl insisted. “We just have to hurry.”

But you were out cold before they even took the first step.

Josh and Hansol weren’t really sure why so many people wanted to go with them into town that night for them to finally get fixed. Suvi was understandable since she just enjoyed going into town, and Soomin made sense since she was basically their resident know-it-all when it came to werewolves. However, Wonwoo wanting to tag along was weird because Wonwoo didn’t like leaving the house, much less going into town. They figured maybe it was because he wanted to make sure Soomin would be alright, but she was already going to be with two werewolves and a girl who had gone into town plenty of times. She was in good hands, but whatever made Wonwoo happy.

“Are you nervous?” Suvi wondered, looking up between Hansol and Joshua as she walked.

“I don’t know how they’re going to fix my back, so that’s a little concerning,” Hansol decided, “but I’m more excited.”

Joshua just shrugged, “Eh, not really.”

“Try not to be so excited, huh,” Wonwoo commented.

Joshua did like his power. He liked that he was able to help people with it. However, it didn’t benefit him -- as in, it didn’t make his own personal healing any better than anybody else’s in the pack -- and it wouldn’t be needed if his pack wasn’t so stupid and got themselves hurt. It wasn’t fun like Seokmin’s or Chan’s or Kyung’s, and it wasn’t interesting like Jihoon’s or Soonyoung’s or Hansol’s or Minghao’s. It was boring -- kind of like Wonwoo’s or Seungcheol’s.

Suvi was the first up to the door, knocking before she took a step back to wait. The door was answered by Minjee -- as always -- who greeted them with an almost pained smile.

“Hello,” she greeted them. “Before you come in, I’d like to apologize. My partners and I have just gotten home, and one of our patients... Well, she won’t make it.”

Now that she’d mentioned it, the wolves could just barely hear the faint, slowing heartbeat from inside the house. But they could also smell that it wasn’t the typical werewolf. It was something they’d never smelled before, but it still wasn’t completely human.

Joshua also picked up on a scent that was very familiar but also so very different from anything he’d smelled before.

“We’re just trying to ease her pain until she passes,” Minjee continued, letting the small group into the house. She turned to look at somebody else who was helping with the aforementioned girl. “Sura, could you put a curtain up around her? Prajya, I’ll need you to help me with--”

Minjee stopped when she noticed Joshua stop in the doorway, his body going rigid. His golden eyes were spotting red and locked on you, hands balled into fists.

You were dying; his mate was dying. Again.

“Josh...?” Wonwoo spoke up, placing a hand on the older boy’s shoulder.

Joshua’s thoughts and opinions on re-imprinting were out the window when it registered that the girl quickly losing her life was his mate. The only thing he could focus on was you and saving you -- but he only knew one way how.

“She’s not dying,” he stated, walking straight through the small crowd and over to you where your pulse was just a moment away from completely dying out.

“What?” Minjee asked, watching him as he approached you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes.

“I’m not going to let her die,” he said louder, letting his hands hover above your body.

Joshua was too focused on trying to somehow get his powers to come back to him that he wasn’t paying any attention to Hansol and Wonwoo’s conversation over their surprise of their brother imprinting for a second time. Truthfully, nobody thought anybody would come after Lilly since Josh was so against it. But then again, imprinting wasn’t something any werewolf could control.

Joshua mumbled to himself as he tried to will his power back. He was concentrating so hard but nothing was happening. No faint glow from his palms, no color coming back to your face, and your heartbeat was still rapidly decreasing by the second. It wouldn’t be long until it was gone all together, and then there would be nothing he could do.

“C’mon...c’mon...” he grumbled, closing his eyes as his eyebrows creased together in concentration.

“Your powers won’t suddenly work,” Minjee spoke up, watching from where she stood by his pack, wanting to give the werewolf space -- especially since she was preparing for him to be grieving for the mate he’d lose before actually having her.

“They have to!” he snapped.

He refused to lose you. If he lost two mates -- even if he didn’t properly meet or know you -- he was sure he wouldn’t be able to take it.

With his last bit of energy he had in his body, his palms faintly glowed to life, spreading a tingling warmth across your body. His healing power was starting to cleanse the wolfsbane from your system, and your heartbeat was starting to become stronger and more stable. Hearing your heartbeat louder in his ears made Josh want to cry. But he didn’t have the energy for it.

As you let out a cough and a girl with brown skin rushed over to sit you up so you could empty your system, Joshua collapsed onto the floor, knowing you were alive and would hopefully stay alive. He put his everything into saving you, and he didn’t know if that would kill him, but he knew it was worth it.

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years

Text

Happy Little Accidents

Part Two: Hope

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,317

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??

Request: Yes

Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.

A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.

On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.

But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.

However.

You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.

So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.

And there was so much work that had to be done.

Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.

It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.

Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.

You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.

The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.

Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.

You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.

"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.

"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.

You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."

"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.

"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.

"It look's decorated to me?"

"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."

"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."

"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."

"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.

"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.

"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"

"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."

It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.

Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.

There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.

However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.

You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.

So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.

But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.

Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.

There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.

On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.

It was so fucking hard.

Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.

But still, the process continued.

"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.

"Oh, we know."

"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.

"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."

Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."

"Well, goodbye then."

You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.

"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.

You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.

"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."

That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.

***

Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.

If you thought you were bad.

Natasha was far worse.

She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.

You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.

And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.

No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.

It all seemed so foreign now.

Like a past life.

'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.

A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.

Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.

"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.

Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."

"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."

Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.

"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."

Then they walked away.

With you calling after them.

"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"

Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.

"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.

"Hey. How have you two been?"

"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.

"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"

"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."

The care worker laughed at that.

"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."

Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.

And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.

You adored your little family.

You just wished you could have them all home.

'One day', you thought, 'one day'.

Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Just like the last time.

And the time before that.

And the one before that.

It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.

Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.

"I know, my little love, I know-"

"Mommy!" Hope cried.

"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Mommy!"

"I know."

Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.

"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."

"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."

"But it almost seems endless, Nat."

"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

***

She was right.

Of course, she was right.

She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.

But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.

Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.

Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.

You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.

She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.

"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.

"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."

"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."

You gave an overdramatic gasp.

"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.

"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."

"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.

She was already taking after you.

Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.

She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.

It had been a long time since then.

And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.

***

Permanent Tag List:

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list:

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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peggyrose19 · 3 years

Text

Amber and Green

I have another fic for youuuuuuu. It’s St. Tweedle this time cause I missed them. Here’s Saint realizing Luke has green in one eye. AO3 link here if you’d prefer.

characters belong to @lumosinlove

@im-oknutzy-trash @wonder-womans-ex i’m just tagging you two in all st. tweedle fics now just so you know

Saint spent far too long staring at Luke.

He knew the line of his jaw and the scar on his cheek, knew the curve of his neck and shoulder, the strong panes of his chest and back. He knew what it felt like to be held by those arms, to be kissed by those lips. He thought he knew every part of Luke. But maybe he didn’t know everything.

Luke was studying. Or at least, that’s what he’d said. Watching him, lying in bed with a book in his hand, it seemed to Saint he was reading rather than studying. But he wasn’t looking at Saint, and so Saint didn’t really care what he was doing.

Saint loved watching Luke. Tracing those familiar lines, tracking the expressions that flitted across his face. Not that he’d ever admit this to anyone, of course. He had a reputation to uphold.

That day, lying beside Luke, his gaze fell upon Luke’s eyes, eyelashes touching his cheeks each time he blinked. Purple bruised his under-eyes, turning his amber eyes a dark brown. He wasn’t sleeping enough, Saint thought, fighting the urge to reach out and touch. Instead, he watched him blink, watched his eyes flit across the pages.

He saw something then that made him pause. He’d always thought Luke’s eyes were amber, deep like honey. They drew him in until he couldn’t get out, until he was stuck and he didn’t even care. But it was then he realized his left eye wasn’t totally brown.

“Wait. Your eye is green.”

Luke frowned, but didn’t look up. “Yes?”

“Has it always been like that?”

“Since I was born. Just happens to some people apparently.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I mean most people don’t.”

“Oh.”

Luke looked up then, frowning. “How did you notice?”

Saint just shrugged. He didn’t want Luke knowing just how much time he spent watching him.

“Were you watching me, just now?” Luke asked.

Saint scowled. “No.”

“Yes you were.” A smirk played at his lips and Saint wanted to smack him. With his mouth.

He fought the urge.

“Are you pouting?” Luke asked incredulously.

“I don’t pout,” Saint scoffed, ignoring the fact that he had, in fact, been pouting.

“You are.”

Luke looked far too delighted. Saint intended to change that. With a smirk, he tackled Luke to the bed, jabbing him in the sides. Luke shrieked uncharacteristically and Saint just laughed. He’d never seen Luke like this.

“Stop stop stop,” Luke gasped, and Saint paused. But he didn’t move from where he was, sat firmly on Luke’s hips holding him down. Their faces were inches apart.

“Still think I’m pouting?”

“No, God. You’re so immature sometimes, you know that?” Luke shook his head with a smile.

“Am I now.”

Luke glared playfully. “Would you get off me?”

“Hmm I’m quite comfortable here, actually.” Saint smirked, settling more comfortably on top of Luke, folding his hands over Luke’s chest and resting his chin on top. “So. How’s the homework going?”

Luke seemed to resign himself to his position. “You bastard.”

“Yes, we’ve already determined I’m a bastard,” Saint replied conversationally, tilting his head. Luke just sighed.

“Will you get off so I can get back to my studying.”

“See, it seems to me,” Saint continued as if Luke hadn’t spoken, “that if I had two different colored eyes, more people would know about it.”

“Yeah, cause you can’t keep your mouth shut,” Luke muttered. Saint jabbed him again.

“So that leaves me wondering how, exactly, you’ve managed to keep this under wraps so well.”

“I mean, most people don’t notice eye color.”

Saint paused. “Wait, really?”

“What color eyes does James have?”

“Um.”

“Exactly. Which brings me back to, how did you notice my eye?”

Saint sighed. Luke wouldn’t ever let him down for this, but he also would never let it go. “I may have been watching you,” he muttered.

Luke looked smug. “Uh huh. And just how often do you watch me?”

“Never, shut up.”

“See, I don’t believe you,” Luke practically crowed.

“Oh, hush you.”

At that, Luke cackled loudly. Saint grumbled under his breath, but he wasn’t truly upset. He liked hearing Luke laugh, liked when he lowered his guard like this. With a sigh, Saint leaned up and captured Luke’s lips in a kiss.

Luke softened into it, the tension leaving his body entirely. Saint kissed him again, reveling in the quiet gasp it pulled from Luke, the tremor that shook his body. He liked having Luke this way too, soft and pliable. Content. He liked seeing him happy.

“You should sleep more,” Saint mumbled. He pulled back and swiped a thumb under Luke’s eye, over the shadow he’d noticed earlier.

“You do like looking at me.”

“Possibly. But my point remains.”

Luke let his head flop back onto the pillow, looking up at Saint softly.

“You watch me enough to know when I need to sleep?” he asked.

“I know everything about you,” Saint murmured, kissing him again. “I know how you look when you’re tired, or when you’ve had too much coffee.” Another kiss. “When you want me but won’t ask. When you’ve had enough of everyone around you.” And another. “I know everything.”

Luke just hummed. Saint continued softly, “I know that last night you were up late studying, because you think if you get good grades then maybe your mom will finally notice you. And you woke up early to run, because you do it every morning. I know that right now you’re struggling to stay awake, even with the absurd amount of coffee in your body. I think you should take a nap.”

Finally, Luke huffed a surprised laugh. “You always manage to surprise me.”

“I try.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I told you, I watch you. I’m very observant, Tweedle.”

“You wanna know what I think?” Luke’s voice was soft, and he twirled a strand of Saint’s hair around his finger. “You watch because you’re afraid.”

“And what am I afraid of?” Saint whispered back.

“You’re afraid people will leave you like your mom. So you watch for the signs, because that way you can leave first and maybe it’ll hurt less. But I’ll let you in on a little secret; it won’t hurt any less. Because at the end of the day, they’re still gone.”

For possibly the first time ever, Saint was stunned into silence.

“Wow,” he said finally.

Luke smiled a little. “Finally shut you up, huh?”

Despite himself, Saint huffed a laugh. “I guess so.”

“Sorry if I hit a nerve.”

Saint was already shaking his head, “It’s okay.”

Luke didn’t reply, but he kept his hands tangled in Saint’s hair, seemingly searching his face.

“You watching me now?” Saint asked.

“Maybe.” His voice dragged, and Saint could hear the exhaustion in it, more pronounced than before. He hated it.

“Go to sleep,” Saint whispered.

“You gonna get off me?”

“Fine.”

Saint shifted so he lay beside Luke instead, nestling into his side, tucking his face into the place where his shoulder and neck meet. It felt safe.

“That better?” he asked, and Luke nodded. “Sleep, Tweedle. I’ll be right here.”

Luke’s eyes shut, and he held Saint close, their hands tangled together. He was warm and comforting, and Saint watched his chest rise and fall evenly. He could tell the moment he drifted off, breathing deepening and any remaining tension seeping from his body.

It was only because Luke was fast asleep that he leaned up and pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered three dangerous, little words.

“I love you.”

#st. tweedle #luke x saint #they're being sappy #and childish #heterchromia #luke has one green eye #and saint looks at him too often #lumosinlove #relic keel

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inactiveanimeblog · 3 years

Text

shikamaru x reader fic change chapter two

tw : drinking, smoking, shikamarus a little meanie

link to chapter one here

you sat down and poured yourself a shot of lemon bacardi. it was 22:43, outside was dark but the summer air was humid. you were already a little tipsy, waiting for shikamaru and his friends to arrive to the party. butterfly effect by travis scott was playing in the background, and the led lights changed colors around the room. your friends talked amongst you while you started to roll up a blunt. already tons of people had shown up to the party, a lot of faces you recognized in high school.

“so, shikamaru said he’s coming by with some of his friends and i want you guys to meet him. i bet his friends are gonna be cute cause his roommate was.” you giggled as you started to pack the blunt, being careful not to drop any of the weed.

“some eye candy huh?” ino asked already extremely plastered. ino was hilarious when she was drunk, not caring what comes out of her mouth, usually stating her mind. you already knew she was gonna be flirting with the guys when they got here.

“yeah we can only hope. most guys here are frat boys, i’m sick of looking at them.” mikasa laughed out, bringing her red solo cup up to her lips. mikasa was also clearly drunk. “oh by the way y/n how’d that go earlier?”

“it went good, he really noticed that i changed and i’m surprised he wanted to come to this party tonight when i invited him. he used to not even wanna be seen in public with me.” you rolled your eyes thinking about how much of an outcast he used to make you feel.

not too long after, shikamaru walked in with his group of friends to the led lights still flashing slowly, orange soda by baby keem now playing. he immediately looked around the house for you.

he already caught most girls attention in the room, no girl trying to hide their obvious stares, which he ignored. he found you after a few minutes of walking by drunk and dancing people. you were already intoxicated, blunt in hand about to be lit up.

“yo y/n !” shikamaru called out, walking up to you and your friends.

“oh, hey shikamaru. you made it and you brought your friends.” you commented, grinning at them.

“yeah, this is kiba which you already met earlier, naruto, deidara, sai, and sasuke.”

“nice to meet you guys i’m y/n and this is mikasa, ino, hinata, and sasha.” you pointed to each one of your friends while you called out their name. “now that we all met each other let’s take some shots, yeah?” you said already pouring up the bacardi in some little plastic shot glasses.

“bacardi hm? you be drinking rum like that?” deidara asked taking the shot you handed to him.

“i don’t usually go for bacardi, my preference is dark liquor. i like henny.” you answered truthfully, downing your shot with a sour look on your face and grabbing a lighter from your pocket to spark up the blunt.

“hennessy? wow i like you already. so you’re from around here? shikamaru never mentioned you guys were friends.” he asked. shikamaru stayed silent as he took the shot, eyeing you down as you already looked like you were about to black out.

“yeah i am actually. i’ve been gone for a few months but i just got back recently. also not surprised. he switched up on me in high school.” you teased looking over at shikamaru, and taking a hit of the blunt.

shikamaru gave you a pointed look and sat the shot down on a nearby table. “not true, i never switched up on you. but i could say the same for you. you deny you’re different but you clearly are.”

“yeah right shika, just cause i look a little different doesn’t mean i switched up on you.” you answered back, noticing the tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“anyways, i’m glad you guys came let’s finish this blunt and go play some beer pong, yeah?”

“sounds good.”

“i’m down.”

“y/n, be my partner?” deidara asked.

“sure, as long as you don’t make us look bad.” you giggled, pausing the blunt over to him.

“yeah right, if anything i’m gonna be the one hitting all the cups .” he said taking the blunt from your fingers.

“mm yeah we’ll see.”

you guys played pong for a while, you and deidara actually did a decent job, surprisingly winning most of the games. it was fun, and you noticed how competitive shikamaru and his friends were.

ino suggested you guys sit in a room and play a game of truth or dare which everyone agreed on. the game was pretty intense, involving ino and sai making out, which even after the dare was over they didn’t bother to stop, naruto doing body shots off hinata, and now it was your turn to pick truth or dare.

“y/n truth or dare?” hinata asked.

“i’ll take a risk and choose dare.” you smirked.

“okay, umm i dare you to kiss deidara.”

everyone in the room looked around at each other while you sat there and blushed. shikamaru was looking at both you and deidara, hiding the fact that he was annoyed from the dare. his face was blank but on the inside he was boiling.

“okay.. say less.” you responded crawling over to where deidara was sitting. you closed your eyes and licked your bottom lip before pecking him lightly, then steadily sneaking your tongue in his mouth.

the kids turned into a quick make out session, slow passionate kissing, with some touching. his hands traveled down your body, and grabbed your ass. everyone in the room watched and whistled at you guys.

shikamaru sat quietly, his body feeling like it was burning up while he watched intently. it took everything out of him not to get upset, but he couldn’t help himself. not when deidara out of all people had his tongue down your throat.

a couple of games later it was now shikamaru’s turn to ask someone truth or dare, he was still annoyed over the fact that you and deidara were all over each other, maybe even jealous, so him being an asshole decided to pick you once again,

“y/n, truth or dare?” he asked, a fake smile appearing on his lips.

“i’ll pick truth this time.”

“okay.. is it true that you used to be a loser for a majority of your life?” the room fell silent, the smile still on shikamaru’s face. your friends had their mouths opened trying to chime in and say something to defend you, wondering why he would ask such a rude truth. a few of shikamaru’s friends were geeking silently, trying to hold in their laughs.

you scowled your brows and stared at him in disbelief. you thought maybe since you looked and acted different that shikamaru would pay attention to you, in a positive way. you thought wrong. he was still an ass.

“yeah it’s true.” you spat out. “this games dumb i’m gonna go get some jungle juice.”

getting up from your spot and walking out of the room your friends got up and trailed behind you, a disappointed look in their faces as they followed you out.

“come on man? why would you do that? i was about to score with her!” deidara called out at him.

“my fault bro, there’s plenty of other badder girls here. she was starting to annoy me.” shikamaru shrugged getting up to explore the rest of the party, while his friends got up and did the same.

you left the party that night hurt and confused. one point you were having fun and all of a sudden shikamaru was acting out of character. you got that he was an asshole now, but never did he embarrass you like that in front of others. if this was how shikamaru was gonna be then you decided you would be fine without him.

it’s been a few days since the party. you were sulking in bed, watching anime. it sucked that you had to leave shikamaru behind. you wanted him to see you as more than just a loser. it felt like everything you did to change yourself was for no reason and you—

*buzz*

your thoughts were interrupted by a vibrate of your phone. you groaned as you sat up to reach for it. to your surprise it was a text from shikamaru.

tag : @tojisbbyg

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru imagine

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Note

I hope you feel better soon! When you're feeling better would you be able to write something about jealous Strife? That ask made me curious

“Do you really have to go?”

From your seat at the vanity, you heave an exasperated sigh and set down your lipstick, swivelling around in the chair to face the Horseman who stands sulking at your bedroom door.

“Strife,” you begin patiently, “I'm afraid my answer still hasn't changed since you asked me ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I know. It's just -” Averting his gaze, he crosses his arms and grumbles, “I thought we were gonna hang out tonight.”

“And I told you two weeks ago that I wouldn't be around tonight.”

You can't see his expression, hidden as it is behind the silver helm he wears, but you're fairly confident in guessing that there's a pout on his lips.

“And besides,” you add, “We hang out all the time. You practically live here. Hell, you've already turned my spare bedroom into your own personal den.”

'Den' is an understatement. Your spare room is now less of a bedroom more of an Earth museum, filled from floor to ceiling with all of the things that Strife has picked up simply because they took his fancy. For the most part, it's all junk. There's an obsolete gaming console that no longer works, a skateboard, a horse figurine made of glass, no less than three Nerf guns and not a foam dart between them...

Honestly, you're loathe to tell him to get rid of any of it, though you fear you might have to soon if you don't want the mess spilling out into the rest of your house.

Giving your head an exasperated shake, you check the time on your phone and stand up, throwing your bag over a shoulder. “Listen, it's just one evening with an old friend who I haven't seen since before the apocalypse. We can hang out tomorrow, I promise. But now, I really need to dash, he'll be here to pick me up any minute.”

Pausing to stuff your phone into the pocket of your trousers, you head towards the door, hardly noticing that the Horseman is still standing in front of it with his arms folded neatly across a broad, armoured chest. It's only because you glance up right at the last second that you manage to avoid a painful collision. “Um...Strife?” you ask, halting in your tracks, “... Move?”

In response, he simply leans back against your door and begins to inspect the claws on one of his gauntlets. “Nah... I'd rather hear about this friend of yours. You've never mentioned him.” Pausing, he shoots you a sly smirk that you can sense more than see, his golden eyes flashing, “You guys close?”

With a roll of your eyes, you mimic his posture, crossing your arms and giving him a glare that would make Death proud. “Strife, what's gotten into you? I just said I'm going to be late for my friend.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he returns coolly, “Just wanna know that my friend isn't walking into a trap.”

“Oh wow – a trap? Really? Of all the-” You cut yourself off and raise a hand, massaging at your temple. “Okay. Now you're just being ridiculous. It's not a trap.”

“Why don't you let me come with you, just in case?”

“Because!” you cry, throwing your arms up, “It'll be awkward! You remember what I taught you about third-wheeling?”

He remembers it well, in fact. Just like he remembers everything you teach him, committing the moments to memories that he'll carry with him until the day he snuffs it. He only has you for less than a hundred years, after all, and he's determined to remember every last bit of it. The Universe must have thought itself pretty hilarious when it placed you in his life. Of all the creatures in all the realms, the one he ends up caring about most just so happens to be the one with the shortest lifespan. It makes him want to hunt down the Creator and shoot a hole where a heart might be.

Shoving down his contempt for the omnipotent bastard, Strife returns his attention to you and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't mind tagging along. You know, just in case I have to watch your back.”

Your response hits him harder than a crack from Fury's whip. “I don't need you to watch my back every second of every day! Stop being so paranoid.”

The Horseman is too proud and obstinate to ever let the stab of hurt show in his eyes, but he can't ignore its presence in his chest.

He is not being paranoid... He's being a good friend - watching your back, looking out for you, all the things a friend is supposed to do. Not that he's had much experience being friends with a human. Or anyone, for that matter, who isn't a horse or his siblings. It's been a learning curve for both of you, though more-so for him, and so far, the most prominent challenge he's faced is balancing the line between being a friend and being an overprotective nuisance.

It perhaps hasn't helped that, ever since humanity was resurrected, the pair of you have been nigh inseparable. He's grown used to your presence – is dependant upon in, according to Death; a fact that Strife had vehemently tried to deny, at least until he learned that you'd made plans. Plans with someone else. Plans that didn't involve him.

It was only once he'd taken some time to reflect and found that he had indeed been glued to your side for months, that he realised the awful truth.

His older brother was right, after all. The smug ass.

A shudder rolls over the Horseman's body and he blinks, realising that in the few seconds he's been lost in thought, you've managed to reach around him to push open your bedroom door.

“Hey!” he complains as you all but shove past, and he – being the soft-touch that he is – simply allows himself to be moved aside. Grumbling, he follows you across the landing and down your sweeping staircase until you reach the front door and stop beside it.

From outside, the thunderous roar of an approaching, automobile's engine thrums in his ears.

“That's him!” you chirp, and Strife hates the way your face lights up at the mention of whoever 'he' is.

Throwing open your door, you head outside and try to pull it shut behind you, yet find your efforts abruptly halted by the Horseman sticking close to your heels. He ducks through the low doorframe and moves to stand beside you, his viciously keen gaze raking over the vehicle that idles at the end of your driveway.

By his own admission, Strife has always had a weakness for those 'motor bikes' the humans like to ride, with their shiny gaskets and noisy engines. But this one – the one upon whom sits a tall, lanky human – Strife does not care for.

“Anton!” you call out, flying down the driveway, splaying your arms out wide in anticipation of a hug.

'Anton' laughs brightly and kicks down the bike's stand as he leaps from the seat, his own arms only just opening in time to receive you when you crash into him with a whoop of delight.

As soon as those long, stringy arms wrap around your shoulders, the Horseman's hackles raise like a feral beast's and the sudden presence of Anarchy begins to claw at the confines of his ribcage. For a few moments, he wrestles with himself, weighing the pros and cons of letting his most primal form take over for a while, but after envisioning the disapproving frown that's sure to adorn your face should he pull such a stunt, he bitterly shoves a reluctant Anarchy back down and settles upon prowling down the gravel drive after you, glaring hard at the stranger the entire way. Admittedly, he is a little surprised at himself for the animosity. On the whole, he's always maintained a good rapport with other humans. He likes the species, a lot. So to suddenly be filled with such a strong disliking for this particular human strikes him as odd and out of character.

Then, Anton's hands slide down to your lower back and another bout of indignant fury flares up in the Horseman's belly. After what he thinks is, quite frankly, an obscene amount of time, the stranger releases you, holding onto your shoulders and leaning back to get a better look at your face.

“God, it's good to see you, Y/n,” he drawls, eyeing you from head to toe in a way that makes the Horseman's skin crawl, “I can't believe it! You've changed so much!”

Grinning shyly up at him, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and reply, “Hopefully for the better?”

His own smile widens. “You were always at your best, even before the apocalypse. Still, being Humanity's Hero seems to be really suiting you, huh?”

At once, your expression falls and you pull a face, extracting yourself from his grasp. “Oh god, don't call me that. I've told the media till I'm blue in the face - the Horsemen are the ones who deserve to be called heroes. Oh, speaking of whom...” You turn to face the looming presence at your side and gesture up to Strife. “I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

Anton's gaze leaves you long enough to flick over towards the Horseman and you watch as he does a very comical double-take, his eyes bulging for a moment before he manages to compose himself again and lifts his hand in greeting. “Hey! You must be one of those Horseman guys. Death, right?”

Noticing that the Nephilim's hands curl suddenly into tight fists, you interject, “Uh, actually, this is Strife, Tones.”

“Tones?” He really does try to keep the disdain from his voice when he switches his burning, golden glare between you and the other human. “I thought you said his name was Anton?”

How many other friends do you have?

“It's a nickname, Strife,” you reassure him quickly, “This is Anton.”

A nickname... Of course. The Horseman's stomach twists itself into a knot and he can't stop himself from blurting out, “How come you've never given me a nickname?”

The human concept surrounding abbreviated names was a fairly easy one for him to grasp when he first learned of them. They're terms of endearment, meant to signify familiarity and friendship.

He's your friend. He's familiar. Why doesn't he have a nickname too?

"Ugh, I'm sorry. We'll brainstorm nicknames when I get back," you huff, "But the restaurant will give our table away if we don't hurry. So -"

Turning to usher Anton onto the bike, you hardly manage to take one step before a large, metal hand is sliding around your forearm and tugging you gently to a halt. Biting back a groan, you glance over your shoulder, ready to scold him, but one look at his slouched stance and averted gaze stops you in your tracks.

"Uh. Hey, Tones?" you call, never taking your eyes off the Horseman's mask, "Can you give us a sec?"

The human behind you is careful to check that Strife isn't looking when he rolls his eyes and grunts in acknowledgement before he turns and saunters over to his bike, leaning up against it and pulling out his phone.

Once Anton has turned his attention elsewhere, you raise a brow at the Horseman and wait, patient, expectant. After working his jaw for a moment or two, he finally looks at you properly and tightens his grip on your arm, not until it's painful, but enough that you understand what he's trying to convey in the gesture.

He really doesn't want you to go.

"Strife?" you prod.

Reluctantly, he lets out a rough exhale.

Although he's far better at it than his siblings, watching Strife try to openly express emotion isn't unlike watching someone pull their own teeth out with a pair of pliers. The process is slow, and it's best to sit back and listen to him rather than try to encourage him to speak. So, that's what you do, and eventually, your patience is rewarded when after another few seconds of silence, he offers a strained chuckle and says, "This guy isn't my replacement, is he? I know the bike is cool, and all, but..."

"Your replacement?" you laugh, incredulous, "Strife. I don't know how it worked with Nephilim, but for humans, having another friend doesn't cancel out any existing ones."

He knows that. He's not some whelp who never learned how to share. Frustrated with himself, the Horseman huffs and turns his head to the side, glaring hard at nothing in particular.

"Hey..." An old habit kicks in, and before you can stop yourself, you reach up to trace your fingertips along the underside of Strife's helm, tipping it back towards you and smiling at the bewildered look in his yellow eyes. Confident that he's paying proper attention, you pull your hand away again and state, "I could search the whole universe from top to bottom for the next hundred, thousand years, and I'd never find a friend who could replace you, okay? So stop worrying. Your ranking as 'my best friend' is not under threat."

"M'not worrying," he grumbles, but inside, his heart is aglow with the warmth of your words. At the back of his mind, Anarchy rumbles happily. You said best!... He's your best friend? He tries to recall you ever calling him that before. Then he realises that, no, you can't have done. He wouldn't forget a moment like that. Not in a million years. Just like he won't forget how he feels right now after hearing those two words.

Oblivious to the fate you've just sealed for yourself, you clap your hands together, bringing the conversation to what you hope is an easy conclusion. "Good. In that case, will you please let me go with Anton now?"

The Horseman's mood sours almost immediately, but at least he peels his fingers off your arm.

"Hey, kid?" he address Anton, packing his voice with all the menace and threat that he can muster, "If I find out she gets hurt on your watch, I'll introduce you to a couple'a friends of mine..." His hands fall less-than subtly to his holsters, where the silver handles of Mercy and Redemption glint in the sunlight.

Anton's face pales upon seeing the Horseman's legendary pistols.

"Stop that," you scold him, smacking the back of your hand against the armoured chest plate before turning to your other friend and calling, "Come on, Tones, let's go."

Anton all but throws himself onto his bike, kicking the stand back and jamming his keys into the ignition whilst you climb on behind him, albeit far more gracefully. The man tosses you a helmet and you shove it onto your head.

Strife's eyes remain settled upon your hands that wrap snugly around Anton's waist and it takes everything in him not to grab you, haul you off the bike, drag you back to your home and lock you inside.

“I'll be back late tonight,” you call over the roar of the engine as you begin to pull away, “There's food in the fridge if you want to eat! And my Netflix is still logged in! I'll see you later, okay!?”

Strife doesn't respond, not because he can't think of what to say, but because there would be no point. Anton has already peeled away and pushed the bike to a reckless speed. All the Horseman can do is stand there at the end of your driveway, his shoulders drooping dejectedly.

After you're nothing more than a dot on the far horizon, he tears his eyes off you and lets them fall to the tarmac near his boots.

He never notices you looking back.

#darksiders #darksiders genesis #Strife #reader #jealousy

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oppabimbab · 4 years

Text

are you mine? | jeon jungkook

genre: smut, fluff

starring: jungkook x reader

synopsis: jungkook knows how to shut you up and make you scream nothing but his name

words: 3648 words

tags: jealousy, daddy !kinks, handjob, riding! humping! car!fuck, slight dom jungkook, clit tease, unprotected s*x

side notes: this is originally from jinyoung’s fic but i changed the character to jungkook to fit the bts version. ignore this im bored.

You sip the remaining champagne inside the tall glass that you have been swirling for god-knows-how-long. Just as much as you love that alcohol, today it tastes like a motherfucking poison in your throat. It’s burning your tongue every time you swallow a drop—like a fire. Just like your heart.

From afar, You look at your boyfriend, Jungkook ,who is talking casually to bunch of his friends that he bumps to at the bar counter, not too far from your seats.

He looks as majestic as he always does—broad shoulder, long and toned legs, long and wavy hair, muscular arms and delicious torso.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with how your boyfriend behaves with his friends but what bothers you the most is that one bitch, who is always clinging to him from the first minute you come here to the party. And you had no idea why would you witness that in the first place.

Rose. That beautiful bitch. She always stands there beside him, chuckling at every words that come out from his mouth like he is some kind of comedian—moving her ass and exposing her boobs just to brush them against him while she gives the endless refilled wine to him. Let alone, staring at him while he smiles and laughing, like you don’t exist here. Fucking annoying.

Damn, is that a friend should do? You know for the fact that she is one of Jungkook’s acquaintances. He has been chanting that to you and you’re convinced enough but you can’t remember that, a friend should grind her body to her colleague like she wants to fuck him—that much. You’re positive until today when you clearly can’t hold the anger anymore.

When the last drop of the champagne touch your throat, you met her eyes. Her bitchy eyes along with the foxy smile, plastering all over her face before she scoots closer to Jungkook and on purpose, she ‘accidently’ makes herself fall on him—making her exposed boobs slightly brush on his arms.

Just how gentleman your boyfriend is, he looks shock and immediately helps her to get on her feet. Making her smile becomes wider, at you.

Seeing that, you can’t help but feel extremely intimidated and pissed. Not sure if it’s solely on that bitch Rose or your boyfriend. You inhale some air to calm yourself from the sight. You try to look unbothered by not giving any piece of damn at her, who is having fun drooling at your man.

For a matter of fact, Rose is extremely gorgeous. You can’t deny. She is a famous model that have her face plasters everywhere across the country. You know people swoon over her because of her beauty and sexiness every time she passes by, doing the bare minimum—or to simply said, she is the main star of this party. Everyone loves her. Everyone worships her. She is the definition of perfections. Just like him.

Now, that thought bothers you the most.

The ride is filled with silences from both of you and him as he drives back to the apartment that you have been sharing with him for the past 9 months. You’re not very keen to know whether he notices the changes in your behaviour ever since 30 minutes ago.

Well, You don’t feel like talking to him. At all. He asked you to come along to this party but why the fuck did he make you feel less—like you don’t belong there, as his girl. You’re not sure what he did wrong but when you saw him walking back to you at the table after almost touching other girl’s boobs, you immediately feel upset. Extremely upset. You’re pissed, annoyed, jealous and angry. You can’t bring yourself to talk to him at this moment.

And he seems like he doesn’t care about that. Good thing because all you want to do is to go back to sleep with this anger. You stare out of the window, completely silent.

“You’re giving an attitude,” he breaks the silence between you and him as the silence happens way too long. You cock your eyebrow and glance at him slightly before looking back out of the window.

“Excuse me?” you reply—trying not to sound annoyed or pissed even honestly, you want to scream at him.

He exhales some air before tilting his head at you, looking at your obvious frustrated face. You can feel his big hand snake on your exposed thigh, giving it a slow rub while the other hand is on the steering wheel.

“Mind to explain why you’re acting like this?” he sounds calm and serene—unlike you. You push his hand away from your skin without looking at him.

“Focus. I’m not in the mood, Jungkook,” you stop calling his pet names that he likes the most.

You see his face changes, from the corner of your eyes but you don’t care. The least thing he can do is stop being such an asshole at this moment. You don’t want to talk, not to him.

“Why are you always acting up without reason at times like this?” he says as he clenches his jaws. His voice sounds hardened and tense. You can’t believe he just said that.

“What? Me?”

“Yes, you,”

“Are you serious? I said i’m not in the mood. Just drive us home and leave me alone, Jungkook. You’re such an asshole,” you can’t help your anger anymore when he is pointing the arrow back at you. Sure, he said something harmless but at times like this, everything pisses you off. You’re fucking pissed when he stares back you like he did nothing.

“Wow, that’s rude,” he scoff.

“Whatever,” you did something he hates the most. Rolling your eyes.

Before he could say anything, he stops the car at the side of the road. Your eyebrow furrowed at his gesture as you look at him, confused and pissed. Jungkook looks back you, completely mad.

“Alright. Why don’t you tell this asshole, your problem? For fuck sake baby, I don’t know if you don’t tell me,” he runs his hands through the hair, sounded frustrated at your moody ass tonight.

You shrug.

“I don’t know. Ask Rose,” now, you know you sound like an immature bitch but you don’t care. He is being such an asshole.

“Rose?” he raises his eyebrow.

You don’t reply anything.

“What does Rose has to do with this topic?”

God, He is dumb.

“That’s fine, Jungkook. I want to go home. I’m tired. Let’s talk about this later,,” you heave a small sigh, rubbing your head as you ignore his question because you don’t feel like explaining shit like this. Or both of you will get into a serious fight. Both of you know how severe it can be once it happens. You just don’t want him around at this moment.

You look at him and his eyes changed. They are darkened and hooded—piercing in fire as he glares at you. They are the same eyes when he is mad and pissed.

“Fucking sit on me now,” he commands. Your jaw drops at him as he unbuckle the seat belt around his body. Which part of going home that he doesn’t understand?

“Jungkook! I don’t wan—“

“I said sit on me. Make me repeat and I’ll make you regret,” his eyes burn with fire, you can see the popping veins along his jaw and neck. He really needs to show his dominant side at times like this, huh? You’re not sure why and you shouldn’t feel this way but he looks fucking delicious when he is mad.

You heave a frustrated sigh as you unbuckle the seat belt before you climb all over him and sit on his lap—facing him with your back only few inches away from the steering wheel.

Both of you stare at each other before you look away from his eyes when you can’t content with the jealousy and anger in yourself every time you think of what happened earlier. It upsets you so much that you can feel your heart is aching.

“Now, tell me why you’re behaving like you miss my cock,” he utters the words as he brings both his hands on your hips—looking up to find your eyes. You hiss at his touch, making his eyebrow lifted.

“I’m so pissed,”

“You can’t be pissed in this dress. Definitely not in this dress that makes me want to fuck you hard,” his voice is so deep and low that it makes your heart races like crazy. Jungkook trails his eyes to your neck, your exposed chest and to your ass. You know he is good at dirty talk because you can feel butterflies all over your stomach.

You scoff at him.

“Sure but I think Rose wants you to fuck her harder than me. Sure, Jungkook,” you can’t look at him on the eyes as your heart hurts at the thought. You try to get off from his lap before you feel his grip tightened around your hips. His bites his lower lip.

“I see,” he nods.

“Baby, are you jealous?” he looks at you, hiding his beautiful smile behind his bitten lip.

“Yes. Very much,” you stare back at him—telling him how the pain and jealousy have made you like this. A whiny and jealous bitch.

His grins gets wider—showing off a small dimple under his cheeks. Probably satisfied enough that you finally admit something you’ve never done before.

The silence starts to build between you two before you speak up again.

“Everyone can see that she wants you. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that,” you roll your eyes, annoyance starts to build when you think of her. Jungkook chuckles.

“Do you believe that?” he asks and you had it enough. You squeal at him, to let you go back to your place and end this night but he wouldn’t budge as he grabs your hips tighter to keep you on his lap. He is so strong that you barely make any inches of move.

“How do I make you realise that I’m all yours?” he squeaks, rubbing your clothed ass along with your inner thigh, causing you to whimper softly.

“Fucking you here, in this car, hm?” he hums before he leans closer to your body and starts to trail sloppy kisses on the sweet spot while he chants the dirty words. You can’t help but squirm at his touch as you bring your hands to hold on to his shoulder.

“Jungkook, don’t,” you whimper at his touch even deep inside, you know you want this more than him. A mocking chuckle leaves his mouth, your words.

“I can feel your juices on my thigh, then you’re telling me no? Should we stop, kitten?” he bites the soft skin on the collarbone as he calls your favourite pet name. When you no longer can hold the sudden adrenaline in your body, you start to grind on his thick and muscular thigh, rubbing your pussy on nothing but his thick muscle.

Thanks to all the work out sessions and sports, they make this grinding feels like a heaven on earth.

It makes him groans in raspy tone while staring at your pussy. He grunts in frustration when the thin underwear covers your throbbing cunt.

“Jungkook....,” you moan his name and he hums at your calls while biting his lips—completely amazed at the throbbing clit under such thin clothe. He must be thanking God for letting you to wear such a short dress so it makes it’s easier for him to hover the pussy.

“Come here,” he grunts as he pulls your hips, to make the move becomes faster and wilder, eventually growing the huge bulge that is starting to touch your throbbing clit. You moan out loud at the touch, throwing your head to the back while keeping the same pace on his lap as he pulls your closer with his big tattooed hands.The feeling—oh so fucking good. The car is filled with hot breath from both of you as sweat starts to prick.

“Ah! Ah!” your breath hitched as you feel a familiar knot inside your pussy and lower abdomen—making you to look at him while moaning his name. He likes it when his name comes out from your mouth when he is abusing the pussy. He feels like a sexy dominant and he will make sure the scream gets louder when he finally pumps his cock inside you.

“How the hell I want to fuck her harder when I have this pussy, wet and juicy—just for me? Tell me how, baby,” he grunts through gritted teeth, rubbing his index finger on your clothed clitoris, circling and pinching it while looking at your moaning mess face, when you’re coming to the climax.

He hisses—completely mesmerised at your beautiful cunt.

“Ah! Daddy!” as he rubs your clit and forcing you to grind on his huge bulge, you let out a small squirt on his jeans—soaking it wet with the juices. He hums in approval at your submissive reaction—licking the sticky liquid around his finger while staring at you, like a provocative beast.

“Sweet cunt,” he says while chuckling.

“Is that enough?” he adds, cocking his eyebrow at you. You pant on his shoulder, slightly confused at his question. Isn’t he going to fuck you?

“I want more,” you whisper, looking breathlessly into his lusty eyes. Needy and desperate, completely different than you were few minutes ago.

“Again,” he commands.

“I want more, daddy,” you whine like a real kitten.

“Good girl,” His chest vibrates as he giggles.

Before you could say anything, he lifts the hem of your mini dress and pulls it above of your chest—leaving your boobs bounce to his sight. You squeal in surprise. In just a blink of eyes, he unclasps and throws your bra to the back seat. You look outside—you sure don’t wanna let anyone see you this erotic.

“Fuck,” his eyes darkened when he brings his eyes to your boobs—chanting a trail of curses and compliments before he gropes them, roughly. Your body jerk at the touch, making the boobs bounce.

“You’re fucking beautiful, do you know that?” he says under his breath before taking one of your nipples into his mouth—sucking the bud hungrily. Your chin is up—moaning even louder than before, as you press your body closer to him—deepened his mouth to your hardened bud. Your run your hand through his hair while the other one, holding on the car seat.

Every words that come out from his mouth, sounds like an ecstasy and it’s making your cunt pools with liquid. Skin tingles a lot and all you wanted is to feel him inside your body. He hums, biting the nipple, causing you to fill the car with his nothing but his name. His warm and playful tongue—goddamn it feels like heaven.

“Ju-Jungkook, get inside me,” you whine when he stop abusing your nipples.

“Hm?”

“Daddy, Please....uh ah!” you repeat.

You can see a boyish grin all over his face as he stares at you like a motherfuckinh predator. Your pussy clenches at the sight. What a view.

You can’t say anything when he trails his fingers to the strap of your panty before he rips it—exposing the raw pussy to his eyes.

“Babe!” you scream. He giggles, throwing the panty to the passenger seat as he slaps your ass.

“I’ll buy you a new one later,” he says, impatiently while staring at the pussy as he gives it slow stroke. You whine at the touch. It’s slow and addicting, now you suddenly miss his big cock.

Impatient, you push him against the car seat before you unbuckle the belt around his jeans and slightly pull the jeans to his knees—leaving his boxer alone. He says nothing as he watch you get the touch of his cock by yourself. When you see the throbbing bulge, you immediately pull the boxer—making his dick slapping your lower abdomen. You moan at the contact.

“Come, baby. Do whatever you want to do,” he gives a small kiss on your neck before he leans against the seat to let you take over. You catch his eyes for a few seconds before you look down and starts stroking his member from up to down, smearing the pre-cum all over the veiny cock. He groans at your soft touch, making you look at him while bitting your lower lip—seductively.

Jungkook throws his head to the back while slapping your ass over and over again as you please him. His dick is damn big and hard—you wonder how would he feels like inside this tight pussy of yours? Your cunt is screaming for the fill.

After few more strokes, you stop. Lifting your ass up while you rub the tip of his cock on the wet entrance, increasing the sensitivity. Both of you and him moan like crazy. Slowly, you sit down on him—completely burying his dick inside your tight and slippery pussy and making his dick disappear from the sight—causing you to scream to the air. Your man hisses, breathing hard as he looks down where his dick get buried.

“Goddamn, baby,” a breathy moan leaves his mouth—gripping your juicy ass so you can move in sync with him. You hold on his exposed muscular arms while the other hand is palming his chest before you start riding on the hard shaft. For the fact, you know Jungkook has been really big since day 1 but why the hell he makes the sex feel so damn good even you already had hundred sex with him? You open your mouth and moan while staring at each other’s eyes.

“Are you mine?,” you whisper, bouncing up and down on his dick—slapping his balls with your ass like tomorrow won’t come. His eyes pierce into yours.

“Yeah, kitten. I’m all yours” he bites his lower lip, grabbing your breast with his big hand and squeeze it roughly. The cold metallic from his ring increase the pleasure to all over your body. A gush of air leaves your lungs at the sensation. You scream his name.

“Da-daddy. Uh oh,” your body jerk. The sound of slapping skin fills the car, you’re very sure the car is shaking like hell. But, your mind is too busy to think about that. His big cock in your tight cunt. What a perfect combination.

“Fucking sexy. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he grunts through gritted teeth as he gropes the breasts while he watches you humping on his dick. His eyes never leaves yours like his life depends on it. Your system goes error that you barely can process what he just said. Throwing your head to the back, know nothing but his touch. When he notices your move becomes slower, he grabs your hips and quickened the pace up and down. Letting your wet pussy coating his member with white substances. A wet sound fills the space.

“Ah! Ah! More, more,” you lean forward and breathe on his neck, moaning, whimpering while he takes over the pace. Jungkook grunts in every thrust. He will make sure your pussy will be swollen.

“Fuck me harder, baby. Harder,”

“Of course,” he grunts. The pace quickened and the thrust deepened—making he hits your G-spot over and over again with no mercy. You clench around him just to hear his hot moan in your eyes. Tears prick on your eyes when the head is reaching your walls several times. It feels so good. So damn good being in his embrace while he is pumping inside you.

“Good, isn’t it?” he finds your eyes.

“Y-yes. Ah! Please, don’t stop,” your body twitches.

“You’re the only one who can make my cock becomes this hard,” he whispers to your ears.

“You make me want to bang this pussy harder every time I see you,”

“So,” thrust

“Fucking” thrust

“beautiful,” thrust

“and,” thrust

“hot,” thrust

He grunts in every words. You scream erotically and pant heavily on his sexy neck. Eyes rolled back, making you blind. Your legs becoming weak and shaky that you have no idea who are you going to walk.

“Even Rose can’t make me this horny. Only you. I’m all yours, baby girl. I’m yours,” he kisses your shoulder, still taking your pussy while chanting endless I love you’s. You can’t help but feel extremely loved. Sex is great but his words and reassurance—oh it brings you to another wonderland. You moan his name, moving your hips to reach the climax.

Breath hitched, endless moans, steamy car and rising chests.

“Daddy...” you calls him. He hums in shaky breath.

“Cum inside me,” you beg.

He chuckles, staring at you as you pulls away from his neck—pumping for few more times as you can feel his dick is twitching inside you. You clench around him—making him groan like a beast.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans and growls when your pussy clench around his cock. His breath hitched and shorten.

“Ah! Ah!” a lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his cum inside you, making your body bouncing and jerking at every shot. Your nails claw on his chest , biting down the lower lip while you stare to his darkened eyes. The eye contacts—so sexy. You scream as you reach the intense climax. Jungkook grunts as he keeps grinding your ass on his cock to fill every part of your pussy with his warm semen, making it drips out of the pussy and stain the seat.

You bury your face on his neck, nuzzling his strong scent from the perfume and sweat while panting hard—to let yourself calm. That was amazing and intense.

“I think I have my favourite kink now,” he says, stroking your head.

“What is it?” you squeak, tired from the intense fuck.

“Car fuck. I should fuck you at the back seat next time. Let’s see how loud your scream is,”

“Asshole,” you slap his chest playfully and it receives another sweet laughter from him. He knows you’re joking.

“Wow, that’s rude,” he mocks.

When you both finally calmed down, you clean the mess on his seat before you climb back to your seat, looking completely mess. Smudged make up, missing panty. Jungkook is indeed a beast when it comes to sex.

As the car starts to move, he glances at you. His raspy voice starts to fill the car.

“Keep the pussy wet. I can’t wait to eat your sweet cunt when we get home,”

“So, you know nothing but my name and dick,”

side note: send me requests and i’ll make it happen (no pressure)(also sorry for any errors and typo)

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung #namjoon #suga #yoongi #j-hope #hoseok #jimin #seokjin #bts imagines #kpop

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avenger-hawk · 3 years

Text

totally not Nar related rant under readmore. feel free to skip

My father became mentally ill as he got older. He’s like a clock, functioning or malfunctioning depending on the time of the day, and there’s no medicine that really works. But this is not the point of my rant.

The point is that some of his crazy behavior pattern, like taking one little random event and making it bigger and crazier until he can make a scene out of nothing and have everyone’s attention with his paranoid stories where he’s the victim of who knows which conspiracy, remind me of the crazy tumblr person who made my online life hell for like 2 years, more or less after the nar ending.

It’s been a lot since it’s over but sometimes I still remember how much time and energy that b*tch took from me, lying about herself and her life, trying to put me against my friends online and offline, using nar characters as comparisons for me, her, others, and manipulating me completely.

Tbh the fault is mine, because I sensed that something was off since the beginning, but I felt alone cause my friends and I had taken different paths in life, and my bf from back then was...huh..complicated, and even tho the more I interacted with that person the weirder vibe I got, I still did it because I was stupid and curious and my INTJ’s NI was kinda tingling with ‘what if’ lolol but it’s wrong and manipulators, narcissists and psychopaths should be isolated immediately. Also I didn’t realize that she was like this, only later, when I cut her off my life (and I had to deal with her insults in private emails and chat, not to mention her veiled insults in her tags) I started reading about this kind of people and understood.

Anyway, now that I see my father making his scenes, even tho he’s mentally ill with a totally different problem, I see her pattern of behavior and wow. I wouldn’t have wanted my father to get crazy earlier than he did but I kinda wonder if I would have been more prepared in this case. I would have saved more than 2 years of my life, because some ppl drain you so much that even turning the computer off and going out isn’t enough.

#hawk out #personal #meet the creeper

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inthebentley · 3 years

Text

It’s a Tradition

A gift for @tlakhtwritesdestiel for the @destielsecretsanta2020 exchange

Title: It’s a Tradition Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Jack, Sam Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, Christmas, Traditions, First Kiss, Mistletoe Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Team Free Will scrambles to put together a Christmas celebration for Jack, and Cas finds one tradition he'd like to try with Dean.

[ao3]

"We're gonna try and hit as many Christmas traditions as we can," Dean said. "I know Jack's expectations are high, but Christmas is tomorrow so we don't have much time." He grabbed a shopping cart and led Cas through the automatic doors.

"What traditions?" Cas asked, and he yawned. Understandable since Dean had dragged him out of the bunker at six that morning. "I thought you and Sam avoided celebrating Christmas."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to do it." He wheeled the squeaky cart toward a sign that said "Decorations". "First thing is trimming the tree. Sam is taking Jack to pick one out later, but we're gonna need ornaments."

The selection was pretty dismal. Dean probably should have expected that since it was Christmas Eve and most people had put their decorations up weeks ago.

Cas held up a dented box full of sparkly neon ball ornaments. "These look festive."

That was one word for it, Dean thought. But there weren't any better options so he took the box and dropped it into the cart. He also grabbed a few strands of lights in assorted colors while Cas spent a suspiciously long time looking at the bows on the other side of the aisle.

Dean crossed "tree" off his mental list.

"I would've said wrapping paper is next, but Sam helped him wrap gifts yesterday apparently." Dean, Sam, and Cas had all agreed that they would only exchange presents with Jack this year. Dean had gotten him a collection of Scooby-Doo on DVD that was packaged in a cardboard replica of the Mystery Machine and could double as a decoration in his bedroom. Truth be told, Dean nearly bought another one for himself. "We should see if they have any gingerbread house kits left."

"What are we going to put on the top of the tree?" Cas asked.

Dean turned to find him staring at the last angel and three star toppers left on the shelf. "Well, since I guess it would have to be an awfully big tree to get you up there without breaking limbs-" Cas glared at him "- grab the gold star. Now c'mon, we're gonna hit the baking aisles. Hopefully those are better stocked."

They weren't.

Dean found a gingerbread house kit wedged behind a few boxes of cake mix, and though it was a little dented it was better than nothing.

Cas took the box back out of the cart after Dean added it. "This looks very messy to eat after it's built and decorated."

"That's why we're not gonna eat it," Dean said. "That and the fact that it probably tastes like plastic. It's just for decoration. Besides, the next thing on our list is cookies and those are gonna taste awesome."

Dean continued to shop for another twenty minutes while Cas followed him around like a lost duckling. Only when he was satisfied that he had everything he would need for a decent Christmas dinner did he finally head for the check-out.

As they waited in line, Dean watched Cas browse the candy that lined the check-out lane.

He picked out a king sized bar that boasted "Now with even more nougat!" and put it into the cart.

"That one is Jack's favorite," he said.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I know, but between that and the cookies I'm gonna let you deal with the sugar high tomorrow."

Cas had been acting suspiciously ever since they got home from the store. Dean couldn't pin it down, but figured he'd get to the bottom of it later. Right now it was all about giving Jack the best Christmas he knew how.

They all sat beneath the haphazardly decorated tree as midnight approached. Sam had the great idea to string popcorn and Jack had loved that most of all. He was still making another strand as Sam read The Night Before Christmas off his phone screen.

Dean grabbed another sugar cookie from the plate between him and Cas. It kind of looked like a reindeer, if reindeer were purple with yellow stripes. Delicious, though.

"Is it time for presents, now?" Jack asked when the story was finished.

"Sure, kid." Dean pointed to his gift under the tree. "Open mine first."

Sam gave him the stink eye, probably because he knew Dean's gift would steal the show.

Jack tore into the wrapping paper with glee. "Scooby-Doo! This is so cool, thank you Dean." And he scooted forward on the ground to wrap Dean in a hug.

"Oh," Dean said, patting Jack's back a little awkwardly. "That's… that's good, I'm glad you like it."

When Jack pulled away to investigate his remaining gifts, Dean caught Cas smiling at him.

"What?" he asked, feeling a little defensive.

Cas' eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're a good dad, Dean," he said quietly as Jack started to rip up more paper.

Dean flushed.

"Oh wow!" Jack said, holding up a thick leather-bound journal and the king-sized candy bar from the store. "These are great!" He already had half the candy bar in his mouth when he went to give Cas the same thank-you treatment.

Dean didn't realize he was smiling until Cas caught his eye. Huh, he thought. "You're not so bad yourself."

They watched their kid open his final present.

Dean groaned. "A laptop, Sammy? Really?"

Sam just gave him a shit-eating grin over Jack's shoulder.

An hour later Jack was off to bed and his laptop was confiscated until Dean could set up some parental controls on the damn thing.

Cas lingered as Dean picked up the last of the wrapping paper from the floor. He leaned against the door frame casually, which wasn't casual at all. Dean glanced at him suspiciously and that's when something caught his eye. He stepped closer to see what it was.

"Cas, did you shoplift a piece of mistletoe?" Dean asked, not sure how to react to the strange situation he had found himself in.

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Did you buy the other supplies with a fraudulent credit card?"

"Point. But, uh… why?"

"It's a tradition," Cas said. He stepped closer to Dean. "One that I wanted to experience for myself."

His eyes never left Dean's, but Dean couldn't help the way he dropped his gaze to Cas' lips.

"Oh," Dean said. He looked up at the mistletoe above his head. "Might be bad luck to break tradition," he said, only half-joking.

"Then you'll kiss me?" Cas asked, his voice a low rumble.

Oh, Dean wanted to. He wanted to more than anything.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Dean hated the words that left his mouth when they caused Cas to fall back half a step. "This," he pointed at the mistletoe, "is convenient. An excuse. But it'll be gone after tomorrow."

Cas furrowed his brow. "I thought you would be glad of that."

"No, Cas." Dean reached out to touch his jaw lightly, just with his fingertips. "If I kiss you now, I'll need to do it every day for the rest of my life."

Cas' eyes widened and he surged forward to crash their mouths together.

At first it was too desperate to be a proper kiss, all teeth and bumped noses. But Dean slowed them down with one hand pushed into Cas' hair and the other rubbing gently between his shoulder blades until Cas' lips softened into something less fierce. When his hands unclenched from Dean's shirt to settle on his waist, Dean pulled back just a little and pressed their foreheads together.

"What do you say we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private and mistletoe-free?" he asked with a grin.

"It's actually holly, you know," Cas said, "so in theory we are not beholden to the tradition if we continue to stand beneath it."

Dean rolled his eyes, but nevertheless leaned in for another kiss.

#destielsecretsanta2020 #tlakhwritesdestiel #destiel #deancas #spn fic #bri writes fic

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