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run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 2 years

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This is a bit nsfw so if you’re not comfy just ignore this. So what if reader and Lucius are gossiping to each other instead of doing their work and iz comes to gripe at them till he’s stopped in his tracks when he hears the reader talk about all the things they want iz to do to them. He had assumed reader always hated him and would constantly pick on them because of that. He quickly walks away un heard and is avoiding the reader. Finally reader confronts him and then you decide from there~

Warnings: Izzy does a little slut shaming as a defence mechanism. Talk of sex but no sex actually happens.

Idle Gossip:

It was barely noon and Izzy was already scowling at the crew, already feeling the familiar rage bubbling up in his chest. All he wanted, all he had asked of you all, was for you to do your damn jobs. But instead of doing anything productive, you and Lucius were off in your own little world, probably gossiping about something completely inane.

Reading his orders and insults, Izzy made his way across the deck, down to where the two of you had cornered yourselves away.

"Laugh all you like but it's painful at this point," you groaned over the scribe's quiet laughter.

"You have it bad, babe," Lucius didn't sound very sympathetic, but he did sound fond.

"I know!" you huffed, "seriously, I'd let that man do anything he wanted to me."

Izzy faltered slightly as he approached, still going unnoticed by the two of you. The two of you were far from other members of the crew but you weren't whispering, like you didn't much care if anyone overheard.

"Anything?" Lucius lent in conspiratorially.

"I'd let him do things that afterwards he wouldn't be able to look me in the eye," you insisted.

Izzy rolled his eyes as he came to the corner the two of you were tucked behind. Is everyone on this ship a slut? And is everyone so shameless about it?

"I don't know, Izzy doesn't seem like the Dom type to me," Lucius hummed, unconvinced.

In an instant, Izzy froze. Still hidden behind the corner, he stared at the deck and wondered if he had heard correctly. Were you talking about him?

"Either way," he could practically hear you rolling your eyes. "God, Lucius, that voice. Could you imagine how he sounds when he's turned on. Fuck, when he moans."

"Bet he's kinda loud, being all repressed at all," Lucius was enabling you, God Izzy hated him.

"Izzy's just...fuck, Lucius, he's so fucking hot. Every time he gets all up in my face I'm just praying he'll pin me to the mast or something." Yeah, there was no way Izzy was misinterpreting this, you were talking about him.

"Maybe he wants you to pin him to the mast," Lucius suggested, "he does seem to focus most of his attention on you."

"...do you think?" you asked, a hopeful lilt to your voice. "I swear to God, I'll pin him to the mast and drop to my knees right there on the deck," there was a strange, playful, determination to your words.

Lucius let out a fond laugh. "You little slut," he teased, "you going to let us all watch?"

"You better be fucking sketching it, you can give it to me as a gift," you played along, making him laugh again.

Maybe it was the mention of sketching that made Izzy come to his senses, getting the fuck out of there. All thoughts of interrupting you and demanding you get back to work left him as he turned on his heel, quickly but quietly making his escape.

What the fuck?

It was later the same day when Izzy bumped into you again, you were had been distracted from your duties by Frenchie who wanted to show you a new song he was working on. Of course, the first mate's first instinct was to snap at you and get you back to work, but was suddenly struck with the conversation he overheard that morning.

Suddenly, he thought better than to shout at you, to interrupt. Instead, he ended up turning and leaving to berate the Swede instead. His head filled with thoughts of what you had said about it.

He wasn't avoiding you, not in the slightly. No, definitely not avoiding you.

And if he were avoiding you, which he wasn't, it wasn't because he was in some way newly intimidated by you. It would be more about...not knowing how to react to you anymore. He had been under the impression that you hated him, perhaps even more so than the other members of the crew, but apparently his assumptions had been wrong. You mustn't hate him as much as he thought if...well, if you were talking about how desperate you were for him.

Yes, completely not avoiding you.

It only took a couple of days for you to notice that Izzy was definitely avoiding you. He would give you orders through other people and when he had to give them to you directly he didn't snarl or insult the same way he usually did, the way he continued to do to the others to some extent at least. Most notably, he hadn't chastised you for slacking, which he would normally jump at the chance to do.

Heading into the galley, you grabbed your breakfast from Roach and dropped yourself down on the end of the bench.

"You alright, babe? You look all pent up," Lucius asked, turning his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone else was distracted with some story Black Pete was telling. A story that Lucius had heard plenty of times, so he could hear yours instead.

"I'm pretty sure Izzy is avoiding me," you muttered, prodding at your eggs.

"Yeah...now you mention it, he hasn't been singling you out like he normally does," Lucius hummed, fully turning his body to you. Of course, he had actually noticed this yesterday but was wondering if you had noticed.

"What do you think that's about?" you asked. "The other day I even tried purposely pissing him off and he just buggered off. Like, practically ran away."

"I would say that's strange but this is Izzy we're talking about...so, could just be him being his usual weird self," Lucius considered before shrugging, "just ask him. Even if he doesn't answer, his reaction will probably be pretty funny."

"Suppose so but...what would I say. 'Oh, Izzy, why haven't you been berating me like you usually do? I'm experiencing some unfortunate sexual frustration because of it'," you rolled your eyes before quickly glancing down the table, making sure nobody else was listening in. They didn't seem to be paying any attention to you, Pete had gotten to a particularly outlandish part of his tale.

"...well, at least it's honest," Lucius smirked.

"Fuck off, Lucius," you groaned, shoving a forkful of egg into your mouth. Lucius just laughed.

After lunch that day, you were lazing up on the deck with John and Frenchie. You smiled at Ivan when he approached.

"Izzy needs somebody down in the hold," Ivan told the three of you.

"What for?" Wee John asked with a small huff, one clearly directed at the first mate, not the messenger.

"Apparently it's a mess or something," Ivan shrugged, "he put me up on the helm. Just told me to send somebody down, doesn't matter who,"

"We're on swabbing duty," Frenchie informed him, though neither of them were swabbing anything.

"You're not doing anything though, are you?" Lucius appeared behind you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You jumped under the initial contact before glaring at him, knowing what he was up to. "They'll do it. Plus, they can read, that might be useful with organising and all," he volunteered your assistance.

"Yeah, alright, whatever," Ivan nodded, his job done, before heading off.

"Well, go on then," Lucius gave your shoulder a squeeze before releasing you.

"I'm going to kill you. When I get back, you're dead," you threatened, but neither of the three of them were convinced.

"Looking forward to it," Lucius grinned, shooing you off.

Frenchie and Wee John just shared a look of confusion before just shrugging and getting back to the conversation they were in the middle of before Ivan wandered over.

You rolled your eyes at Lucius but knew you weren't going to get out of this, so you headed down into the ship.

The sound of somebody walking down into the hold made Izzy turn around, bristling at the mere sight of you.

"Ivan said-" you began to politely explain your presence, even though he could figure out why you were there, since things had been tense. It was just something to say, but you were quickly cut off.

"Get this shit organised, it's a fucking mess," Izzy demanded, about to stomp up out of the hold, already half way across the room.

"Alright, what's your problem?" you sighed, turning to him as he passed you.

"Excuse me?" Izzy sneered as he turned back to you.

"You heard me, what's your fucking problem?" you repeated, knowing full well he heard you the first time. You wouldn't let him intimidate you, it had never worked before. "I mean, you're always an ass but that's just who you are, don't care about that. You're being...weird."

"I'm being weird?" Izzy scoffed, "is that an official complaint?"

"Yeah. You're always a dick to me, like me in particular, but now you barely even glare at me. You've picked me out, singled me out, for weeks. Now you're avoiding me," you accused.

"I am not avoiding you," of course, Izzy denied it.

"Don't lie to me, you're not that good at it. You're avoiding me. Why?" you questioned, arms folded over your chest.

"You're bugging me about how I'm not shouting at you?" Izzy asked, a mix between bewildered and frustrated.

"Kinda, could say that, yeah. Want to know what the problem is," you admitted with a shrug.

"Thought somebody would be grateful that I'm not shouting at them. Get off on it, do you? On me picking on you, on the attention. Do you just love to be the centre of it?" Izzy interrogated, stepping up to you, closing the distance.

"Izzy-"

"No, no that's not it, is it? You get off on discussing your superiors behind their back," Izzy accused, glaring at you.

"What...oh...oh shit..." your eyes widened, face warming, at the realisation.

"Yeah. Oh shit," Izzy agreed, his glare still hard on you.

"You heard me talking with Lucius?" you already knew the answer, but just to make sure.

"Should have figured the deviancy is more rampant around here than I first thought," Izzy was one step away from spitting at you by the sound of it.

"God, Izzy, I'm so sorry," you were quick to apologise, wracking your brain for ways to make this right.

"The two of you are just-"

"Seriously, call me whatever you want, I probably deserve it. I shouldn't have said those things, shouldn't have talked about you like that without your consent. I'm so sorry, Izzy," and now you were one step away from pleading for forgiveness. Not even mercy. Forgiveness.

"You're...what?" Izzy's glare disappeared, more due to confusion than anything, as he frowned at you.

"I'm sorry," you reasserted, "really, I am sorry. Obviously you weren't meant to hear that but that doesn't matter, doesn't make it any better. Shouldn't have done it."

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah, of course. It was inappropriate and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really meant no harm, just friends talking, y'know. But I promise it won't happen again."

You weren't sure if it was actually reassuring in any way but you couldn't take back what you had said, couldn't go back in time and prevent him from hearing, so now all you could do was apologise.

You weren't sure if it was working since Izzy was just staring at you.

"So, no, I don't get off on talking about people like that. Was just expressing some frustration, I guess," you continued when he didn't say anything.

"...you get off on being pinned to a past? Dropping to your knees in front of all your crewmates, making a spectacle out of yourself?" Izzy questioned, his expression hardening again, something dark flashing behind his eyes for a moment.

"I mean...among other things, I suppose," you shrugged weakly, unsure of how to respond.

"Get off on being degraded, being used, your partner not being able to look you in the eye afterwards," he used his own words against you. You couldn't help but wonder how much he had been thinking about that he had heard and why.

"Honestly, it's more to do with your intensity," you confessed, earning a sneer from the first mate. That seemed to catch him off guard a little. "Don't worry, I get it. You're trying to embarrass me," it wasn't difficult to catch on.

He seemed even more taken back by that, that you had seen through his attempts at humiliation as a form of defence.

"You talk about everyone like that?" Izzy asked after a short pause.

"No..." you decided that at his point, you might as well just be honest.

"I thought you hated me," Izzy's face scrunched up in confusion, seeming to settle on that rather than anger.

"Hate you? No, I just don't put up with your shit. I don't hate you, I'm just not afraid of you," you corrected him, knowing you couldn't be too surprised by his assumption. You couldn't blame him for thinking that the whole crew hated him, even if that wasn't exactly the case. Not anymore anyway. "Anyway, thought you hated me. Even more than the others, if that's possible."

Izzy squinted slightly, studying you before he spoke. "You're right. You don't take shit, thought you were messing me about on purpose, so I singled you out," he admitted, surprising you.

"See, this is why we talk things through as a crew. I don't hate you, you don't hate me. One big misunderstanding," you attempted a small laugh to lighten the mood but it was still tense.

"And was your conversation with Lucius a misunderstanding?" he asked.

"Well...no..." you frowned slightly, a little unsure about his line of questioning. "Unless, you thought I was making fun of you or something like that. Then that would be a misunderstanding. Surface level, though, no misunderstanding," you quickly added.

Izzy nodded, taking a step back and glancing off to the side in thought.

"So...can things just...go back to normal?" you asked, unable to tell if he was angry still or not.

"Yeah, yeah, guess so," he nodded slightly, barely at all.

"I'll organise all of this, don't worry," you assured him, gesturing around at the hold.

The best way to make something up to Izzy Hands? Do your fucking job.

"Fuck," Izzy sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "I'll give you a hand," he offered.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you just said, "thanks, I appreciate it."

"Fuck off," Izzy muttered before pushing past you, further into the hold once again.

You didn't plan on questioning or pushing him any further, just nodding and getting to work. The two of you worked in silence, moving around the hold, but sticking to your own sections, working together but staying out of each other's way.

"You really like my voice that much?" Izzy asked quietly, quiet enough that you could pretend that you didn't hear it.

For a moment you considered not answering, pretending you heard nothing, but you just couldn't do that. After your short pause, you glanced over at him. "Yeah."

"Fuck sketch it," Izzy snorted, sounding genuinely a little amused by the thought.

"I mean...you said it yourself, it would be a spectacle, would be a waste not to document it," you joked, hoping you had read everything right.

Thankfully, Izzy chuckled. You couldn't help but smile brightly to yourself, feeling giddy at getting a chuckle out of him despite also feeling totally out of your depth.

Were the two of you just laughing it of or was this...flirting?

"Never going to let the boy sketch me," Izzy warned but he didn't sound very angry.

"You're depriving the world, First Mate Hands," you tutted, shaking your head at him.

"Add it to my list of sins," Izzy scoffed.

You bit back a retort about adding plenty of other things to his list of sins, but you weren't exactly sure where his head was at with this while thing and what might cross the invisible line. If there even was a line.

Instead, you just laughed and continued with the task at hand.

Once the two of you had finished organising the hold, you stepped back to admire your hard work.

"I'd say labels would help but most of the crew can't read," you mused.

"So it'd still end up a mess." Honestly, Izzy probably thought they would still mess it up if they had somebody telling them exactly which steps to take.

"Could try pictures...get Frenchie to do them," you suggested.

"This fucking ship," Izzy grumbled, heading for the stairs.

The thought of the hold being organised by Frenchie's little doodles was nearly enough to make him jump overboard.

You just laughed, trotting after him. "If it works, it works," you shrugged.

"...I'll think about it," Izzy conceded with a sigh.

"Going to turn you into one of us before you know it," you playfully promised.

"I'm already having ridiculous fucking conversations," he muttered. He had long since stopped wondering how he ended up here.

"Eh, you like it really," you insisted.

Izzy rolled his eyes. "Lunch should be getting prepared now. Roach actually has decent time management skills. Go grab something," he ordered.

"You not eating with us?" you asked, allowing yourself to sound a little hopeful, welcoming.

"Never eat with you," he pointed out.

"...mix it up a bit," you smiled, still aiming for welcoming, offering the invitation.

"Yeah, like changing up who's against the mast?" Izzy asked, making you sputter slightly.

"Fucking hell, Izzy, you're killing me here," you groaned. "Okay, stop for a minute. Be serious with me, are you just joking or...?"

If he was joking with you, you couldn't really blame him, you probably deserved it at least a little. You wouldn't even be upset with him, you just needed to know which parts of the teasing were serious and which were just him poking fun at you.

Izzy did stop, pausing to look at you. Not just look at you, he looked you up and down, making you shift a little under his scrutiny, wondering what he was thinking. He was rolling the answer around in his mind, as if he wasn't already aware of his answer.

"Not completely joking," Izzy shrugged, actually managing to seem casual.

You felt your knees go a little weak. He couldn't just say things like that!

You gathered your senses up as quickly as you could. "Y'know, I think I might have, uh, left something down in the hold, I should go check," you gestured back towards the hold, pivoting on one foot.

Izzy nodded slowly, there clearly being some understanding as to your intentions, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't biting and that was okay, you just smiled and turned back.

"Need some help looking for it?" Izzy called from behind you, making you halt.

You grinned to yourself before schooling your expression and looking back at him over your shoulder, "couldn't hurt."

Izzy nodded again before following you back down into the hold. Once down in the dim room, you wandered over to the far corner, out of sight if anyone else wandered down. And Izzy followed.

You turned to him and let him approach, and he let you take hold of his necktie, making sure not to touch his ring. He let you tug him towards you, gripped at your shirt when your mouth met his.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd x reader

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theiris-storyvault · 2 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Stranger!

Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Fluff

a/n: I refuse to believe my baby Koo is 25. 🥲 No way my bunny boy is getting older. Anyway, let's pretend that Overwatch 2 will be released on JK's birthday when in truth it's like a month away.

🧋

Days as a part-timer were never really fun to you like they described because nothing much really happens in a boba shop. Especially on weekdays when there are clearly no people interested to buy sweet drinks with gelatinous balls of more sweetness.

Today, you were particularly more positive than any day. That's just because the new video game you were waiting on was finally getting released later tonight and you've been looking forward to just spending the whole weekend in your pajamas, finishing the whole lore. Standing behind the counter, you keep your eye on the clock as it struck from hour to hour waiting to be released from your job you just had to take to pay rent and buy food.

It was now 1PM. The store had about say, 2 people and a child who had been running around their table for 10 minutes now (You counted). Thinking it would end here, you pull a chair to the corner behind the counter and take out a comic. If you were to waste hours and wait on a day, why not spend it all on reading? At least you were entertained and productive.

However, not even a few minutes pass, and a group of 7 boys come barreling into the shop. They were loud and laughing as they sang happy birthday repeatedly to the boy who had a smile on his face. For a moment, he caught your attention. Other than the fact that he was insanely attractive, you seemed to have seen him before somewhere, but you shrug it off and quickly attend to them as they finally approach the counter. "Hi! May I know what you'll be having today?" The alleged birthday boy pushes his friends away as they continue to laugh and sing at him. He watches them make their way into the end of the store, taking a seat by the window. He sighs, turning back to you with a small apology. "I'm sorry for that, they seem to be more excited to celebrate my birthday than me," He says shyly, failing to make eye contact with you. This makes you smile.

"It's alright." You say. Clearing his throat, he takes a look at the menu above your head, memorizing each one. He lays down the order and pays his balance before heading to his friends. As you make their order, your mind wanders to the boy you just met. He had a quality that allowed him to be somewhat unforgettable. His eyes maybe. They stared at you, doe and soft. Or maybe his bunny teeth that took up most of his face when he smiles. Or his tattoo sleeve that of course has a fascinating story latched on to it. Or it could be all of these things. Get it together Y/N. You remind yourself as you tune back in to work. As soon as you finish making their drinks, you head over and serve them one by one.

You can feel a few of their gazes on you and this alone makes you nervous. (Also one of the reasons why you dread working here.) "Order's complete. Enjoy, and uh" Your eyes fall back on to the boy, who was already looking at you, "Happy Birthday". He smiles softly this time. "Thanks". You walk out of the scene, tray on your side. you can hear them laugh and snicker at him but you didn't bother listening in, because as soon as you see the clock, your smile widens. It was time.

Jungkook looks at you as you walked away from their table earning teases from his older friends. Jimin nudges him, "Why don't you go ask for her number?" Jungkook shakes his head, taking a big sip from his boba. They all sigh but laugh it out anyway. They stay for a moment, talking about how dinner would go later tonight. Jin would cook him a steak, and a birthday stew while the others would prepare fun games to cap off the night. At this point, Jungkook was half-and-half. Half listening, and half thinking about you. You were so pretty that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about your face even if he wanted to. "That good for you, Kook?" Namjoon asks, as 5 other eyes focus on the younger boy. "Huh? Oh yeah, all good" He responds half-heartedly, but they didn't seem to mind. Not long after they all make their way out.

Jungkook walks slowly behind them, trying to look for you but you weren't around anymore. You must have left, he thought, taking one last sip before throwing his cup away.

In line, you stood happily at the nearest video game store there was trying to contain your screams and happy jumps as you watch the line fall shorter and shorter, and soon enough it was your turn to enter. Immediately, you rush to the aisle where they said it was and quickly snatch the last disc on the shelf. You feel annoyed eyes on you but you didn't really care. Making your way to the counter with a big bright smile, you bump into a man who seemed to be focused on looking for something. He towered over you, so when you looked up, you were surprised to see that it was the boba shop boy.

"Oh hey," He says, taking a step back to move away from you. "Hey, what are you doing here?" You ask. "Trying to get the newly released version of Overwatch, I've been waiting on it for years! I was happy to know it would get released on my birthday." You listened to him intently as he talked. It was the most you've heard his voice. You figured he was more comfortable talking with people who shared interests, so you smile, and lift up the disc. His smile grows wider, as his eyes sparkled realizing you had been the same.

Now you didn't have the guts to tell him that what you were holding was the last of everything. The man seemed too hopeful. So instead, you say "Okay, I'll see you at the counter!" before bolting away. During your walk, you think about what to do. Whether or not to just leave it for someone to see, take it selfishly, or give it to him. It was crazy to you that you even had the thought of giving something you've been waiting on for so long, but he had something on you to make you feel this way about him.

"59.99" The cashier rings up. You reluctantly hand in your credit card, and as soon as you get the bag. You turn to try and look for him again. You find him sadly walking around and immediately you knew he figured it was all out. With a heavy sigh, you take one last look at the game before running toward him.

"Hey!" You say, trying to stop him from leaving so soon. He looks at you sheepishly. Without a word, you hand him the bag with a soft smile. "Here, happy birthday." You say. For a moment, he was frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. "H-hey no! This is yours and it costs way too much. I can wait" Something about a man covered in tattoos and piercings who acted too shy was adorable to you. "Well uh, think about it as me lending it to you for a while. You could play first, and I'll wait for you to finish." You push the plastic handle onto his hand which he hesitantly holds onto. He bows lowly to you making you giggle. "Enjoy the game, stranger." You say before walking out. "Jungkook!" He screams making you stop your tracks. You turn to look at him with an eyebrow up. "My name is Jungkook." He says. "Y/N."

He smiles at you, and immediately your mind was going wild. His smile was so hypnotizing in a way. He breaks the silence again by asking you "Hey uh what's your number?" You look at him astounded. He soon realizes and flails his hands. "No Uhm, just so I know how to reach you to give it back?" He clears making you chuckle. "Here, give me your phone." You say, and he obeys. You quickly input your number before handing him his phone back.

"Enjoy the game, Jungkook." You say before walking out. He stares at your back as you walked away from him knowing that he definitely will.

#jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts boyfriend #bts stories #jeon jungkook #bts jungshook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

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ask-hannah-blog · 5 months

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Hey.... "Pretzel" again.

I'm gonna be honest this might be kinda TMI but I need to get this out of my chest real bad so here goes.

After that incident at the store, I've been trying really hard to just move on and forget about it. Still though to do that I knew I should delete whatever weird ass "Toe Cleavage" photos I took of this random woman's feet. The problem is, as soon as I open my phone gallery and see the photos I get so fucking embarrassed! I get red-faced from how ashamed I am and then, of course, the fucking clown brain gets me horny!!!

Then a huge fart comes out of my titanic tush and I instantly pop a boner!

FUCKKKK!!!! Ugh, so there I am rubbing myself up and down and eventually I can't take it and I just whip it out. I'm gonna be honest for the past few days I've been kinda neglecting to look after my dick and I think the poor thing was a little antsy to get some action again. So I got no choice but to alleviate my... "tension". I get to it and that's when I finally notice it. I take care of myself so I never really had a particularly smelly penis, but then the thing just hits me with its full-on musk and that's when I realize something else: my dick smells like a hot wiener. Joy.

I can't say I particularly cared at the moment though since I was busy coating my phone's screen with a gallon of cum. I dunno if it was the Estrogen, the clown flu, or me just not spanking it for a while but I was GUSHING.

So obviously once I was done I got to work wiping it all off, especially off my phone. Then a naughty idea struck me:

"what if you just licked it off your phone?"

Despite recognizing the foreign thought, I was still horny so I mentally shrug and go along with it.

Guess what? My jizz tastes like mayonnaise. Good mayo too. So when I'm done lapping that up and I'm nice and satisfied I sit there in my post-nut clarity with one extra craving in my mind: "I could use my own cum as dressing on the stuff I eat." That thought alone makes me feel all loopy and happy and giggly.

So yeah, it was a bit of a crazy evening for me. Have I mentioned how freaking weird clowns are? Cuz my God are we extra with the weirdness sometimes.

The gas is here to stay btw, so screw me I guess! Pretzel out. Have a great day Hannah. Hope I didn't get you too worked up with this.

Pretzel! 🥨

You’re getting so savory with your musky weinie and mayo cum! Hyuck! Or should I say Hyum! Hehe.

It’s always a pleasure to hear from you it sounds like you gave your stuffies quite the show! Next time you should get them in on the show, and put the in the splash zone! Maybe they’ll grow their own little stuffy dildos and fleshlights! Then they can join in on your act.

I think maybe the flu isn’t planning on helping you transition after all. I’m just saying that because generally TFs don’t change things they plan on getting rid of. So if you’re getting a hot dog musk and increasing mayo production, I think the transformation has BIG things in mind. Strange that it’s happening if you’re still on estrogen but I’m beyond trying to understand this mess.

Hehe it really must have some really hot toe cleavage if it’s enough to make you dumb and forget what you’re doing. I almost want to see it! Hehe.

Hmmm if looking at it is distracting you, how are we gonna delete it I wonder…hmmm. I’m open to tips from the audience at that one. My suggestion is to throw that phone into the cornfield and run! But not everyone breaks phones as often as me!

Hehe I’m thinking about your friend on the phone. I wonder if she can sense the crazed half-clown jerking off to her

HOT

TOE

CLEAVAGE

Hehe hyuck I wonder what she’d think. I bet she’d be freaked out, knowing her feet are getting drenched in gallons ofclown cummies every time you look at them!

Ugh it makes me so sad everyone in your little town thinks you’re a freak! I wish I could just bring you home and let you sleep on the couch.

I wish you had a friend over there, or at least a clowny little servant like my Daisy.

Hmmm…

If I did have any psychic clowny powers, I’d send all my vibes towards the lady in that picture. I’d bombard her with clowny waves, so that next time you see her in line she’ll be buying pretzels, hotdogs and Mayonnaise because she’s just been having the STRANGEST cravings! Then you’d know she’s ripe for plucking! Hyuck!

Hehe ha…

But yeah, that foot bomb is crazy with how hard it hits, I felt like I was going crazy at first. But having been though it I do understand what the clowns were telling me when they said it was inevitable I should just accept it, because being in denial of it, it just felt like it was growing and growing inside of me until I popped and became a foot fiend or something. But now I’m just like “Oh I just have a foot fetish, I can manage this.” At least so far, I know some people never get over that it and just become mindless feet fappers.

I guess what I’m saying is i recommend you accepting the hot toe clevage and seeking out material other than that poor woman’s foot so you can develop the fetish at your own pace and not exploding like I did. Just worried if your only exposure to it is an illicit picture you took of a woman without her knowing that behavior might get hardwired in. Don’t want you becoming some creepy stocker clown following ladies around with a camera for the perfect shot of their feet to add to your cum drenched photo wall.

Boy I have a lot to say, I just like keeping up with you Pretzel!

Okay last thing.

I love you just ripping ass before going to town on yourself. That’s just full on hedonism, pig stuff. Just announcing to the world “hey I’m here to fuck! Lol. You know, so long as you’re not just huffing your own gas while shaking hands with the mayor I think it’s fine. It’s a normal bodily function, so being a little gassy is nothing to be embarrassed of.

Until next time Pretzel! We’re all rooting for you. Hehe we’re all tooting for you! 😂

Ms Hannah!

#transformation #mind control #ask blog #hypnosis #clowntf #clown girl #clown #feet

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 year

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February 23: End of Week; Three Men on a Boat

This day has strong Friday energy. By which I probably mean that I am just so tired and so worn that I do not see how I'm going to get through tomorrow... I took a nap after work hoping it would help and maybe tomorrow I'll find that it did but right now I just feel, like... tired from the other end. Tired from not wanting to get up instead of tired from needing to go to sleep.

But I can't skip out on Friday because there is free breakfast and also, more importantly and less importantly, I have Production Studio training. I'm excited about the training, nervous about getting there. I almost never go to the undergrad library and about half the times I've attempted to go there I get lost because it is very big but it's also, like, not on any street. It's in a sort of rounded area that simply does not make sense to me.

I am continuing to read Three Men on a Boat, getting to about the halfway point, I think. Or have just reached it? I'm still enjoying it a lot. I especially like the little intros to each chapter. They're very funny but also pleasing in a hard to describe way... I sort of wish all books had little summaries like that because it helps soothe my obsessive need to quiz myself on every single paragraph I've read.

I also enjoy how J. creates humor out of being self-aware but pretending he is not self-aware; sort of making fun of himself, as he makes fun of his friends, but by pretending to be quite serious and straight-faced about it. I'm also struck by how much physical humor there is for it being a book. I can see why there were so many adaptations of it, although on the other hand, another big chunk of the humor comes from linguistic tricks like register changes that would be hard to adapt. Finally, I might have said this before, but I really think this book, or Jerome himself if alive and on social media, would do big numbers on tumblr. The humor is so intensely relatable and a lot of it has aged well: yes, I too have had problems packing my toothbrush!! Etc.

Some of my favorite incidents so far, in no particular order:

The whole towing chapter, especially the anecdote about the couple who lost the old aunt (I laughed so loud at this I wondered if my coworkers could hear me but no one expressed concern for my safety so I guess it was okay);

The slapstick comedy of packing;

Getting lost on the river and then being saved, just at the same moment as he starts thinking about banshees and ghosts, by accordion music;

Montmorency is an angel, in the form of a dog, who must surely be taken too soon....;

The slapstick comedy of getting the cover on the boat;

The 'fashion-plate' ladies on the boat;

Putting the basin of water by George's bed for him to step into when he woke up;

George's misplaced confidence in his ability to do things like wash clothes in the river or play the banjo.

Sadly, and embarrassingly, I don't know enough about boating to always understand quite what they're doing. Looking up what the boat looked like wasn't too difficult but I feel like I could use a boat-terms dictionary and also a few youtube videos for context.

#the year 2023 #2023: rl #2023: reading

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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HSLOT HOUSTON

Okay, I’m actually so happy with this one. Come talk about it with me in my inbox! 😌

warning: smut

please like, comment, share, rec!

🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠

It was a bit of a shock, well a lot of a shock when YN is scrolling through her instagram time and it becomes flooded with a gif of her husband passionately kissing a gorgeous blonde.

The trailer for Don’t Worry Darling had dropped out of nowhere and now there was a nasty feeling on jealously, insecurity, and possessiveness in the pit of her stomach.

She knew it was irrational, they were married for fucks sake, but those emotions weren’t always rational.

YN watched it, over and over, until she tossed her phone onto the side table hard enough that it slides off and falls harshly on the ground.

Harry and crew were downstairs, it didn’t look like the Houston show was going to happen because of the storm.

She felts ridiculous and immature for the tears welling up in her eyes. It’s not like she was upset or mad at him.

She was proud of him for his acting abilities and all of his hard work - that’s why she was mad at herself right now.

YN knows Harry is expecting her downstairs to help figure out details, what to do for the fans, etc.. because she was a major part of the production crew.

But she nearly felt like she was going to throw up.

Could you blame her?

Who on earth would want to see their significant other making out passionately for the world to swoon over?

YN scrubs the tears from her cheeks, hadn’t even realized they were falling.

She does the worst thing ever, pulls it back up and starts ready comments, especially from their friends - it almost felt like betrayal. Jeff, Glenne, Lambert, Gemma.

A message appears at the top of the screen.

Bunny 🐰: come on darling, need you down here. meeting is about to start 😗

Her fingers hesitate.

yn: be down in five

Bunny 🐰: is everything okay? where’s my kiss? 😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗

She sighs, she feels bad because it’s not his fault.

He had been offered the role, came home and instantly told his wife that if she wasn’t comfortable with him having romantic scenes - he’d turn it down.

YN wasn’t like that.

When she was being logically she would never want to stand in the way of Harry persuing his dreams.

It was acting and she had even been on set a few times when there were heated scenes but it just felt different - uncomfortable.

YN throws one of the bunny merch hoodies, a pair of cropped leggings, and black nikes before heading down from their suite to the conference room.

Harry had purposefully kept the seat open for her, right next to him, and she slips into quietly as they continue to talk.

There were a lot of higher ups in the room, from the venue, the touring company, his team - deciding on what they should do about the weather warning.

He instantly tugs her as close of possible to him with a long arm wrapped around her shoulder and a subtle kiss to the side of her head.

They’re talking about the people standing outside in the rain for GA, they all get quiet, and Harry nudges his wife, “Darling, they’re talking t’you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?” YN asks, eyes a bit wide in embarrassment at all the stares on her face.

A venue manager speaks up, “How do you think the fans will react and how can we ensure them of another show here. We do not want to lose the business of this concert.”

“Obviously upset. People have flown in for the concert - so maybe if you reach out to some of those fans and reimbursement their flights, they’d be more likely to come back and that would look good on you guys,” YN offers, tense and trying to ignore Harry’s concerned expression - he could always tell.

“Jamie, get on that,” The man orders with an executive nod that he liked the idea and Harry squeezes her shoulder lovingly.

The meeting goes on, she would normally wait for Harry to wade through all the people wanting to speak to him but she zips through the maze of bodies and back down the corridor to the elevator.

She about there when she hears someone running to catch up with her, knows exactly who it is when he pulls her back into his strong chest.

“Wha’s wrong?” Her husband murmurs in her ear, lips brushing softly and his arms keeping her as close as possible.

“It’s nothing, I just need some time alone,” YN sighs, stepping out of his warm embrace and turning to face him.

“Did I do somethin’? Baby, c’mon,” He coaxes, frowning as he studies her face, “Talk t’me, please.”

“I’m just - I’m being dumb,” She chuckles with no humor in her tone, tears welling again and she is quick to cover her face in her sleeve because fans are being to notice them.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get y’upstairs,” Harry replies, guiding her towards the elevator and throwing his arm around her to block her - it would look playful in the fan photos.

The crowd gets irritated when Harry refuses to stop and sign things, take pictures but his bodyguards quickly block them from getting to close.

Once in the elevator, alone, Harry cups her face gently, “Baby, y’gotta tell me what’s going on, m’confused.”

“The trailer, it came out and -“

Harry is perplexed for a moment, “Is that why everyone’s blowing up m’phone?”

Then he’s pulling it out, swiping a few times, and the short ten-second trailer is playing across his screen and he knows instantly.

“Sweetheart,” He sighs, tucking it back into his pocket, “M’sorry-“

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” YN interrupts him, eyes frantic as she speaks, “I’m not - It’s not your fault. I just wasn’t expecting it and it threw me off. I am so proud of you -“

“But y’a bit jealous, huh?” Harry smirks, rubbing his thumb against her bottom lip lightly, tugging to tease a bit.

“You’re my husband. Of course, I don’t want to see you do that with anyone else,” YN replies, watching as her husbands eyes meld into something fiery and golden.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks, voice deepening into what YN likes to call his sex voice and it really does work - makes her stomach flip.

“Harry, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m re-“

Harry hits the red stop button on elevator, pausing the movement - it was a single elevator to the penthouse so it wasn’t effecting the rest of the hotel guests.

“Let me tell you a secret. The day we had to film tha’ scene, when I had to kiss someone who wasn’t you over and over again. When I had to act like I would fuck someone other than you,” Harry’s teeth are grazing her jugular dangerously, his breathe minty and cool, “You remember that one night on the balcony?”

“Mm,” YN agrees shakily, she remembers that night a few months ago well.

Harry had come home from set with a mission.

He hadn’t disclosed what happened that day and YN had completely forgotten to ask later on.

When he stormed through their master bedroom and swung open the balcony doors, his eyes fall hungrily on his wife who’s reading a book on their balcony. ***

Her skin was glowing on the dim fairy lights and reflection of the moon, it was late- nearly midnight when he’d finally gotten home.

She was lounging on the sofa, sprawled in a silk pajama set that was simple but so sexy in the way her natural breasts lay without a bra - nipples poking at the fabric.

It had only taken him a moment, he’d been hard the whole ride home thinking about his wife, and when he saw that, he was striding over and murmuring, “You know your safe words, right baby?”

It was him eating her out hungrily, ridding her of her clothes and him still fully dressed as he nipped and sucked at her clit.

Then he had bent her over the balcony railing, overlooking the Hollywood hills where surely their neighbors could have seen if they squinted.

His fingers were digging harshly into her backside, thrusting and having her tits sway with the force as he praised her on how well she took it.

And it ended with back on the couch, her legs soaked from her multiple releases, skin smattered in bruises and love bites, and Harry kissing her roughly as he pinched her clit and released inside her.

“The reason I wrecked y’tha’ night was because doing all that shit on set made me want to come straight home to m’wife,” Harry whispers like there’s other people in the elevator with them.

“Harry,” She mutters shyly, avoiding eye contact and looking down to the marble floor.

“No, look at me, baby. All I could think about were how much better your mouth feels, how no one can ever compare to how fuckin’ sexy y’are,” He rumbles, his hand is slipping underneath her hoodie and palming at her belly.

“Love you,” YN replies, reaching up to press their lips together and whine when his tongue automatically finds it way into her mouth.

“Been with you since I was fifteen. Y’know tha’? There’s a reason for that, s’because nobody gets to me like you do. You always make me crave more. The reason I put that rock on y’finger and y’name on m’bank account.”

“Bunny, please.”

Harry smirks against her lips, “Please what?”

“Fuck me, c’mon,” She begs desperately, his hand teasing at the waistband of her leggings but not giving her anything.

“Gotta give it t’you when you ask, s’my husbandly duty,” Harry kisses her again, hands moving to tug them down.

“Yes, be a good husband,” She scolds, getting on her tiptoes out of instinct as he slips two fingers up into her.

“M’tryin’,” He gruffs, hissing at how wet she is for him as he curls his fingers towards the front her wall to hit her spot, “Only one f’me. Never want anyone else, been an love-struck idiot for you since I was fifteen.”

After they finish, Harry presses the button to restart the elevator and they’re both panting, with a light sheen on sweat.

When they step into the foyer of the penthouse, Harry cups her face and makes sure he has her full attention.

“I love you. If this movie or me acting with other people romantically is too much for you. Please tel me, m’job is never more important than m’marriage,” He says seriously, face still splotchy from coming in the sticky, hot elevator.

She shakes her head, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable - well, not when I’m thinking logically. I’m proud of you, I can’t wait to see the movie.”

“I love y’so much, sunflower. Y’my soulmate, the reason I have the courage and confidence is because of you.”

#hslot!harry #hslotrry #hslot verse #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #update #file

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wandaromanova · 3 years

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Serendipity

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one swear word, symptoms of pregnancy

A/N: hello! this is a combination of two requests i received. this is my first try at a pregnant!character fic. so, i really hope y’all enjoy. happy reading <3

anons requested: I would like to request a fluffy pregnant!Wanda x reader and honestly the only thing I specifically want is WANDA’S HEAD TILT and reader is just intimidated lmaoo because I’d imagine her to be moodier as well with the pregnancy. (also who doesn’t want that head tilt???) + hey, i love your writing and i was wondering if i can request a one shot.. i love pregnant Wanda and maybe this could be a fluffy story (fem Reader) where she’s all antsy and demanding and we are just tired but still do whatever Wanda asks of us because we love her so much, i mean, yeah, i’ll leave the other details to your imagination if you feel inspired and comfortable writing it, thank you

Summary: Together, Y/N L/N and Wanda Maximoff embark on the unpredictable path to parenthood.

Word Count: 3.5K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

The aspect of becoming a parent is equivocal.

Depending on the situation, you’re either extremely excited, mortified, or a combination of both. Whether a pregnancy is intentional or not, there is one undeniable fact of the matter; the ability to bring new life to the world was stunning.

No one ever really truly takes the miracle of pregnancy into consideration.

A small dot on an ultrasound monitor turns into a human being in a mere matter of months. Not only that, but that little speck is the tangible product of two individuals coming together as a whole.

Of course, parenting is as exciting as it is daunting. Having to take care of another human was a huge responsibility. It is your job to support and raise them as best as you can. Your child is clay in which you mold and form into shape with your bare hands.

How your daughter or son turns out is a direct reflection of your parenting skills and that in itself was mortifying.

You and your wife, Wanda had been trying for pregnancy for over a year.

It was heartbreaking, the seemingly endless number of times that the store-bought pregnancy test would flash a singular red line, indicating that your attempt had failed yet again. And with each negative, your hope had slowly diminished, as did Wanda’s.

However, the moment the familiar red line was accompanied by its twin, your entire world was turned upside down in the most beautiful way possible.

You could vividly recall the excitement and shock that struck you both as you stood in the bathroom of your shared apartment. With wide eyes, Wanda looked between you and the stick as tears of happiness cascaded down her pale cheeks.

A squeal met your ears as your wife jumped into your arms. You immediately caught her, spinning your bodies in circles as emotional laughter ricocheted off of the bathroom walls and echoed acoustically.

After so many failed attempts, Wanda was finally pregnant and in due time, you would welcome your child into the world. This was one of the happiest moments of your life, second to your wedding day.

Nonetheless, you knew that nothing in the world would ever compare to the day you would finally get to hold your kid in your embrace. You couldn’t wait for the gorgeous road of pregnancy.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Okay, gorgeous definitely wasn’t the word you should’ve used.

The day after the amazing news, you and Wanda visited a highly-praised obstetrician. After all, you only wanted the best for your wife and child.

The doctor did a clinical pregnancy test to confirm Wanda’s pregnancy, and thankfully, it was true. Your wife was four weeks along and the doctor informed you both of the possible symptoms that may present themselves throughout the first trimester.

You and Wanda were shocked as the doctor rambled on. Unbeknownst to you both, she had already been experiencing symptoms. From the slight cramps to her extremely sensitive and tender breasts, it all made complete sense now.

You hung onto every word your doctor said and definitely felt fear settle in as she went on. Your wife was going to be going through an emotional and physical rollercoaster as her body adjusts to the drastic change.

She was growing another person inside of her body, of course, it wasn’t gonna be a walk in the park.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Week 5

Everything seemed to be going fairly well, but you knew not to get your hopes up.

Wanda had been fairly moody the entire week. One minute, she was cuddling into your side, practically clinging to you like a koala as you lounged in the living room. And the next? She’s crying because you apparently preferred the television over her.

One night, her mood swings were especially confusing.

You’d gotten home from a long day at work. It was a long day of boring meetings that you, nor the rest of the Avengers, didn’t seem to care about.

Since discovering that Wanda was pregnant, she made the decision to step down from the hero mantle indefinitely.

So, while you were at work, she stayed home.

You sighed as you entered your home, a feeling of relief washing over your body as you took in the warmth that greeted you.

Wanda came bounding down the stairs as you kicked off your boots, a wide smile on her face.

She didn’t hesitate to fling herself into your arms, hers wrapping around your neck while yours rested on her waist.

“Hi.” Wanda muttered against the crook of your neck, nuzzling her face into your skin and reveling in your presence. You let out a content hum.

“Hi, my love. I missed you today.” You spoke calmly, enjoying the feeling of the woman in your arms.

However, you were caught by surprise when Wanda suddenly pulled away from your arms, an angry look plastered across her features.

“Oh. So, you don’t miss me any other days? Only today?” Your eyes widened at your wife’s words.

Her eyebrows were scrunched together, head tilted to the side. This was a stance that had enemies quaking in fear, and you definitely understood why.

There was something about the murderous tilt of her head and the death stare that could burn a hole into your head that incited terror.

“I- no! Of course not, Wands. I miss you every day we aren’t together.” You immediately rambled on, trying to save yourself in this unusual conversation. “So, you don’t miss me when we’re together?”

Your confusion increased tenfold. You didn’t even know how to reply to her question which she delivered in an accusatory tone.

How could you miss her when she was with you? That didn’t make any sense, but apparently, it made perfect sense to Wanda.

“Wha- What I meant to say was that I- I miss you every minute of every day. Whether we are together or apart, it doesn’t matter. You’re the love of my life and my heart will always want you.”

The room fell silent as you anxiously awaited your wife’s reaction. Obviously, you meant every word you said but couldn’t help but internally cringe at how cheesy they really were. You panicked as Wanda’s piercing eyes turned glossy, tears swelling up in her eyes.

Initially, you thought you had said something to make her sad, but you quickly learned that it was the opposite.

“Really? Every minute of every day?” Wanda asked shakily as her voice quivered, tears slowly streaming down her face.

You nodded, taking a risk and moving closer to her. When she didn’t pull away, you placed your hands on her cheeks, gently wiping away the fallen droplets.

“Yes, Every. Single. Minute.” You spoke softly, kissing her forehead gently with each word to emphasize your point.

Wanda’s eyes fluttered shut as she released a small sigh. There was a beat of silence as you pulled away from her forehead. You smiled at the Sokovian and she smiled back, but hers faltered after a minute.

“You’re lying to me! It’s impossible to think about me every minute!”

“Oh my god.”

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Week 8

As expected, Wanda’s symptoms had increasingly grown. However, this week was definitely the worst you had seen by far. By the worst, you meant the most exhausting not only for yourself, but also for your wife.

You had learned to handle her mood swings, learning to be cautious of your word choices and the way they were spoken. You were able to bring comfort to Wanda, gently massaging her breasts as the tenderness became unbearable. When Wanda began bloating, you made sure she drank plenty of water and took probiotics daily.

But those were the manageable symptoms. It was the fatigue, nausea, and insistent restroom use that were the problem.

Wanda’s body was working extra hard to accommodate your child, and it was expected that she would be exhausted. This would have been an easy solution, right? All she had to do was rest and that was the end of that, right? Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

Wanda was extremely nauseous throughout this time, constantly waking up and rushing to the restroom to empty the contents of her stomach. You would wake up as she got up from the bed, quickly following after her and not hesitating to hold her hair back.

If Wanda wasn’t going into the restroom to throw up, it was to use the restroom. She needed to use the restroom at least six times a night. There wasn’t a single night of uninterrupted sleep on both parts.

You were tired as well, but knew better than to complain. You weren’t the one carrying the child, so the least you could do was be with your wife every step of the way. If supporting her meant waking up at ungodly hours of the night with her, then you would do just that.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Week 15

Wanda was extremely bossy this particular week. Of course, you didn’t mind doing things for her. She was your wife after all, and you loved her. You would do anything for her and your child, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a little frustrating and exhausting.

The small requests were easy to handle. Whether it was making her a cup of coffee just the way she liked it, or moving a piece of furniture into a position she wanted it to be in; it was alright. It was the late-night requests that were rough.

Sometimes, when Wanda couldn’t seem to get rest, she would begin craving. She would get very specific about what kind of food and what place, in particular, she wanted it from.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother you all that much, but at 3AM? There was no one in the world who would be happy about that.

“Y/N?” You slowly gained consciousness, the sound of Wanda’s voice meeting your ears. You became aware of your shaking body, and begrudgingly opened your eyes.

The Sokovian was staring down at you, her hands halting their movements on your body as you looked at her in confusion.

“Wands? What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Your voice was laced with sleep as you sat up, attempting to rub the tiredness from your eyes.

“I really want some chicken from that one place we stopped by after our stakeout mission in Queens. Could you get it for me?”

You raised your eyebrows at your wife as she stared at you. “Seriously babe? It’s…” Your eyes moved toward the alarm clock on your bedside table, a bright red ‘3:15AM” shining back at you.

“3AM and that place is an hour away.” You continued as Wanda pouted sadly at you.

She gave you her best puppy dog eyes, knowing how easy it is to get you to comply. With a bat of her eyelashes, she had the ability to bend you to her will; and she took advantage of that fact.

“Please? My legs are cramping up again and I can’t sleep. I want that specific chicken because they season it really well.”

Wanda pleaded and you let out a reluctant sigh. You wordlessly stood up, already missing the warmth of the duvet.

The Sokovian smiled triumphantly as you threw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie before walking back over to her place on the bed.

“You’re so lucky that I love you.” You mumbled against her lips, kissing her quickly.

“I know I am. Now go, I want my chicken.” Wanda demanded and you playfully rolled your eyes.

Thankfully, the restaurant was open 24 hours or else you would have to deal with a very unhappy wife.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Week 30

Wanda’s baby bump was fully sticking out by this week. Your daughter had a mind of her own around week 20, kicking up a storm within your wife.

Yeah, a daughter. The two of you were ecstatic when your doctor performed Wanda’s mid-pregnancy ultrasound about two months back.

Although it was uncomfortable, Wanda didn’t seem to mind all too much.

She would rest her hands gently atop her stomach, anticipating the next little kick. Her eyes would light up when she’d feel the little thump against her hand, smiling brightly at you as you admired the Sokovian with a full heart.

That was one of the good portions of her pregnancy, but once the baby started kicking, they never seemed to stop.

Wanda’s sleep was constantly disrupted by kicking or the pressure your daughter would put on her bladder. Not to mention, her itchy hands and feet were of no help to her sleep schedule nor comfort.

Wanda was as uncomfortable in her skin as ever. Her back ached from the weight of her full baby bump. She had put on some weight which was completely normal. The Sokovian had become insecure about her body.

The extra weight was bittersweet to her.

On one hand, with each pound she gained, she was a step closer to meeting her child. On the other hand, she feared that you wouldn’t think she was beautiful anymore, which was absurd.

One afternoon, you were cleaning up the bedroom when a loud groan came from the connected bathroom. With a frown, you threw away the trash that had been scattered throughout the room and stalked toward the bathroom door.

You knocked softly on the door before opening it. Wanda was startled as you entered, staring at you sadly with a pair of sweatpants in hand.

She tried to cover her lower half with the clothing, only having a shirt and underwear on. It didn’t take a genius to realize the predicament your wife was in.

“Need some help?” You offered with a smile, reaching out to grab the clothing from her hand. Wanda took a step back as you did so.

“No. I’m fine. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a teasing grin on your face. “Honey, I’ve seen you naked at least a million times.” You teased, but your wife was unamused, glaring at you unhappily.

“Yeah, that was before I inflated like a balloon full of helium.” Wanda growled and you were taken aback by her harsh tone.

You frowned, not because you were offended, but because your wife was obviously upset about the weight associated with pregnancy.

You remained in place, staring at the Sokovian softly as she still covered her lower half with the grey sweatpants.

“Wanda, I love you for you. Your body is your least compelling feature.” You took a small step toward your wife and mentally cheered when she didn’t move backward.

“I fell in love with your mind, your heart, and most importantly; your soul.”

You now stood directly in front of her, placing your hands on the pair of sweatpants and gently pulling the clothing out of her grip. Wanda’s eyes never left yours as reassurances poured from your mouth.

“So, you can inflate like a balloon all you want because it won’t change the way I feel about you. You will always be my love.”

You ended off your small speech with a small smile which the redhead returned gratefully. When she didn’t move to speak, you decided to follow through with your action.

You got onto the floor on both knees, your eyes at level with her protruding abdomen which held your child. Wanda stared down at you curiously as you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach. Her heart fluttered at the feeling, an overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation taking her over.

“My girls. So beautiful.” You murmured, words coming out muffled as your lips pressed against her smooth, pale skin.

After a moment, you held the pair of sweatpants open and Wanda stepped into the leg holes. You quickly slid the fabric up to her waist, loosely tying the string before standing up.

Wanda grabbed you by the back of your neck as soon as you were fully up. Surprised, but not against it, you reciprocated the action.

You were positive that out of all the kisses you’ve shared with the woman, this was definitely the most passionate, by far.

You could feel the love seeping out of her with every movement of her lips, brushing softly but firmly against your own. You both pulled away, remembering that oxygen was a necessity.

Wanda smiled at you breathlessly while your hand came up to caress the smooth skin of her cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Week 40

It was the moment you and Wanda had been anxiously anticipating; the birth of your daughter.

Wanda’s water broke in the middle of the night. You were softly shaken awake by your wife in the middle of the night.

She was extremely calm as the words, “My water broke. We have to go now,” fell from her lips.

It took you a second to process what she had said, but when they registered in your brain, you shot up from the bed.

You frantically rounded the bed and helped Wanda stand, a huge wet spot present on the sheets of the bed. You steadily walked Wanda down the stairs, seeing as she rejected your offer to carry her.

“I’m pregnant, not incapable.”

So, once the both of you made it to the front door, you hastily grabbed the bag that you prepared for this exact circumstance. After getting into the car, you drove faster than you ever had before. Honestly, it was a miracle that you didn’t get pulled over.

The ride was filled with silence, save for the sharp intakes of breath your wife would take when a contraction would strike her abdomen.

“Y/N, I’d like to make it there alive.” Wanda spoke as you took a really sharp turn, the tires screeching as you continued speeding.

Finally, you’d made it to the hospital. The second you walked in with Wanda, nurses surrounded the two of you, helping the Sokovian into a wheelchair.

You followed behind nervously as you guys were led into a room. You informed the staff that your obstetrician was on her way to deliver your daughter.

After five hours of labor, it was time for Wanda to start pushing. The process of childbirth was no joke.

Each time the Sokovian would push, she would accidentally use her powers. The lights in the room flickered and carts rolled across the room as your wife screamed in pain.

You decided it was best for Wanda to hold onto your hand, which you immediately regretted.

Her grip was so tight you seriously thought she was going to break it. Not to mention, she wasn’t exactly your biggest fan right now.

“Fuck you, Y/N! Why did you think this was a good idea?” Wanda blamed you in her fit of pain.

You had to hold back a chuckle, knowing all too well that she was the one who suggested having a kid first. She was the one who convinced Stark to find a way for you two to conceive.

But you decided to remain silent, only uttering words of encouragement.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. You’re almost there.” You winced as your wife bruisingly squeezed your hand.

After a few more pushes, the sound of small wails filled the hospital room. You tore your eyes away from Wanda and your heart raced as you took in your daughter.

The nurses cleaned your daughter and checked everything they needed to. Thankfully, she was an extremely healthy newborn. Wanda’s eyes lit up as a nurse handed your child over.

The sight of your wife cradling your daughter in her arms was one you never wanted to forget.

“Hi, Aaliyah. I’m your mommy and that’s your mama. We have been so excited to meet you.”

Wanda’s voice was worn out from the intense screaming she had done just moments prior. Tears sprung to your eyes, mirroring the Sokovian’s.

The room cleared out, leaving the three of you some room for privacy. Wanda looked up at you, an exhausted smile on her face. You leaned down, kissing your wife lovingly before pulling back.

“We’re parents?” Wanda whispered, a combination of disbelief and bliss across her features. You nodded your head at her words, gently placing your hand on her cheek.

“We’re parents.” You confirmed, despite being in shock yourself, the good kind, of course.

Being a parent was no longer a fantasy to you and Wanda, but a reality. The path of pregnancy was a bumpy terrain, but it led to a beautiful field of love and possibilities.

Now, you would be the sole protectors of your daughter. It was your job to be there in whatever way your daughter needs, and you would do so without hesitation.

You couldn’t fathom your life at that juncture. You were married and had a child with a strong, intelligent woman who gifted you with a child.

You had a feeling that your daughter would turn out just like your other half; kind and giving.

Words couldn’t express how grateful you were. Your life had been filled with nothing but violence and pain, until it wasn’t.

Your life changed forever when your wife entered the picture, a much needed stroke of serendipity.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤNow, you had not one, but two loves of your life;ㅤㅤ Wanda Maximoff and Aaliyah Maximoff-L/N.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

taglist: @perfectromanoff @celestialcat44 @aliancvnas @marvelwomenslut @chaekhan @rvselie @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @prentisshoe @mcubreakdown101 @yeetus-thyself @multiyfandomgirl40 @007giu @weelight @scotts-orange-slices @puppy-danvers2016 @acertainredhead @jdougl-love @mindofwesley @lostandsearching @tquick99 @rachel146 @illloveyou @thewidowsghost @uraveragelonelygay @wandasgirlfriend @sapphic-stress @olicity-boo @iliketozoneout @suki-is-a-queen @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @olsensnpm @hagridsmomma @blurryylines @yeeterthekeeper @midnight-lestrange @maximoff-jp @tomatonugget @mrs-avenger3000 @wandadarlingg @wandanatblogs @simpfornatasharomanoff @whyisgamora777 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @grxvitye @hunka-hulka-burnin-fudge @clipreads @kathleenmikaelson

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x reader #request done

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

— genshin boys and how you take care of them when they’re sick.

ೃ ft. childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli, and xiao x gn! reader

ೃ tags: modern au, headcanons, and tooth-rotting fluff.

ೃ 200 to 300 words per character.

ೃ genshin masterlist ♡ mha masterlist ♡ aot masterlist

ೃ note: if you enjoyed this, please do reblog! and if you want to be a part of my taglist, answer this form! ♡

CHILDE:

Childe has a very strong immunity system. No lame flu could ever get him. Mayhaps it's the below 0-degree temperature in Snezhnaya that helped his body grow accustomed to certain climates and temperatures? Because according to him, he "takes colds and kicks ass." However, after having too much fun and getting too competitive with Scaramouche at the Dragonspine Ski Resort, he's struck down with a terrible fever. From Sneznaya's Greatest Love Machine to sick babie in (y/n)'s care. He's not necessarily the whiny type but Childe is very helpless. Whether it was intentional or not, he couldn’t help himself at all. He forgets about the cough drops he has to drink and you have to remind him about it, when he refuses to eat Goulash fresh from Dragonspine and demands for alphabet soup, or when you're doing work in the living room and he comes up to you wrapped in a burrito blanket, asking for cuddles because "hugs are the best medicine." to which, you would reply with a hard "no." because you couldn't risk the both of you getting sick. (Even though you were craving hugs from him too.) Due to your boyfriend's stubbornness, it took a week before he could fully recover. And when he did, you bet he rushes to you, screaming, "I'm cured!" peppering you with kisses on your cheek and enveloping you in hugs that you've longed so much from him.

DILUC:

Colds are Diluc's worst enemy. Whenever he got remotely sick when he was a kid, whether it be a runny nose or a small allergy, his immune system literally betrays him. So, when he gets sick, he literally gets sick. Since then, He vowed to maintain a healthy body. You've never even seen him get a headache! It's always been Diluc taking care of you whenever you’re down with a cold. You had always wished for a moment where the tables would turn and it would be you taking care of him for once. That would soon happen on a particularly normal day. Diluc approaches you and asks if you could check his temperature. You bring out a thermometer to check if he has a fever, and it read 38 degrees. Diluc suddenly panics. His face red as a tomato and feeling woozy and lightheaded, your boyfriend wraps his arm around you for support as you bring him to your bedroom. Then, he suddenly sneezes. An adorable sniffle you did not expect to hear from your boyfriend or from anyone as handsome as him at all. It was the cutest "achoo." you've ever heard. You giggle, reaching for his neatly folded pajamas in the closet and handing it to him. "Pretend you didn't hear that." He says coldly, trying to not act embarrassed. Since that night and until he became well, you barely left Diluc’s side. He's wrapped in a blanket, his usual well-dressed get up is replaced with a dark gray hoodie and joggers, your stuffed plushies are cuddled up beside Diluc to keep him company whilst he's bed-ridden, and you're bringing him healthy and delicious meals to help him get better soon. When he had finally recovered, Diluc thought that maybe getting sick wasn't all that bad. Especially if the the one most dearest to him could love and care for him so well while he’s at his weakest.

KAEYA:

Kaeya tries to hide his cold at first. He doesn't want to make you worry too much. After all, he's not the type to get so sick easily anyway. T'was the cursed downpour of rain on that particular Wednesday night after his evening classes to blame for all of this. When you're around him, he clears his throat every time he has the urge to cough, He tries to sneeze as quietly as possible so you wouldn't hear, and he takes his daily medicine for colds behind your back. It wasn't til you accidentally hear his loud coughs whilst he was on his phone when you realized that he had a cold for the past few days now. You were a bit sad at first because Kaeya shouldn't have hid this from you, and yet, you quickly understood when he told you why. Since then, you've been taking care of him. He would lie on your lap as you apply a fever patch on his forehead, massaging his temples, as he coos adoringly at your gestures of affection. In fact, he loved the special treatment that he was getting from you so much, that even if he was getting better, he still asked if you could rub his temples to ease the pain he's been feeling from his common colds. Although it is very clear that he's already free of his illness, you chose to play along with him. and so from then on, giving Kaeya a loving massage became a part of your daily routine, and he was loving every minute of it.

ZHONGLI:

As a herb and tea enthusiast, Zhongli is able to keep a healthy mind and body. Chamomile tea before the two of you go to bed and a scented humidifier wafting around your house to rid of the germs. However, after eating something he had ordered for the both of you on Postmates and not knowing there was seafood in it, his mild allergies suddenly strike him with a severe cold. Zhongli hates this feeling. He hates not being able to get up, water the plants, read his books, or stroll around the city with you. He had no physical energy to do anything. He kept your house as clean and as influenza-free as possible. Yet here was, on your shared bed, speaking in a nasally but cute voice, a glass of orange juice on the bedside table, and tuned in to the Discovery Channel because it was the closest he could get to the wonderful world around him whilst he was sick. "I miss hearing your soothing voice." You say jokingly, drying a hot towel so you can pat and place it on Zhongli's forehead. "I'm afraid I can't do anything right now, my love. I'm sorry. A-Actually... my body feels hot. I think I need to take a shower." Wearing a bathrobe or else he'd shiver and have his condition worsen, you help your boyfriend take a hot bath by washing his hair and help dry it right after. Zhongli wasn't the type of boyfriend to ask for these kinds of things, but it was such a sweet gesture. You gingerly wash his hair, spread shampoo around his auburn streaks and small upward curls, and massaging his head in the process. He hums in delight whilst you giggle at his utters of praise, leaving him once you're done with your deed. After a relaxing bath that had probably defeated the colds that was plaguing him, Zhongli is back on his feet the next day. Unfortunately, you were the next victim of this stupid flu and now, it was Zhongli's turn to take care of you and making sure you would get the love and treatment that you had given him.

XIAO:

Calling your boyfriend stubborn when he's sick is quite an understatement. As a very productive person, Xiao always sets a certain amount of things to do as his goal for the day. Going to the skate park, hanging out with you, playing sports, or playing video games were just many of the activities he would do in a span of a day. But, when he catches a cold after staying up too late (sleep is for the weak! According to the Vigilant Yaksha as the mad lad had stayed up till 7 AM) after getting too invested in playing Resident Evil Village, he comes down with a flu that same afternoon. And so, his usual routine of going to the skate park, hanging out with you, and playing video games were soon to be replaced with lounging in the bed, taking medicine, being reprimanded by (Y/N) for moving too much, and feeling like shit because he can't do anything at all. You will literally shoot daggers when you see your boyfriend dashing around because he's supposed to be in bed, getting all the rest he can get. You were very strict with him, simply because you had to. Xiao was very careless after all. You were cooking dinner that same night when Xiao comes up to you, resting his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering, "I can go to school with you tomorrow." "Xiao... no you won't. Go to back to bed. I'll bring you the Veggie Radish Soup there." You reply harshly, paying no attention to him at all. His tsundere tendencies were showing when you deliver the soup to him and he grumbles, "Y-you don't have to take care of me like this. It was my fault as to why I got sick in the first place. I can take care of myself, you know." You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing yet loving look. "I know that. But, I'm doing this because I love you. You're my freaking boyfriend for petesake! Why would I not care for you like this!?"

ೃ taglist: @mignonextte @inlovewithadeptusxiao @duhsies @qimiie @kozu-zumi @volleybloop

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

abshwvshsh imagine Paladin Danse with Baby Fever.

Got alittle drabble?

*I got like an idea where Paladin Danse and Alex(fallout oc) go on a mission and end up finding an orphan baby and as Alex is taking care of it, Paladin Danse is like 😍😍🤩🤩. So yea lol.*

(I totally deviated from the prompt but I was hoping this would be satisfactory as well? 😅 if not, I'm more than happy to write for the original prompt, just send me another ask)

Perhaps this feeling was simply a product of the desertion he felt after exile.

You were so very kind to him. You were there for him when he had hit the lowest point fathomable, when his life as he knew it was ripped away from him and left him with this deep melancholic emptiness. It took time, of course, but like always- you were patient with him, truly there for him.

If asked, Danse wouldn't know exactly how you did it, but piece after piece you managed to put back together what he once felt was broken beyond repair. Maybe it was the way you valiantly fought to reassure his life's value, maybe it was the long days you spent at his side so he may not feel lonesome, but most likely it was the love you professed that let him know that if someone as wonderful as you could have such profound feelings for something like him...then yes, maybe he was truly worth more than he believed.

Nonetheless, there were still some times that Danse would sit in your cozy little home, a far off look in his eyes as he thought deeply about something you just couldn't quite put your finger on. Once, you would've been able to just look at him and know what troubled him- a trait he didn't care for in the slightest- but lately...he wasn't quite as easy to read.

His identity would forever be something he struggled with no matter how much progress the two of you made, this you knew and understood, but whatever was on his mind as of recent didn't seem to have the same effect. For instance, these moments you'd catch him in..he wouldn't look nearly as tense, which may be a fruitless observation to note- but hey, every little detail meant something with Danse. In addition to this, the proud ex-paladin would usually seek your comfort if his mind raced to such dark places and now he would only sit in silence.

Instead you were left puzzled, watching the man you love sit and continue on with his mental strife- only moving every so often to fidget with the glistening metallic band on his left ring finger.

You never would've guessed that the reason he was so deep in though stemmed from the child sitting on your kitchen counter, eating one of Danse's prized snack cakes with Shaun. The child happened to be one of the settler's kids, a little girl around six years of age- so far too young to help out in the farm, and too young to leave unattended..so naturally, with you being the bleeding heart you are, you agreed to help out the girl's parents and watch her every so often while they worked. Besides, after your marriage to Danse..and Shaun coming home, there wasn't very much adventuring going on anymore. It wasn't a big deal though, Shaun rather liked having company (even if he preferred hanging out with Duncan more) and having a younger child around didn't bother you in the slightest.

Unbeknownst to you, watching the way you cared for the two children really struck a nerve within Danse. It was almost enchanting to watch you fuss after them, leading his mind to wander off to the most fantastical places.

"Okay, Shaun, do you think you can handle taking her back home? Her ma and pa should be finished working out in the field by now. I'll send Dogmeat with you." You spoke, receiving a rather exasperated expression from your little boy as he gracelessly slid off the counter, feet landing with a soft *thud*.

He proceeded to hold a hand out to his much shorter, younger friend to help her down. "No problem mom..." He all but grumbled as he began to lead her out the side door. A blur of brown and black fur at your feet let you know your faithful companion was at attention and ready to escort the two children- a happy bark followed by the closing of the door eased your mind shortly thereafter.

Had it been anywhere else, you probably wouldn't have let Shaun leave without you or Danse..but given that the girl's parents lived two doors down- you didn't really worry. However, you DID worry about the ex-paladin.

With a casual sigh, you sauntered your way into the living room- only a little surprised when you realized your entrance hadn't done much to catch his attention. Regardless, you pushed on and decided to sit right beside him- smiling just the slightest bit whenever his gaze finally shifted away from his wedding band and to you instead.

"Alright." You began, making no qualms about scotching closer over to him until he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "What's eating at you?" You simply prodded, head resting on his chest.

Danse visibly stiffened, as though under the impression that his silence went unnoticed. He couldn't have been more wrong- he knew better than to think anything would get passed you. Even if it had, the thrumming of his synthetic heart against your ear surely gave him away.

Before he dignified your question with a response, he shifted around so that he could properly face you- still holding you yet able to move his head in such a way that he might be able to see the way you'd react completely to what his next words were going to be. And…maybe to get your attention away from the heavy beating in his chest.

That's really when you noticed it. The fleeting look in his eyes, the unsteadiness of his breath, the slight pink shade decorating his nose and cheeks..Danse was nervous.

"This..I apologize but this going to seem completely out of the blue.." He finally spoke, sighing as he closed his eyes just for a brief moment- trying to collect himself so that his nerves might not get the best of him. This is a matter that he had been wrestling with for some time now, the last thing he wanted was to get so anxious that he couldn't speak.

Alas, calming down seemed to only get harder for him. True, it had only been a few seconds since he spoke but the way you looked at him, so concerned and so..sweet, made time slow down and his damned heart incomprehensibly race.

"Whatever it is Danse, I've got you.." Great- now that concern he picked up on was lacing your voice as well.

Was it truly necessary for him to complicate things to such extremes? It's not like the topic was completely alien to either one of you..and damnit, you're the one person he felt he could speak his mind freely to..so why wasn't this any easier?

Then came the words you never, ever, ever, would've expected to hear from his mouth.

With his eyes soft, and his voice even more so, Danse spoke. "I know we have Shaun, and don't get me wrong- I truly do love the boy as a son, my son...but have you ever considered what having a child of our own would be like?" It was in that instant that Danse realized how abrupt his words may have came out, that tender gaze of his slowly retreating to look anywhere but you. "Forgive me, it's um..it's selfish of me to anticipate you being ready for such a thing, especially considering what we have both went through this past year.."

Unable to focus on much else but the drumming noise inside your head from the profound beat of your heart, your trembling hands grabbed at his and squeezed.

"You know..you have a bad habit of cutting me off before I can tell you what I think, sir." You laughed, trying to distract from the tears threatening to well up. Sure, it may have been a slight over reaction but..with Danse wanting a family..it was one hell of a step in a good direction. "What happened in the past..well, it should stay there. The two of us have something most people never get, we have the ability to start anew and leave our troubles behind us, Danse. So...god, I don't think much else would make me happier than having a baby with you.."

Once the ex-Paladin got over the initial shock of your words, he all but mauled you in a breath-stealing kiss- his arms wrapping tightly around you to the point of making the promise of breath a distant memory. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but enthusiastically kiss the man back...at least until-

"MOM! Gross!!" Shaun shrieked, having opened the door at quite possibly the least opportune time. Great.

Danse pulled back with a shameful blush on his face, averting his eyes from the young boy who was now fake gagging as he walked off to his room.

“Guess we oughta see if Mac is up for letting Shaun stay over with Duncan..hm? You know, just to get a head start..” to this, the ex-paladin’s adorable blush deepened tenfold.

Fantastic....or rather...outstanding.

#so this was no small drabble #ayyyyy #I love him so much #fallout 4 #fallout #paladin danse #paladin danse x sosu #paladin danse x reader #Danse

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detectivehannibal · 3 years

Text

Pretty as a Picture

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of smut.

A/N: Why do I keep disappearing from this blog?? I’ve had this idea for FOREVER. Fun fact about me, I sometimes recycle my works from other blogs. So if you’re curious, this is from my Harry Potter blog @seriouslysnape and here’s the original work.

Word Count: 1,738

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.”

On the surface, surprises don’t really seem to come to mind when you think about Hannibal Lecter. The esteemed psychiatrist always came off to you as an open book. He was usually willing to share all aspects of his life with you, which naturally left you believing that there weren’t any secrets lurking further within himself.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Despite all the things that you didn’t know about Hannibal, you knew him well enough to know the sorts of things that he has a fancy for and the things he doesn’t. As high maintenance and temperamental as he is, he is shockingly easy to please. It’s a bit of an ironic statement, but still the truth nonetheless.

You could gift Hannibal with something as simple as a pair of socks or with something as extravagant as a brand new luxury suit, and he’d always have the same genuine, appreciative reaction. If something came from you, he would surely love it with his whole heart.

This gift, however, was on a whole new level.

The idea had honestly come to you at random when you were brainstorming birthday present possibilities. Even though he would never admit it, he was a bit bored of you buying him a new tie for every occasion. He had a tie for every color, pattern, and even he could ever dream of. You wanted to think outside of the box this time. You wanted to come up with something that he would never ever think of.

On the flip side, you also wanted to be sure that it was something that he could have for a long time and something that would have some real meaning to him. You could always go down the culinary appliance route, but he already had absolutely everything he’d ever possibly want or need. You were in a bit of a rut, but that’s when you got a wonderful thought.

Hannibal didn’t own many personal pictures. Most of the photos in his house were custom made art pieces that were worth more than the price of your left leg alone. Hannibal never struck you as the kind of man to have plethoras of pictures of loved ones, but you still found it odd. It’d be a win-win in your eyes. You’d supply Hannibal with some photos to hold on to, and it’d be a thoughtful gift.

Then your plan took a sultry turn.

You had picked out a large photo album that would match the aesthetic of his house, and an album that would have plenty of pages to fill up. You kept it stashed away in your closet until you were ready to put pictures inside of it when another idea came to mind.

What if you made a sexy photo album for him?

At first, you were a little sheepish at the idea. Boudoir style pictures showing off only the dirtiest of contents? It seemed like that might be too much and even a bit weird. The longer you thought about it, though, the more and more the idea sounded good. Maybe Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily jump at the gift, but at least he’d have something to jerk off to when you weren’t around.

You assembled as many outfits as you could, some coming from your personal collection and some were purchased as a specialty to the production of the photos. You’d need some help actually having the photos taken, which is why you recruited one of your closest friends.

You could’ve had them professionally done, but you weren’t sure how comfortable you were with a photographer and group of modeling experts studying over your naked body for an entire day. Your friend was stoked for the project and dedicated a whole afternoon while Hannibal was at work to help you out.

You took probably about a hundred pictures, all with varying poses, outfits, and locations around the house. You even took a few more innocent photos of you just smiling or doing candid things. You figured that you needed some sweet to balance out the spicy.

You decorated the pages to add some pop and flare, ultimately thrilled with the final product. Hannibal’s birthday was only a few days away, and you were itching to show him what you had made for him.

“You’re fidgety tonight.” Hannibal spoke from where he was laid out underneath you on the living room sofa.

It was true, you had been extremely jittery for the last hour and a half, trying to compose yourself. Hannibal had told you that he had wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening in for his birthday, which you found as a blessing because he’d definitely want to stay around the house after seeing his gift.

“Sorry. Just excited.” You admitted, seeing this as the perfect opportunity.

He raised a brow, looking down at your frame that was practically trembling with explosive animation.

“I feel as if I don’t need to inform you that my birthday comes around every year,” He joked; “What’s gotten you so elated?”

You smiled up at him with a brightness that was almost blinding. You scrambled off of the sofa at your cue.

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” You announced as you dashed up the stairs.

Hannibal chuckled to himself, already guessing as to what you were plotting. You returned shortly after with the picture book in hand, complete with a bow on top. You sat with your legs crossed in front of him, eagerly handing it to him.

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.” You explained.

Hannibal sat up from where he was settled into the cushions, eyeing over the cover carefully. It was a beautifully crafted book, the dark leather was absolutely gorgeous. He pushed the bow off of the sides, opening to the very first page to see a sweet note you had written him, signed with your signature and all. He turned to the first page to actually contain photos on it, and a smile of pure joy spread on his face.

You had put all of the non-sexual pictures in the first two pages to disguise the actual reason for the book. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different casual outfits and in different places.

“Darling, these are wonderful,” He complimented; “They’re stunning, they-”

His heartbeat quickened when he made it to the third page, and he noticed they had taken on a new theme. The scandalous photos were enough to knock him speechless. For the first time ever, you saw Hannibal’s cheeks break out into a deep blush. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing one of his white work shirts with all the buttons undone. The only thing you were wearing underneath was one of his ties settled between your breasts.

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, red colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and you went back to your original worry that this was a bad idea. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling, because Hannibal Lecter always had something to say.

Your voice was thick with uncertainty as you spoke to break the silence.

“Hannibal, do you...like them?” You wondered aloud.

His eyes never steered clear from the book in his hands and the photos presented in front of him. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on the massive kitchen counter and giving a look so seductive that it made his belly flutter. The sight of you naked in his culinary world where he spent so much time was a sight to behold.

“[Y/N], I love them. These photographs...they’re beautiful, well produced, and so, so sexy.” He breathed out.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of anticipation as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, his hot blush growing even deeper onto his cheeks. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming dirtier than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

His lips parted slightly ajar as he loomed over them. Your waiting was patient as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. Your suspicions had been correct after all.

He was going to rock your world.

Hannibal usually didn’t try to make the first move. He always wanted you to initiate sex first. He believed that sex was a passionate, romantic connection that shouldn’t always be fueled by burning want and desire from outside resources. Based on the way he was looking at you though, you could tell that he wanted you BADLY.

He nonchalantly rolled his hips forward to create some kind of friction. The sneaky grin on your face was almost maddening. The way that your body leaned in and your lips brushed over his just ever so was intoxicating. Your lips traveled to his ear as you purposefully let out a wanton moan to tantalize him.

“Touch me, Hanni. I know you want to.” You coaxed.

That was all he needed.

Hannibal lunged forward, smothering your body with his and suffocating you with hot kisses. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you.

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those outfits under this sweater?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. When Hannibal didn’t want you to go anywhere, then you wouldn’t. You bit down on your lip in a seductive way, breathing out your response to send him into full on love making mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter x reader imagine #detectivehannibal

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years

Text

teddy bear

fred weasley x reader

—author’s note: I really have no explanation for this except that I saw an old fic of mine and the idea just struck. This is a re-imagined version of 'don't say goodbye' from my main i.e. @with-love-anu Fred had been spending lesser and lesser time with you every day and you couldn't take it anymore.

—warning(s): mentions of food and drinks, break up, angst but it's hurt and comfort, low-key descriptions of anxiety attack. gender neutral!reader (pronouns haven't been used throughout the story)

—wordcount: 2,190

The fire crackled orange and gold, painting the dark walls. You were sitting right beside the mantle looking at the wall ticking. It was 11:35pm. Fred should’ve been home hours ago.

Tilting your head, you ran your thumb through the sharp edge’s of the photo frame. Friendly— happy faces smiled back at you. It was you and Fred from your 6th year. He had an arm around you, kissing your cheek before winking at the camera. Oh you remembered that day. Vividly. The two of you had just started dating after months of pining. Fred had been an absolute sweetheart. One date led to the next and you didn’t realise you two had spent years together. From graduating from hogwarts, to working your way up on your jobs, moving in together… You were madly in love and nothing else seemed to have mattered.

Everything looked great. Looked. Your parents often told you about ichs. A common rash. Ignore it and it will go away. Scratch it, and it will make your life hell. They never told you however, how long it takes. And you had been shutting your eyes to this one far too long. Fred was never there. Never. Both of you had jobs. Demanding jobs. Yet it seemed Fred was the only one without a moment to spare.

Your morning began with you getting up and ready for your day. Freshening up, making breakfast for the two of you— storing Fred’s with a quick warming spell and a note because you knew you’ll be gone by the time he woke up. Never having the heart to rouse him you simply smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, apprating to the ministry. When you came back, he would still be at the shop, working late into the night. Exhaustion caught you, you were unable to keep yourself from falling asleep after 12.

Heaving a sigh, you pushed your head back staring at the ceiling above. The thing was that you missed him. Terribly. You couldn’t even remember the time he held you, let alone ask about your day— it had been months. There had been a hundred times, sitting alone having dinner or seeing his side of the bed empty. Loneliness caught with you reminisened all the times he would pull you over his lap, pressing kisses all over your face. Telling you about the newest invention at his shop. All confrontations with him about the same had ended the same way. With him promising he would try. He never did.

Glancing at the clock again, you felt your body grow hot with anger. It was nearly midnight. You had left him a note to come home early that day. Promotion at work had flashed like the perfect occasion to catch up. Happiness had been bubbling through you all day. Although as time passed, your excitement dulled. The food turned cold and ice in the firewhiskey bucket had melted. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt your stomach churn. There was a pop as the door opened to reveal a disheveled Fred. He gave you a small smile before moving straight towards the bedroom.

“Fred,” you called out, clearing your throat and wiping away the tears. Did he really not notice? “Did you get my note?”

“Hmm?” he said, shuffling through his drawer. “Oh! Yes I did, sorry but work came up love, couldn’t make it.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Work?” you asked, agitated. “What work keeps you out until midnight Fred?”

His answering sigh infuriated you further.

“You need to change your work schedule, Fred,” you said, crossing your arms. “George comes back to Angelina before 8. I’m sure you can manage before 9. I don't see you Fred. I don't get to talk to you or spend a moment with you. It's like I'm living alone— I spent more time with you before we moved in!”

Fred squeezed his eyes shut, tired.

“I’ll try, I promise,” he said after a minute. “Let’s eat first, shall we?”

“No, Fred. You promise me that every time,” you hissed. “I want you to tell me you’ll be home tomorrow before 9. Like a normal person.”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Fred snapped. “I thought you would be more supportive of me and my business.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you threatened. “I’ve been there for you every step of the way. What I am asking you is for you to take out some time for me. I need you to be there for me too!”

“Well excuse me for wanting to earn enough money for our future. For wishing you didn’t have to work to live a happy life.”

“Fred,” you said, your voice a dangerous whisper. “You know exactly how much I love my job. I’ve always been happy working. What has gotten into you? You were always so supportive of me!”

Something crossed Fred’s eye and he took a step back, shaking himself. He took a deep breath.

“Listen,” Fred said calmly. “It’s late now, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“When, Fred? When? In the morning, when you are asleep or at night which is the time right now?”

Fred remained silent. It felt like you were bursting. All the frustration, sadness and disappointment poured in.

“It hurts, Fred. It hurts and it feels like I’m alone in this. People ask me how we are doing and I don’t know what to tell them. I have no idea what’s going on with the person I live with. I don’t even know where our relationship is goin—”

“You know what?” Fred said, finally losing his cool, throwing his hands in the air. “If you feel so alone, maybe you wouldn’t find a difference if we even separate.”

You gasped.

“I’m going to give you a moment to take that back,” you hushed. Fred crossed his arms. “Think about it before telling me you meant it.”

“Listen, you know I put my work above anything else,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I’ve always wanted to be rich enough so people like Malfoy wouldn’t dare to insult me or my family. That shop. It’s my life. It’s everything that lets me afford the things I never could.”

“So the shop’s more important to you than having me stay?” you said, your throat heavy. Digging your nails into the palm of your hand you searched Fred’s face. The face you had fallen in love with, the one that didn’t quite meet your eyes now which forebode tears. No you couldn’t cry now. Not when he disregarded your job you had been so passionate about, not when his status in life was more important to him. When Fred didn’t say anything, you let out a dry laugh. Shaking your head you moved towards your wardrobe, your head thumping. You took out a couple of your clothes, money and some documents, packing up a bag. Fred stared at you wide eyed as you went for the door.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as you opened the door moving out.

“Well, since you don’t care if we separate and your shop is the only thing you’re living for; it only seems fair that I leave,” you said, furiously rubbing away the tear that fell down your cheek. “Oh and Weasley? I hope you become the wealthiest wizard in the country.”

The last thing you saw was Fred’s shook form before a familiar house came into view. Knocking on your best friend’s door, you wondered whether you should have taken a hotel. It was very late after all. Before you could turn back and leave, Ruhaan opened up. He looked sleepy but his expression changed on seeing you.

“Hey, are you alright? What’s the—”

“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted. “I’ll crash on the couch... ”

Ruhaan wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leading you in.

“Of course you can,” he said as your throat felt heavy. “You’re always welcome here, what happened?”

“I… we broke up,” you croaked. Admitting things aloud often made things real. Stating your breakup to Ruhaan made you really assess the situation. Blood rushed to your head as you realised you really just left back someone you had loved for six long years. Still did. Your legs wobbled making you lose your balance but Ruhaan held you steady.

“I can’t believe it… I… love him…” you gulped.

“Let me first get you some tea,” he said, rubbing your sides.

-♡♡♡-

Fred was a mess. He fell on the floor with a thump, realising what happened moments ago. You left. The person he had loved all his life had left him. And it was his fault. All those months he had been trying to get the latest product to work. George had given up on it long ago knowing well how dangerous it was to work on. Yet he stood back, working extra hours determined to get it done. It made him lose sight of what was important, you. His heart constricted as he felt like he couldn’t breath. Hot tears fell down his cheeks as he let out a frustrated shout. He had finally lost everything.

For the next few days, Fred worked as an auto pilot. Numbness had caught up to him. He couldn’t bring himself to eat or sleep. Your thoughts plagued him. It was like he was watching your face fall as you moved out over and over again. The apartment felt devoid of spirit— dark and cold. Fred missed you, your smile as he sleepily joined you in bed, pulling you closer; your notes with little doodles telling him to take care… George vaguely knew about what happened, he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. Visits to your best friend’s place have always gone the same. Ruhaan told him you weren’t there.

Fred wanted— needed you. He loved you. Always did. And he would be damned if he failed to show you. Again. Washing his face, he apparated to Ruhaan’s door again. Biting the inside of his cheek, he waited as a familiar face came into view sighing on spotting him.

“Fred,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve told you…”

“Please,” he said, cutting him off. “Please, I know what I’ve done. Terrible won’t start to describe it. Just give me a chance to talk. I won’t push. I won’t. I am really ashamed of the things I did. At least let me make it right…”

Ruhaan searched his face, mentally debating with himself. Fred was pleading, begging. He would do anything to make this right.

“Alright, don’t screw this up,” Ruhaan said, ushering him in directing him towards your room. “The first door on the right.”

Fred nodded, moving briskly to where he indicated. Heart pounding, he knocked. Your voice came throaty, calling him in. When he saw you, his breath caught up. You looked terrible. Dark circles under red puffy eyes, nestled up in blankets. Noticing him, you sat up straighter.

“I told Ruhaan I didn’t want to see you,” you muttered. Fred moved to sit beside you. You looked away.

“I…” he began, not finding the correct words. “I brought this for you…”

He fished out a small box out of his pocket, handing it to you. It transformed into a teddy bear as the pack touched you, splaying itself over your hand like a rock. You narrowed your eyes at Fred.

“I’ve been working on this in secret for the last six months,” he rasped. “A teddy bear for blue days. The more I worked on it, the stiffer it became. I could not imagine what exactly I was doing wrong. I tried charming it, transforming it, twisting and twerking it around...”

“Fred,” you said, cutting him off. He blinked as streaks of heavy tears fell down his cheek.

“I was so fucking angry and determined to make it work that I couldn’t see anything else than that,” he sobbed. “I’ve said and done things that I couldn’t forgive myself for. I’ve made promises I never followed and I’ve let you go. I… I know that there is no reason for you to even hear me out right now. But I can’t lose you. I can’t… I can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to have you back but I don’t want to say goodbye to the best thing in my life. Please. You don’t have to excuse me but give me one opportunity to make it up to you.”

You inhaled sharply.

“You’ll come home before 9?” you asked.

“At seven everyday.”

“You’ll spare time for me?”

“Dates every other weekend.”

“You’ll cook everything for the next 3 weeks?” you said as Fred let out a breathy chuckle.

“Only your favourites.”

You looked at his face, wet from crying. Eyes praying for your answer.

“You’ll kiss me right now?” you said as a dull surprise crossed his face. He cradled your face, kissing you softly. You closed your eyes, body relaxing for the first time in days.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice low. You held his hand, squeezing it.

“I know.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred x reader #fred x you #fred x y/n #from anu's quill #hp #harry potter #george weasley

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babytaes · 3 years

Text

afterglow

➳ summary: You, too, lived in a colorless world, trying to connect with it. How long would you have to wait for that one to brighten it up and let you see the real world?

❥ pairing: wonwoo x female reader

❥ genre: angst, fluff, kinda soulmate au.....?

❥ word count: 7k (sorry, mans is my bias and I had to ;)

❥ warning: mentions of death.

➳ part of the song series

↳ Imagine a world like that,

We go like up 'til I'm 'sleep on your chest

Love how my face fits so good in your neck

You had a twin brother who was everything to you. Everything was always you two, from the endless amounts of laughter to the sneaky efforts to take Christmas cookies early in the morning.

With him, everything seems to be so colorful; in your lifetime, everyone was given a companion who may be a friend, sibling, or lover. It was simply something that you treasured. As a result, the alternatives were numerous.

You had no idea how much his life meant to you. He was your second half, and now you'd been split in half, with one gone and the other remaining.

Months passed, and your relationship with him became increasingly dimmer and dimmer. The brilliant hues faded in and out, with black and white patches becoming more prominent.

That awful day, unfortunately, was the last time you saw color. His light had faded from the world, and all that was left was black and white.

With him gone, your entire life seemed pointless, even your day-to-day existence. No splash of color to brighten things up.

“Y/N, I'll never forget you, big sister. Thank you for the enjoyable and considerate memories, and don't let this stunt your growth, please do that for me. As the beeper went off, he began to cough incessantly.

“Helpppp anyone.” As your parents draw you back into their arms, you hear many doctors rush into the room.

There was nothing they could do; his hue had vanished from this world. When you opened your tear-streaked eyes and examined your hands, you noticed that the formerly vivid cream palms had turned gray.

As if all colors were abruptly bleached out of the world, revealing a universe of whiteness—the rainbow, flowers, trees, and art, everything freshly bleached and pearled. The last vestige of color had vanished from your life, and you had been broken since then, heartbroken over the loss of your dearest friend.

“Y/n, hey you're good, we could use your help.” As you glanced to the side, you noticed that one of your employees had just spilled some water from the mop bucket.

As you approach their side, you assist them in mopping up the mess while sweeping aimlessly across the floor, making sure to get every spot. Due to your new life of no color it reflected on your life emotionally.

As the days passed, you became increasingly depressed and unmotivated. There wasn't a single day when you didn't feel mopey or lonely. It wasn't like anyone could help me; it was just the challenge of living a life without color.

Although you sincerely desired to overcome this phase of your life and simply find the right person to fill that void, life did not work in your favor at the time. Everyone around you seemed to be looking for or had already found their "person."

All you wanted was to find the person who could restore your hope and love, which had been taken away when your brother died. Your parents did everything they could to assist you, including setting you up on strange and ineffective dates that just added to your unhappiness.

Nobody could replace that color that your brother provided for you, or maybe someone could?

"I'm off," you remarked as you pulled off your apron and clocked out in the back. As you stepped out the door, you heard a flurry of goodbyes before closing it behind you.

The world never shifted when the clock struck five.

As you strolled down the crowded streets, the sky before and above you remained grey, never letting up that cloak of shade. A melodious music gradually pours into your ears as you go down the bustling sidewalk.

You follow the dazzling yet tranquil sound of the guitar aimlessly as you imagine music notes flying through the fall air. You cautiously open your tired eyes and spot the crowd to figure out where these tunes are coming from.

Looking up, you spotted a swarm encircling a male, but you couldn't tell who it was. However, it was the music that drew you in; you'd heard that melody before. Even if you weren't musically inclined, you could hear that tune anywhere.

It was his, the one he wrote for you.

You dashed outside to see your brother strumming a tune on the grass with his guitar. Your brother possessed a talent for music. It is a condition that many people are born with, and you were fortunate that your brother was one of them.

He didn't go a day without making up or humming something he'd learned. It was frustrating to hear it every day, but it was still lovely to witness his enthusiasm for it.

“Hey, what are you cooking up this time?” As he began to strum the guitar, he turned around and grinned at you. You couldn't understand what he was mumbling, but it sounded lovely as his fingers casually slid across the strings.

“I don't have the lyrics yet, but I'm sure they'll come. You laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“Just don’t go play at 3 in the morning. Okay?”

“It's not my fault that's typically when the inspiration comes,” he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

As you raced away from him, you swiftly took his guitar, saying, "Well, I guess that inspiration will have to wait." He leapt from his seat and dashed towards you, yelling your name.

You had no idea that would be his final song; you regret not listening to the finished product; you never knew if he finished it. However, when you got closer to the enticing sound, you observed a young man strumming a guitar, and your ears perked up.

A slender man with long fingers and a quirky side smile, perhaps a musician, delicately touched a golden acoustic guitar, playing her ever so elegantly. You stand there, enthralled by the song, as his hands strum and tug the steel strings of the guitar. You take a cautious step closer to him in order to get a better look.

Allowing the music to take control of your body, you take a deep breath and allow an ounce of hope to creep in. From miles away, the formerly lovely and alive girl could be seen racing to you as you opened your arms to her.

You tried desperately to reach her before she vanished into thin air. The glint had disappeared. As you slowly open your eyes, you notice the man stop playing and gazes up at the audience.

As a smile crept across your face, the edges of your lips began to curl up. You'd forgotten what a smile looked like; you hadn't seen one in a long time, and it just felt natural. Even though he was gone, you could sense his presence. As you began to back away from the mob, tears began to flow freely from your eyes.

As you faded from his view and moved away from the crowd, the boy cast a peek at you. You swear you saw a glimpse of color rushing through your orbs, even if it was just for a split second. You couldn't tell if this was a joke or a new experience for you because you were more terrified than excited.

Could you trust that vision? Would they leave your life like he once did or would they stay? (IT)

Although you wanted to stay and figure it out you had somewhere to be and you didn’t want anyone to waste that special time.

(1 hour later)

Opening the rusted gate and looking at the wrought iron fences sends shivers down your spine as you are whisked back to that tragic day.

As you headed towards the pit, a crack formed in your heart. As they lowered his casket into the black abyss, the steady steps of feet carried it there. Countless shadowy figures form a procession, speaking in unison to pay their respects to the one you cherish. Your inner essence is corrupted by despair, and your heart bleeds like a river inside. Nothing could ever make you feel better.

As they began to fill the hole with dirt, tears welled up in your eyes, prompting you to lower your head. He didn't want you to be sad; he knew his time was coming to an end, yet he felt so safe in his final days.

He wasn't going to abandon you; he'd promised you that he'd left you something to aid you along the path. Even if that were the case, you never discovered it after four years. You rummaged through his room and tore it apart.

You quickly recognized that he was either joking or that the drug had taken effect in his brain and he was talking gibberish. In any case, you made a pledge to visit his grave every day from that day forward to keep him company and to keep yourself sane.

---

Clutching onto your bag, the leaves crunched beneath your feet as you peered about. You see specks of people strewn throughout the cemetery as you hear some speak in low whispers. It didn't take you long to find his gravestone.

You noticed the dead flowers drooping over as you took them out of their vase beside the tomb. Replacing them always brought joy to your heart as the sight of a fresh bouquet of flowers brightened the somber ambiance, which contrasted with the mold-infested tomb.

Taking out your cleaning supplies and speaker, you start working on his tomb while listening to his favorite music. As you hummed along with the song, your soft-bristle brush softly scrubbed the headstone in an orbital motion from bottom to top, carefully avoiding the fissures.

As you finished the soap, you began to rinse the stone as dirt and debris began to fall off the tomb. Although you couldn't determine if everything was off, you could plainly see the phrases and symbols, which was a good hint to stop cleaning everything off.

You wanted to do more for him and not leave any dirt on the surface. But because everything was gray, you couldn't tell, which made you sulk as you put down your brush. As you check the clock on your phone, you exhale a sigh of relief.

7:23p.m

Looking around, you noticed the stragglers had dispersed, leaving you alone as you gazed up at the sky.

“I hope the sunset looks beautiful today, I do miss it.”

The late evening sunset was the one thing you missed more than your brother; you had always admired how everything just flowed and fit together in the evening sky. It's almost as if someone began painting and simply let their hand float through the air.

As you turned to face his tomb, another smile appeared on your face, prompting you to go into your bag for something. As you placed down a cup for you and him, you chuckled at the bottle revealed beneath the sky.

“Lucas, here's to another day. It's been difficult in recent years, but today was a good day. I sensed your presence through the music of some random person; it was strange, but I'm glad I was there to see it. So thank you,” you say, raising your shot glass in the air and taking a sip.

As you heard a voice, you wiped a stray tear from your face.

“I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“Shit, what the hell,” you cursed the dark figure, startled and terrified. Who is there? As you squint your eyes at him, a male emerges from the shadows.

It's him.

----

You cough as you stand up and face the nameless man, he extends his hand as his glasses slide down his narrow nose, “Hi I’m Wonwoo.”

You take his hand in yours and shake it slowly, his grip firm until you let go.

“Hi..wonwoo? “I'm Y/n.” As the boy grinned at you, your voice was barely audible.

He takes a careful step alongside you and sits down close to your brother's grave, placing a case beside him. As you enlarged your eyes and sat down next to him, still observing him, the atmosphere felt reassuring but strange.

“I apologize for startling you; I didn't know that you were there. I’m not sure if your brother mentioned me but I was his friend, we used to write songs together.” As he turned to face you, you noticed the tall man attempting to cross his legs.

You shook your head as you began to gather your belongings, unsure of who this man was. For all you knew, he may be lying to you, so you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You rose up and began walking away after securing the zipper on your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. I can come back another time. I am truly sorry if I interrupted anything."

“No, it's fine,” you say with a shake of your head and outstretched hands.

“Are you sure?”

You walk away again, nodding your head as you hear his voice and a familiar tune.

You came to a halt in your tracks as you slowly turned around to face the boy after hearing a faint melody. As your ears perked up, you heard a low voice.

‘I stand still before you before me. I’m okay, not okay..” The lyrics faded out as you started to find your bearings again as you made your way out of the cemetery. As you stepped toward the road, you strapped your bag on, making sure you had everything you needed.

A girl out on a walk is something you can see every day, yet you were unique. You walked as if you and the road had reached an agreement, as if the concrete was more than eager to support your feet.

The road understood you.

*Ping*

The light of your phone lit up as you clicked on the message.

Mom: Hey sweetie, I dropped off some food at your apartment and did some tidying up. Get home safety.

You: Thanks mom.

Her message brought back memories of days when you and her would cook together and simply bond over the end result. You missed it. Because you live in different places, you don't get to see your parents very frequently, yet they always made time for you.

I wish you could do the same; home is just too much for you to stomach, and you'd rather avoid it.

You reach the corner street after a few more steps, ready to begin your one-mile trek home. As you look back after exhaling a sigh, you hear rumbling on your feet. An automobile approached you, its bright headlights blazing directly at you.

You shifted to the side, squinting your eyes at the sight, and wonwoo greeted you again before you realized it. He grinned at you with his dazzling whites as he bent his head down.

what is with this guy?

Hey, hop in, I'll give you a ride. It's becoming late, and I don't want you walking through here.” As you took a step back, wary of the stranger, he moved his hand closer to you.

“Um.. No-no I’m okay. However, thank you.” As you heard his engine trailing behind you, you began to walk faster. He followed you for a few seconds longer before you came to a complete halt and stared at him.

Through the windshield, you could see him smirk as he waved his hand to you.

“It'll be a lot faster, and if you're worried I'll kidnap you or anything, don't fret. I'm allergic to cats, and I'm a cat person myself. As a result, I assure you that I will not harm you. I just wanted to help a friend.” You moved over to his car, smiled a little, and hopped in, securing yourself with your seatbelt.

“If you do anything I have some bleach and I’m not afraid to use it,” he chuckled at you as he started the car and proceeded to exit the cemetery.

“You’re funny.”

As you gave wonwoo your address he proceeded to drive out of the rural neighborhood as you put your head on the window. You didn't realize it at the time, but you could feel his penetrating glances.

The car was quiet as the low sounds of music vibrated through the car. When you weren't driving, car journeys were the best since they enabled your mind to fantasize and paint over the enormous landscape you were seeing. That haven you built in your imagination calms you and makes you feel protected. The place where you may get away from reality.

As soon as your eyes close for the night, you hear him humming a familiar tune. Rather than remaining silent, you begin a conversation with him, inquiring as to how he learned the song.

“So how did you meet Lucas?” As he laughed, he cast a peek at you.

“Well, I met him at a college party a long time ago and discovered he makes music, so we used to meet up at a friend's studio and just create.” You lightly chuckled as a tear fell down your face as you nodded your head.

It was good to hear other people talk about your other half; it was almost as if he was there with you right now.

You were worried when he gave you brief glances since his eyes were off the road, but as he spoke, you felt protected because he spoke highly of your brother.

“Well, I'm not sure if he mentioned you, but the last song we were working on was one he wrote for you, and he said it was a gift.” As you turned to face him after hearing that final statement, your eyes widened.

“He—he said those exact words, a gift?”

As he rounded the corner and approached your apartment complex building, he shook his head. You could see his shoulder resting on the window sill as he put the car in park.

You hesitantly walk out of the car, stuttering as you gather your belongings, and turn to face him.

“Thank you for the ride; did Lucas mention anything else about the song?” “He wasn't quite finished with it, but he did give me and my other friend some crucial stuff to get it done,” he said as you pressed your face closer to the window.

Your heart began to race as you realized that things were beginning to turn around for you; perhaps this wonwoo boy was destined to be in your life. Lucas' way of demonstrating that he took great care of you.

“Would you like to work on it together sometime?”

Inside, it felt as if the creatures were finally waking up from their rehabilitation and making their way into the real world. Even if it took a while, this new form of relief made you feel alive again. You were adamant about working more to reclaim your color.

In some way, wonwoo was the key to it all.

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” you answered, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you handed him your phone. “Just let me know when you're free.”

Wonwoo returned your phone to you, which you joyfully accepted and placed in your pocket. As you walked to your door, you waved your hand at him and cried out to him one final time.

“Thank you”

“For what?” As you entered the flat and locked the door behind you, you waved your hand at him. You let out a sigh and shake your head as you slid down to the floor.

“What a day”

---

(4 weeks later)

It seemed like you and wonwoo had entered a very unique connection in the last few weeks. He made every effort not to cross any boundaries, both physically and emotionally. Regardless of the fact that you were his closest friend's sister, he was always respectful to you.

Even if that is what he sees from his perspective, you felt more alive when you were with him. Although you could still see gray and couldn't bask in all of his glory, it gave you hope that one day, whenever that time came, you'd be able to see him and everything else.

That was something you lacked previously: hope. Everyone around you including your parents could see a significant change in your life.

“Hey, honey, how's it going at work?” Before taking your purse, your mother kissed your cheek and opened the door for you.

As you met her at your old house, a smile emerged on your face. It was your first visit home in a while, and seeing you there brought joy to their hearts, despite the difficult years you've had.

“Everything has been going well, and I just wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. I miss seeing you and dad.”

“Is that my beautiful daughter, am I seeing things right?” your father exclaimed as he emerged from the back. As a tear trickled down your cheek, you watched as he raced over to you and hugged you.

As he stared at your face and admired it, the hue in front of you remained gray.

“Such lovely brown eyes," It pained your soul that you couldn't remember what they looked like since gray dulled everything and made you forget.

“Thank you, dad, but instead of fawning me, let's play some games. Just because life is bleak doesn't mean I can't be your ass at Monopoly.”

Your mother, gasping at your remark, watched from the back, her eyes welling up with tears as she marveled at a sight she hadn't seen in a long time.

“Moooom, don't start sobbing or dad will start crying,” you said as you turned around.

She comes over to your side and wraps you and your father in a hug, sandwiching you between them. It felt good because you were missing these times with your folks. You couldn't stay at home when your brother died; you had to leave and get away. Everything was just too much for you as things started to remind you of him.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I'm really proud of you for coming here and having the confidence to do so. I understand how difficult it must be for you, but thank you.” Through the loud sniffles between you all, you started to feel warm as you wiped your tears.

“All right, no more crying; let's get down to business.” You dashed over to the couch and snatched up Monopoly from the board game box, motioning for them to join you. They chuckled as you began to pull everything out as they made their way over.

As loud yells and laughter echoed out throughout the home, the night was fresh and enjoyable. There were times when you were terrified you'd lose, but you couldn't let your champion status lapse.

Your mother said, "Noo, you're cheating."

“No, I'm not; there's a house there, and you need to pay up or I'll put you in jail.” Between the two, your father snickers and keeps his mouth shut. He was well aware of the rules.

“All right, but that wasn't there before.”

With a chuckle, you shook your head and held out your hand, saying, "excuses excuses."

As you turned off your alarm, it rang at 8:00 p.m. You wouldn't have realized the difference between night and day if it hadn't been for alarm clocks. You jumped up in triumph after placing one more piece on the board.

“And that's why I remain Monopoly's ruler.”

You witnessed your parents give up as they lifted their hands in surrender. They both remark, "Fine, you win," as they begin to clean up the mess. Taking the stray cups and bowls from the tables you set them in the sink as you turned to watch your parents.

It's been a long time since you've been back here, and you've certainly missed the atmosphere. Lucas wouldn't want me to miss out on this opportunity.

“Why don't I come on weekends and bring back board game nights?” As your parents turned back, you uttered, "Next time, I'll bring a friend."

“Oh, it would be wonderful; the more the better.”

As you walked back over to them, you hugged them as they kissed your head.

“You go, we'll take care of this; the drive back is long,” your father remarked as he took your bag and handed it to you.

“Thank you guys, and I love you and the night we just had.” As you approached the door, you waved goodbye before closing it.

“No thank you, love,” your mother said as she and your father watched you leave the home and get into your car.

After one last look at the house, you back out of the driveway and go down the street, looking forward to the day ahead.

Studio day!

You yawn as your body startles you up after taking a deep breath of fresh air. As you slowly open your eyes and look out the window, you breathe a sigh of relief. Something felt different. The chirping of the birds outside made you feel cheerful, not sad.

As your vision remained a little lighter, you began to blink your eyes faster. It wasn't your typical gray morning, and you thought it was growing lighter. The gray was gradually dissipating. You grinned as you considered your color returning.

What prompted this?

It didn't matter because today was dedicated to finishing your song; you, wonwoo, and his friend Mingyu had completed all but the title. You stretch one more time before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you get to the mirror, you take a look at yourself. The person in front of you had radically transformed; she had forgotten about her flaws and insecurities, and her heart now held more love. This woman didn't pick apart everything that was wrong with her; instead, she supported herself.

She was unrecognizable, and the old girl in the mirror was finally slipping away. You began to smile more frequently and laugh a little more, and the air around you became warmer rather than frigid. Someone's love had seeped into her heart and begun to unfreeze its hardness.

And that person was wonwoo, which you didn't realize until you looked in the mirror. If you've observed it, chances are that others have as well. And you were grateful for his help in getting you out of that gloomy situation. You were able to regain your trust and begin letting people in again, which made you pleased.

Lucas would be incredibly proud of you, and you didn't want to disappoint him again. You intended to honor his memory and keep him alive in your heart, rather than allowing the past to plague you and prevent you from living your life.

He would have wanted that.

As you stepped inside, you turned on the shower and stripped off your clothing. You had to find a method to repay wonwoo for his compassion. You would not have gotten this far without him and his musical gift, and you were grateful for him.

"I could take him to our place," you offer as you turn off the water and grab a towel from the shower.

“Yeah he would like that.”

----

Work seemed to fly by as your mind raced at a hundred miles per hour. You had everything planned out and had recruited the support of your parents to help you set up.

Your manager tapped your shoulder and asked, "Hey y/n, you okay?" As you dropped the pencil, you flinched.

“Oh sorry, just spacing out.” He shook his head as he spoke out, “For the rest of your shift you can take off if you want, we’re going to close earlier than usual. If you're leaving, clean out the coffee machine and be on your way.”

You enlarged your eyes as your jaw dropped, and you raced into his arms, squeezing him tightly. Your boss chuckled awkwardly as he gently pushed you away from him. For some reason, everything seemed to be working in your favor today. As you rush to get ready, you begin working on the machine, your smile never leaving your face.

You sped to the back room, clocking out and placing your apron into your locker, as you were done in no time. As you walked to the front, you waved goodbye to your manager before heading to your car in the parking area.

“What's the matter with her? That's the first time I've ever seen her that happy. Hmm”

And with that you were on your way to your parents house as you sent a quick text to wonwoo. As you grinned as you placed your phone in the dash holder, you came to a stop light.

You: Hey cancel today's session, I have a place to go to. It may also provide us with better title recommendations. You down??

Wonwoo:) Yes, that sounds excellent; the studio can become claustrophobic. Send me the address and a time frame for my arrival.

You: *address name*. Bring your guitar and meet there in 2 hours.

Wonwoo:) Oh okay. Can’t wait to see you there!

(read 5:45 p.m.)

Even though you weren’t nervous you wanted everything to be special, wonwoo deserved it for all that he has done for you in the past weeks.

You let yourself go as you blast songs down the road, pressing play on your playlist. You didn't notice it at first, but the color was gently sneaking in as you drove around. As creams and beige colors drifted in and out, the outsides of your eyes began to lift.

As you turned off the headlights and opened the door, it didn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. You smiled as you got your belongings from the car and made your way up the hill, finding your parents already set up.

You drop your belongings on the blanket and walk up to hug them, saying, "Hey guys." As they begin to chat with you, they embrace you in a friendly hug.

“So we set up all of the essential elements, such as lighting, a seating area, and refreshments in the cooler and basket.” As she began to indicate the various components, your mother explained. As she brought you around the hill to the tree, she took your hand in hers.

“You remember when you and Lucas did this?” You laugh as you remember that day as you place your palm on the antique carving.

-- “Noo I'd like to go first; you always go first.” You sighed as Lucas took up the knife and began carving his name into the tree.

“You better not cry and tell mom,” he remarked, turning to face you and seeing your glum demeanor. As you passed past him, you stood up straighter, rolling your eyes at him and snatching the knife from his grip.

“I'm not a baby like you,” you say. As he huffed and hurried toward mom, you heard him scoff.

“Mommmm y/n referring to me as a baby. And I'm not one of them. You stood there watching as he stomped his foot and landed on Mom's lap. Your father chuckles, rubbing his back and shaking his head at his wife.

As you return to the blanket, you cross your arms and say, "Well, then, quit acting like one."

That erupted in an outburst as he started to whine on mommy lap.

He did, in fact, act like a baby. Wiping a tear from your eyes as you chuckle, you hold your mother closer as you kiss her on the forehead.

“Hey we have an hour left before wonwoo get here, I'm going to head to the house to clean up. If he arrives early, keep him entertained.” As she watches you descend the hill, your mother shakes her head.

As you pull out of the parking lot, you put your foot down on the accelerator and drive over to your parents' house.

(45 minutes later)

Wonwoo approaches the destination, looking out the windshield as he spots some lights on the hill. As he steps out of the automobile, he notices two people moving around. He smiles as he collects his guitar from the rear and walks up the hill, noting the serene atmosphere.

“Those should go over by the tree and make sure they don't fall.” Wonwoo enters the place, his eyes widening. Fluorescent bulbs fanned out along the tops of the trees, each with a different picture on it, surrounding him.

As he looks down, he notices a blanket with a speaker playing music and the champagne.

Your parents finally turn around, gasping, when your mother rushes over to welcome him, saying, "Forgive us, we didn't hear anything, you must be wonwoo." That's y/n father over there, and I'm y/n mother.” As she introduces you to your father, she smiles and gives you a motherly look.

On this magnificent evening, only a few minutes had passed when you approached the hill once more. You take a brief glance in the mirror before applying some Chapstick. Rubbing it in you open the door as you look up on the hill, you hear conversations as you panic up the hill.

“So this is y/n, she was quite the messy twin when she was a baby-”

“What are you doing, Mom?” You walk over to her, ashamed, and place yourself between you and wonwoo, speaking quietly to her.

“I said to entertain him not embarrass me.”

“Oh, you're overthinking things; did you know he's friends with Lucas?” You chuckle as you grab your father and mother and begin bickering as you force them out of the location. As they descend the slope, they wave goodbye to you and wonwoo.

Taking one look at him, you notice his amusing state; he was cheesing so hard that his rosy cheeks were visible.

“Sorry about them.”

“It's fine; all parents do it.” They simply adore you.” You cross your legs and shake your head as you sit on the blanket, passing him a wine cup.

“To another wonderful day and a wonderful friendship.” Wonwoo takes out the champagne from the cooler as he opens it and sprays the excess in front of you.

“Ahh, you're spilling it” As you giggle at his action, the extra juice pours on your face. You reach for a napkin to wipe the wetness off your face as he takes one in front of you.

“Here, let me take care of it.” He leans in closer as he wipes the liquid from your face before resuming his seat. As your stomach begins to become a #1 gymnast, that simple action sends you spiraling.

“Th-thanks”

He smiles as he pours you a drink for both of you, and as he does so, you grab his guitar box and pry it open, admiring the golden beauty inside. Picking it up, you begin strumming a few chords of the nameless song while moving your head to the beat.

“Wow, you're actually pretty good.”

“I did have a good teacher, Lucas taught me a few things, but I only recall a few chords, so it may become irritating after a while.”

Wonwoo hands you the glass as you take it in your hand, and as you take a sip of the bubbly drink, you hand him the guitar.

As you take another sip, your spirits lift as you stare out at the scenery in front of you. You hear wonwoo begin to play the tune while you stare off towards the colorless world.

“Ruinous imagination consumes me. Makes me dream sweeter dreams, I close my eyes but thoughts of you. Bring noisy night, to you & me, real and dreamy.”

You sway back and forth as his voice soothes your body, his palm brushing over the guitar while his eyelids close, taking in the lyrics.

As you look up at him, you say, "Thank you." It's unavoidable, but tears stream down your face with no attempt to wipe them away.

“Th-thank you foreverythingyouhave-“ you say quickly and brokenly.

“Hey hey, calm down, I can't understand what you're saying,” he says as he scoots over to you and pats your shoulder. You both laugh as you start over, this time with more poise.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for genuinely improving my life. You probably don't know, but my relationship with Lucas was incredible; we were never apart, and when he passed, I couldn't live without him. I've struck rock bottom a few times and done some unfathomable things that I'm ashamed of, and I'm sincerely grateful that I've survived another day.”

Wonwoo drew you into a hug and caressed your back as he ceased patting your shoulder. As you sob into his shoulder, the tears begin to flow again.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it seemed like you needed one,” he says as you continue, releasing leave of you.

“To put it simply, you have brought me so much joy and optimism that I am overwhelmed. It's not the same without Lucas, but I'm grateful you entered my life at this point. So thank you; I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

You come to a halt as he looks at you through his round spectacles, and as you become concerned, you begin to look down.

“Sorry if I just spewed all that out.”

“No, it's fine.” I truly appreciate it, and I'm glad I was able to restore a sense of hope in your life. I may not be Lucas, but I will do my best to pay tribute to his memory.

You smile as you feel a wave of self-assurance and an overpowering sensation of bravery wash over you.

When you bring wonwoo closer to you and kiss him on the lips, everything inside of you turns on, and your body begins to feel alive again, exactly like it did before.

“I'm sorry I should have asked you first-“ You release him and lean back as you watch him.

He silenced your words with his lips as his hands wrapped around your neck.

Everything comes rushing back to you in an instant, like a blanket being pulled off of you. As you open your eyes again, you let go of each other. The difference this time is that you can see him.

As he smiled at you, you could see his cheeks flush with scarlet. You can see his silver rings around his slender fingers as his hands slip away from your neck.

You slowly turn around to face the sinking light on the horizon. As if a million scarlet petals have ignited, the sunset blooms on the horizon.

You expected the tears to flow this time as you stood up and walked closer to the cliff's edge. As you stared at the gorgeous view in front of you, you undoubtedly looked a mess.

You collapse to your knees and exclaim, "I can see it!"

Wonwoo approaches you slowly, bending down with you and holding you in his arms.

“See what?”

As you held him again, your snot-filled tear-streaked face turned to his.

“The color has returned, and I can see it now.” As he gasps, he pulls you back.

“Wait, are you serious, what color shirt am I wearing?”

“IT'S GREEN, YOUR SHIRT IS GREEN!!” Wonwoo scoops you up and spins you again in an instant. You lay another kiss on his lips as you chuckle into his lips, unsure of what to do.

The clouds floated into my life, not to bring rain or storms, but to add color to the sunset sky.

He picks up the polaroid camera off the ground and takes a candid shot of you. After he pecked your cheek once more, he smiled as he wanted to remember this special day.

You send wonwoo off to find a knife from the basket as the photo develops. You observe him as he runs around the area like a child, and you smile as the photo develops.

You've probably seen images where the background is blurred and the only thing in focus is the subject of the photograph. That was us. Every other detail became hazy as I concentrated on every facet of him.

You didn't realize how fortunate you were until now; he was the special someone you had wished for eons ago.

Everything felt even better when your color returned, and you knew deep down that everything was going to be well.

It was all because of wonwoo.

Your brother left you a gift, the lovely gift of music, which was seen via wonwoo.

Yes, your brother had been your best friend, and yes, he had left you. But, as you found a great friend, the life he presumably wanted for you had only just begun.

You hoped that with him, you would be able to treasure the love you had just as much as you did while you were together.

“Hey, wonwoo, I have a song title, also follow me.”

As he began heading toward you, he turned around and looked at you. You've both arrived at the same tree that was planted many years ago.

He gives you the knife as you start placing your name under your past self. As he watches you cry, Wonwoo does the same.

*Forever, Y/n, Wonwoo, and Lucas*

As he finishes up, you grab his hand and stroll back to the blanket setup. He takes a seat beside you and wraps his arm over your body.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“Bittersweet, that's the title,” you said as you turned to face him.

“I love it,” he says as he pulls you closer to him with a nod of his head.

And with that, your brother's memory was carefully preserved, shared, and intended for all to hear.

“Lucas, I'll never forget you.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

#seventeen #svt #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fics #seventeen writer #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #soulmate au #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen masterlist #babytaes works

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supremeinlilac · 3 years

Text

Hurt me once

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Hurt me once- Ben Platt, also there will be a Mina one too :))

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Cheating, lying, basically Billie is how I imagine some celebrities in reality tv to be like, so soz.

Maybe you were reading into it too much. Since Billie had started dating you, you’d wanted to pull away from working for her and get your own job on the pretence that you could never be equal if you worked as her assistant day in and day out. You supposed you’d brought it upon yourself.

She still needed an assistant. Her job was demanding and stressful so of course she’d rehire. You’d been naïve to think any differently.

“No one can replace you.” She’d purred when you’d admitted to wanting to quit. Assuring that you’d been her best help to date.

She was lying.

You’d tried to remain focus in work but Billie Dean Howard had this addicting aura about her person and you couldn’t help but become distracted. Especially when she’d aim flirty remarks and winks with pinpoint precision at you. Like a lamb to slaughter you were set up to fail.

She’d taken you to watch a drive in movie for your first date. Huddled together under blankets on the plush of her backseat. It had been an action, the name escapes you now; but at the time you’d been far more aware of the way the light from the screen caught against her skin instead of the actual film.

The way she’d catch you staring and the signature cocky grin would form, tongue poking into her cheek as she pulled you closer. Under the stars that night you’d felt her lips for the first time, the moon a perfect witness. Stark and full above you, beaming down in chords of silvery light.

Naturally, it became routine for the moon to bare witness to such moments. For you both to come together under the pale light and either dance or watch another movie. The moon was hers, delicately and wholly and irrevocably hers.

You can’t look at the moon now without feeling the need to howl at it like a wolf does. For the moon had stolen Billie from you. The moon was no longer a thing you shared alone.

Billie took her new assistant to a drive in theatre.

It rained. The sky cried and protested like a petulant child because it should have been you. It should have been you there, huddled together under blankets on the plush of her backseat. Instead of throwing a tantrum, you told yourself that she was just being kind. Billie Dean was kind. Annoyingly so, in this case.

You told yourself that she didn’t realise that doing that was your thing, something that you did together. It was special. A rare pearl lodged in the mouth of a clam, the gem that you were lucky to have had. Had. Had you lost it, was its touch fleeting? Inevitably drawn back after being loaned so cruelly?

You started to notice the little ways Billie was pulling away. At least, you thought she was pulling away. Little landmines that were buried under your feet, growing and ticking dangerously, waiting for you to lose balance and fall. Triggering them. A looming explosion.

Billie would eat with her production team after long scheduled days of filming, she’d message you fleetingly with wordless apologies for her absence, and slip into bed after you slept. She never saw the tears that would stain the skin of your cheeks. At least you hoped she didn’t notice them, because she never mentioned it, and you’d prefer her to be ignorant to it than to ignore your pain.

She’d started to take her phone calls on the porch, leaving the dinner table with only a motion to the ringing to say where she was going. She’d mouth that she’d be back in a minute but you’d always have to reheat her food. Eating alone with the silhouette of your lover in the window had become the regular, leaving an uneasy feeling in your gut which you couldn’t seem to shake.

It seemed like you’d forgotten how to read her face.

No. You’d always been able to sense her mood by the twitch of a lip or the furrow of a brow, could know what she was thinking without even having to try.

It struck you that maybe that was only the case because she was letting you, an open book, the tells of her mood bright against the curves of her face. The book was no longer open, fragile pages torn in an attempt to hide the contents. The library of Billie Dean’s emotions padlocked and closed to you.

At the back of your mind however, you knew that you could still read her like you always had been able to. A feeble attempt to disguise the fact that you could see the words strewn carefully across the page, so clearly in front of you. But you don’t like what you read, instead feigning oblivion rather than face the truth.

It was red to love Billie Dean.

Passionate and fuelled, excitement sparking your muscles involuntarily. It was hot, blushed faces between silken sheets. The feeling one gets as the rollercoaster reaches its peak, and hovers just over the edge, dipping so you can see the fall. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a moment you feel like you might live forever, stay in this moment and this safety with Billie.

But a moment doesn’t last forever.

And then it’s dropping. Falling, falling. You reach out to grasp for something sturdy but fingers only close around the fragments of memories that you’re losing. Moments you won’t experience again. And your breath draws in a way that is painful, burning down to your lungs. Red. Fire. Dangerous.

For it was dangerous to love Billie Dean.

You knew it all too well.

You’d read the suggestive articles about the mysterious, nameless new girl that clung to Billie’s arm, sheltered by the umbrella she’d once used to protect you from the rain.

Now, you’d dance fearlessly under it with closed eyes and a head tilted to the sky. Welcoming the rain from your apologetic moon. For your moon was panoptic, it saw your pain and her infidelity, sending shards of silver regret.

You wanted the looming explosion to be destructive. To be angry and snapping and make her understand that she’d hurt you with inexistent loyalty when yours had been unwavering.

But the explosion wasn’t big. It wasn’t sudden and angry, a dog snarling and baring steak knives for teeth, loud and frothing at the mouth. Looking back you wished it had been, it would have been easier to hate her, to blame her.

Hating Billie Dean Howard was impossible. Even the people with the least humility would sooner blame themselves, sinking and struggling beneath the waves themselves lest have Billie drown.

You found yourself drawing back into yourself, a child curled into itself in the corner, a small animal frantic to take up the least space possible. You shrunk, imploding instead of exploding. Crippling hatred gnawed at your skin, vultures picking your body clean and leaving it to rot in the burning sun.

Doubt crushes your ribs to ash, filling your lungs and mixing with blood to a paste no amount of coughing will clear. It was deep and bruising, and you knew that not even Billie’s empty reassurance wouldn’t settle the ache.

The night you confronted Billie played in your mind like a broken cassette, looping the scene, a single jumping moment on display endlessly.

You’d been crying. Billie hadn’t turned up for the dinner you’d made for your anniversary, well she’d showed, hours later and stumbling through the door. She’d been drinking and the curve of her lips was smudged with a crimson lipstick under the moonlight.

Your moonlight.

You couldn’t remember a time when Billie Dean had worn red lipstick. Hooker lipstick, as she’d once said. The fact only made the tears run anew.

Her intoxication made it easier. Perhaps you’d be able to vent and cry and confess to her and she wouldn’t remember come the morning. The spirits in the walls would remind her though, whispers and taunts in sobriety.

You wanted to be big and angry, pushing back against her when her actions cut you, hurting and scarring her back. But you were kinder than her. Billie was kind but she had nothing on you.

You’d stood, bags packed in a pile by the door, and she’d sat. You’d cried, and she didn’t. She didn’t even speak until you made to leave, didn’t move until it was to cling onto your wrists in a frantic effort to keep you.

“Did you sleep with her?” You found yourself asking without even registering your words. You hadn’t planned on being so direct.

“Y/n, listen to me. I-”

“Did you, sleep with her?” Ignoring her, you spoke. Slower, punctuating and almost spitting your words at her, as if keeping them against your tongue would do more damage.

“Once, yes. But she’s not you.” Billie said, slender fingers reaching to pull at the pearls around her neck, instead of reaching to you.

You found yourself backing away again, struck anew at her final admission. Somehow it hurt more to hear her confirm what you already knew to be true. Like when you know someone to be dying, yet it only really hits you when they’re gone. When it’s too late to change anything.

“I don’t know why I did it, I just-” her voice trailed off, hands hitting out at nothing. Slumping onto the sofa, you mirrored her movement, perching yourself tentatively on the arm of the coach.

Your eyes flitted from her form to the door, the escape should you need it. Should youchoose it.

“You did it because you could, Billie.” You breathed, knuckles pressing at your temple to ease an impending migraine. Fighting with Billie always gave you a headache, it was a headache to get your point across when she’d ceased to listen. “I mean I get it, it’s exciting. Young girls like me, fawning. You feel, I don’t know? Appreciated, flattered?”

You knew that it was commonplace among celebrities like Billie, to chain date young girls who fed into their egos and made them feel young. Billie didn’t speak for a while, head in her hands and knees knocking together while you forced yourself to not watch her, eyes fixing instead on the way the curtains sways slightly with the open window. Even the curtains ached to free themselves.

“Look. I’m sorry, I swear.” Her voice thawed, defensiveness gone and replaced with a vulnerability she rarely let herself show. You wrung your hands in your lap and stared at the way they whitened with pressure. Your lungs felt like that, blood pressed out with the crushing doubt, a band wrapped around your ribs. You almost reached a hand up to your chest to help you breathe.

She stood, reaching into the cabinet drawer and retrieving a packet of cigarettes and flicking one between her fingers. She didn’t light it. What would be the point of creating more of a separating fog between you both? Instead, she just fiddled with it, a nervous tic.

“Can we still be in love?” She pleaded, eyes shining and you screwed yours tight as to not be lost to the depths of them. Her eyes were your weakness, and she knew it. You’d once told her that you thought you’d seen the man on the moon, reflected in them. The man on the moon, dancing on a music box in her eyes.

“I don’t know you. Your voice, it’s different.” The shake of your head and the riddle of your words had the medium narrowing her eyes in confusion. For one who loved to play games, Billie wasn’t playing fair.

“What do you mean? Different how?”

Frustration bit at you, and you wondered if this was the explosion people spoke of. An internal understanding of grief for something you never had.

“I can’t with you Billie! Did you ever even love me? You say you want to be in love but were you ever in love with me? What makes me different from the others?” The chime of the music box, opened and singing in the splash of your tears.

She sighed, tying her hair loosely behind her head to stop her from running her hands through it in anguish. She didn’t like to see you in pain knowing she was the one who’d caused it. Unjustly caused it. Guilt washed smoothly over her only now at the sight of her baby girl, a small ache in the gut. But the realisation hit like a winter wave in a storm. She’d lose you if she didn’t fight to keep you.

She reached out to wipe your tears with a comforting hand.

“Let me in. Please.”

Who were you to seek comfort in the person who’d broken you? Much alike to a shadow seeking solace with the sun, the sun that burned and cut through the shade. Prey looking to please the predator.

But you did. You craved the musk of smoke that would cling to her clothes, the rasp to her voice in the morning. The suggestive lilt to her eyebrow when she’d dress you in her favourite dress, dancing in an empty crowd because she used to only see you.

“I love you.” She begged; voice hoarse from overuse. “You’re a part of me.”

That made you stop. Made you question.

Who were you without her? Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars. She was a light, cutting through the dangerous darkness a path forged for you. The darkness was exciting and inviting and you wanted to be comfortable in its depths, but without her you are nothing.

You sell your soul for the chance at happiness. For the hope that she may learn to love you properly, how you love, and deserve to be loved back. To walk in the light.

You tell yourself how easy it would be to leave the city and find peace elsewhere. Get a steady job in television production, a steady and reliable wage. Reliability. Billie had made you crave it. Crave it from her, selfishly asking for something that you aren’t even sure if she’s capable to give you.

But you're ensnared in her trap. Her charm and confidence has bound you on a tether, an obedient puppy just looking to please. Young and impressionable.

How could you settle for a simple life when Billie had shown you the city from the highest building. Made you watch as the lights illuminated the world below in perfect technicolour. She’d shown you what could be, what was destined to not to be, but what you’d reach for nonetheless.

You’d known about Billie’s previous proclivities toward girls your age, but you’d believed that you could change her. Naively, you, another wide eyed, hopeful wannabee, believed you could make her settle down. Stupid. She’d lain with dozens of girls like you, before you, and she would lay with dozens more.

This realisation did nothing to stop you from letting her back in, agreeing to her empty promise of change.

Was change even possible?

She was Billie Dean Howard, the stars. The stars could make deals with the people of Earth, but they could not bargain in return. You can’t catch a star and claim it as your own. She held all the cards, all the choices while you remained empty. Without her, you were nothing.

You let yourself be engulfed by the stars. Opening your arms for her warmth to invade you once again as she pulled you into a hug. Letting yourself be hers again.

But you’d always been hers, ever since she’d strode, cocky and confident, into your life. You didn’t think that she’d ever truly been yours, or ever would.

Billie Dean Howard held the unpredictability of a tornado’s spin, and people got caught up in her exciting whirlwind. You weren’t sure if she really meant for them to, or if she realised the damage she left in her wake. Travelling from place to place, never looking back.

It was a defence mechanism the job forced upon her. But who was defending you?

“No second chances.” You warned her through gritted teeth, chin propped against her shoulder. She couldn’t see the angry tears that pricked at your eyes, anger at her, at yourself. You’d been reminded of the dangers over and over and yet you still allowed yourself to fall victim to her charm.

“I won’t need one, I promise. I swear I won’t,” Billie reassured, palms rubbing up your back and making you shiver involuntarily. You clutched her blouse in trembling fingers, perhaps if you held on strong enough your bones might turn to ash in her grasp and she’d be the one to mourn. You convinced yourself she wouldmourn.

“I can’t do this again.” Truth.

“I won’t do this again.” Lie.

She hummed, accepting your whispers as truth, for who was Billie Dean Howard to question you? Who was she to take your love for granted and render it infinite? Fame did not mean she was entitled to your loyalty if she refused to give hers.

Billie wasn’t stupid, she knew it wasn’t a game she could win without consequences. She couldn’t have it all. Wouldn’t have it all.

“I love you.” A kiss against skin mottled by tears.

You didn’t say it back, she didn’t deserve it yet. Despite wanting to let your lips form the words, your teeth bit down on your tongue and refused for the phrase to drip demurely from it, she had not yet earned the nectar of your spoken love.

Instead; you let Billie believe that you would have actually left. That you would leave next time.

Not that you wouldn’t have eventually, when you finally broke the spell she had over you, being the television star that she is. You loathed that you would forgive her for hurting you so easily, self-respect forgotten in lieu of kissing under the gentle moon once more.

You were ashamed that you were proud of the fact that she could do anything and you’d still be in love with her. You’d chosen her, your colour sealed with the crimson blood that coursed through your veins.

Red was once your favourite colour, wasn’t it?

taglist: @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @pluied-ete @okpaulson @extraordinarilycelestrial @mssallymckenna @magnificent-paulsonn @shineestark @commanderspeach @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @darling-dontforgetme @amethyst-bitch @its-soph-xx @germansarechill @bluesxrgnt @d14n4ol @ninaahs @sarahp-stan @natasha-danvers @imgayandmymomdoesntknow @lovelypeasantjellyfish @rainbow-hedgehog @paulawand @saucy-sapphic @lilypadscoven @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @sapphicsarahpaulson @delias-bitch-craft @venablemayfairgoode @loverofallthingssarah @music-addict ,,if you want to be added, give me a shout :))

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #american horror story #ahs murder house #imagine

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ikeromantic · 3 years

Text

First Day pt. 2

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1400 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

Grouchy customer with sexy-rich-class attitude: Kenshin Uesugi

Walking nerd-encyclopedia and corporate flunkie: Sasuke Sarutobi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing. Yet I keep doing it. Seriously. I can't get this out of my brain right now.

First Day pt. 1

Nobunaga found it hard to concentrate with the girl there. His eyes kept seeking her out. His thoughts drifting to her when he was supposed to be focused on re-orders, contracts, budgeting . . . He glanced up from his laptop to see Ranmaru standing entirely too close to her. The barista was showing her how to operate the espresso machine, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder.

He might have said something, but the door swung open just then and in walked their most troublesome customer. Useugi.

Kenshin took in the cafe with a displeased glare. His good looks were offset by the miasma of violence and suppressed emotion that hung in the air everywhere he went. Despite his angelic features, heterochromatic eyes, and gorgeous platinum locks, he intimidated nearly everyone in his path. Everyone but Nobunaga and his cafe crew, which was why he kept returning to this insignificant coffee shop when he could have gone anywhere.

His personal assistant hurried in after him and quickly moved to one of the tables, pulling out a chair for his boss. “Sir?”

Uesugi sat with a slight grimace. “That took you .5 seconds longer than last time. Perhaps I should replace you, Sarutobi.”

“Of course sir.” Sasuke Sarutobi’s expression of mild amusement didn’t shift in the slightest. He gave his boss a slight bow and headed for the counter. “One half-caf medium with exactly one pump raspberry and one pump chocolate, oat milk, extra foam, caramel drizzle and curls. And a shot of espresso on the side.”

Mitsunari doesn’t even blink. “Is that all, sir?”

Kenshin doesn’t turn, but a slight smirk turns his lips up at the corners. “Order for the entire office, Sarutobi. My treat.”

It takes several minutes to deliver the complex coffee orders. Everyone’s favorite everything, to exacting specifications. A light sweat breaks out of Mitsunari’s forehead, but he keeps smiling.

Ranmaru isn’t so sanguine. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Two and three-quarters pumps of peppermint? Half white chocolate drizzle and what?”

The girl laughs. “I didn’t know you could put so much in your coffee.” She begins to prep the first order, moving a little slowly as she tries to remember where each product is and how to work the machines.

Nobunaga tenses, ready for Kenshin’s inevitable outburst. Any delay would send him into a violent rant with threats of lawsuits and putting you out of business and blah blah blah.

Uesugi turns around with clear intent but when his eyes fall on the girl, they widen. “You . . . hired a woman? In a coffee shop?”

The girl gives him an over-the-shoulder smile. “Sorry about the wait for your drink, sir. I hope I got it right.” She puts the finishing touches on top of the foam and walks the cup over to Kenshin’s table.

His eyes get wider the closer she comes. “You -” He seems to be at a complete loss for words.

Sarutobi looks concerned. His gaze floats between the girl and his boss for a moment, unsure if he should intervene.

“Get out of my sight,” Kenshin mutters, but the demand is half-hearted. “Women are such a distraction. Completely unnecessary in business.” He throws an irritated glance at Nobunaga. “Did my competition tell you to bring this - this girl here today?”

Sasuke slips around to the girl’s side and pulls her out of the danger zone. “Sorry about the boss. He’s a little unstable. Stress. Childhood trauma. The usual.” He blinks awkwardly as if both eyes were trying to wink at the same time.

“Of course not,” Nobunaga grins. Something about Kenshin’s intensity always made him want to needle the man. “But then, if they had, why would I tell you?” His carnelian eyes narrowed. “Maybe I’m your competition.”

“I could put your little coffee shop out of business,” Kenshin growled.

“Try it and see what happens.” Nobunaga was standing now, his voice low and menacing.

Ieyasu poked his head out of the kitchen and frowned. “Is Nobunaga fighting with customers again?”

“Yep.” Ranmaru grinned.

Masamune peered out, grinning widely. “Somebody get the lass a mop. This is going to get ugly.”

The girl pulled away from Sasuke and pushed between the two angry businessmen. “Excuse me, but could you both sit down? I’m very sorry if I caused you any discomfort, sir.” She looked at Kenshin, met his cold stare head on. “You might think a woman doesn’t belong in business, but flats don’t pay for themselves.”

“Great. Will someone grab the first aid kit,” Ieyasu muttered.

Masamune chuckled. “The lass has got balls of steel.”

Mitsunari was poking around for a first aid kit for Ieyasu, but he looked up at Masamune’s comment. “Does she? I didn’t see her carrying any kind of ball.”

Ranmaru giggled. “Should I explain it to you?”

“Don’t you dare.” Ieyasu cut the pink haired barista off.

Kenshin sat heavily, the tension suddenly emptying from him. “Your boss needs to teach you how to speak politely to customers.” Then he turned away from her and began to drink his coffee.

Sarutobi sagged for a moment in relief. “You must be a half-elf paladin,” he told the girl as she stepped past him.

“I don’t know what that is.” She shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m actually putting myself through school to be a fashion designer.”

“Ah, creative, beautiful, and brave.” Sasuke blushed, realizing he’d said that aloud.

“Hey, don’t flirt with her, you corporate flunky. She’s our new hire.” Ranmaru grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind the counter.

“That’s right lad. Take your to-go order and go.” Masamune frowned.

Ieyasu elbowed him. “Not that I care, but if she’d been assigned to help me with the pastries, she wouldn’t be out here where nerdy customers could attempt awkward pick-up lines.”

“I apologize,” Sasuke said stiffly.

The girl smiled. “Don’t worry about it! You’ll have to come back sometime and tell me what a half-elf paladin is.”

Her inviting expression only made the glowers of her co-workers more obvious.

Sarutobi made a dignified exit, leaving with the drink orders for his office.

Hideyoshi took the opportunity to take the girl aside. “I appreciate what you did there, but you shouldn’t be throwing yourself into danger. Are you ok? Do you need a break? How about you sit down and we’ll get you a tea.”

“I’m really alright,” she told him. “I mean, it was a little scary but he wouldn’t have actually hit me.” Her eyes widened. “Right?”

“You are clearly new to this city if you haven’t heard the Kenshin horror stories.” Hideyoshi sighed. “Just, from now on let one of us handle it. It’s barely your first day so stick to the easy stuff.” He led her to the breakroom and sat her down on a tatty old sofa.

The break room was a sacred space for the cafe employees. A spot to grab a drink or a bite to eat out of the customer’s prying eyes. Nobunaga kept it comfortable, with an old couch and a couple of overstuffed chairs. A set of shelves held antique tea sets and some paperback books. There was a tv on the opposite wall and some potted plants in the windowsill on the far wall.

Ieyasu brought her tea and a strawberry pastry. He sat down, wearing an expression of pure annoyance. “So what. Are you suicidal?”

“What? No!” The girl looked at the tea and then back up at the annoyed blonde. “I just don’t like it when people fight. Someone might get hurt. And it would be especially bad if I caused it.”

“So just an idiot then.” Ieyasu sighed. “I don’t know what I expected. Nobunaga doesn’t hire normal people.”

“You realize that includes you, right?” She giggled.

Ieyasu looked away. “Whatever.”

The girl quietly sipped her tea. That lasted until she took a bite of the sweet, crumbly strawberry pastry. “Oh . . . this is . . . this is really good!”

“You don’t have to sound surprised,” Ieyasu huffed. Despite his tone, he wore a slight smile. He turned his head a fraction to look at her.

“It’s just, strawberries are my absolute favorite and this is - you blended the flavors perfectly. Not too sweet, and the fruit is the first and last thing on my tongue.” She finished eating it with a happy sigh. “I feel like I could eat a whole pan of these.”

Ieyasu busied himself with picking up the tray. “Then you’d get a tummy ache and I’d have to waste my time making you ginger tea.”

She laughed. “You know, I think under all that grouchiness you must be a really nice guy. I can tell by how you bake. You couldn’t make such sweet things if you were really that sour.”

For a heartbeat, Ieyasu was struck speechless. His mouth opened and closed as crimson crept across his cheeks. “You just proved you're an idiot,” he finally managed, sounding more breathless than annoyed. He hurried out of the room.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen masamune #ikesen ranmaru #ikesen kenshin #ikesen sasuke #coffee shop au #fanfiction #fanfic #otome guys #otome #fluff

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 3 years

Text

if your requests are open dear, could I request something ? I've had J getting wounded and being an absolute dramatic mess on my mind this week and I was thinking you could turn it into a short drabble ? Maybe smutty ? Thank you eek !!

Hello anon! 💖

Oh my goodness I’m sorry this has taken me so long!! I’ve had a lot going on and my creative ability has suffered from it but I finally finished this and I hope you like it!

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, whump

Word count: 1703

Warnings: blood (!), blood loss, injury, injured J, angry shouting, light smut

Hurt

You struggled to kick the door to your bathroom open, trying to support his much taller frame across your shoulders at the same time. The sound of his groans echoed off of the tile once you switched on the light and managed to get both of you through the doorway.

He growled and cursed loudly, almost pulling you down with him, when you dropped his arm from around your shoulders and lowered him into the bathtub. His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths once his back settled against the porcelain, but you took no time to catch your own breath before springing to the cabinet to look for your first aid supplies.

You should have figured this day would come, when he’d show up at your door, shirt wet with blood – his blood, barely able to stand on his own and nearly incoherent. Where else could he go for help? The hospital wasn’t exactly a great option for a guy like him. And even with his reputation, no matter how notorious, he was bound to get hurt for all of the shit he stirred up. If you were smart, you thought, you would have had your first aid kit ready for action as soon as you started seeing Joker regularly. But, since a first aid kit was nowhere to be found, you had to improvise.

Cursing under your breath, you tossed towels and half-empty bottles of hair care products that never lived up to your expectations over your shoulder in search of something to clean up the blood with so that you could better assess the damage. A bar of plain soap would have to do.

Turning back toward the tub, you stopped in your tracks and stared for a moment at the sight in front of you. His face was twisted with pain and strands of his stringy green hair stuck to his brow, his greasepaint tacky from his sweat. His vest was open, and his shirt was plastered to his skin, the fabric saturated with blood. Another groan through gritted teeth snapped you out of your trance and you rushed to kneel beside the tub, reaching over the edge to loosen his tie and to start to unbutton his shirt.

Some of the buttons were sticky with a mixture of dried and fresh blood, making it even more difficult for your shaky fingers to slide them through their holes. Your eyes couldn’t open any wider than they already were as you mustered up an intense amount of concentration just to open his torn shirt, uncertain about what you were going to see and whether you’d be able to handle it. There was a lot of blood. Had he been shot? Stabbed? Mauled? It seemed you were in a similar position as Joker was, the adrenaline buzzing through your veins being the only thing keeping you conscious.

Holding your breath once the last button slipped free, you pulled the shirt open. A mixture of relief and nausea washed over you and made the sweat on your brow feel cold before you let out a sigh. A nasty gash in his side continued to ooze blood but didn’t seem to be as bad as you’d prepared yourself for. Gross, yes, but not life threatening.

“Look at you, hm? Gettin’ your hands dirty,” Joker panted before letting out another groan and squeezing his eyes shut when a giggle tugged painfully on his wound.

Maybe if you slapped him, his injury would hurt less. But the return of his irksome sarcastic attitude was actually quite a relief. If he could crack jokes, then he must be in okay shape despite the blood loss. You stood from beside the tub to grab a washcloth and quickly run it under the sink faucet, making a sudsy lather with the bar of soap. Returning to kneel at the edge of the tub, you reached down to start cleaning blood from around the wound.

“AHH! FUCK!” Joker shouted and firmly grabbed your wrist to wrench it away from his torso, firmly gritting his teeth.

You whipped your head up to face him and yelled back, “I have to clean it!”

His grip on your wrist tightened, wincing as his heavy breaths strained the edges of the wound while keeping his eyes on yours. “Do ya now?” His voice dropped deep and you both became still.

You stared back and blinked at him. You should have guessed he’d be the type who doesn’t like things done for him. But you doubted he’d be as thorough as you would be. Swallowing down your nerves, you answered, “Are yougoing to do it then?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he drew in a breath before resting his head back against the tub, letting go of your wrist. “If you wanted to play doctor, you should’ve just said so. I like a woman in scrubs.”

The tension in the air dissolved and he clicked his tongue before a twinge in his side made him flinch and suck on his teeth. Was he compromising? It seemed that way. It was like he had to hold on to some sort of control over the situation to let you help him. It kind of made your stomach flutter.

You smirked and answered, “Well I don’t own any scrubs… so maybe next time.”

He hummed and licked his lips, looking at you then back down at his side. His eyes told you to get on with it and you suddenly felt much more nervous. Heat rose up into your cheeks now that he was watching you and the buzz of adrenaline was wearing off, but you told yourself that you can do this.

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously brought the cloth back to his wound, gently wiping its edges. He was still at first, then tensed his abdomen when you started to apply pressure, making your heart beat that much faster. But you had to keep going. You couldn’t leave it like this and let it get infected. He groaned and brought his knuckle between his teeth to bite down on it as you got to work cleaning up the dried blood.

He growled and squirmed in the tub, making it difficult to be delicate but you bit back your desire to tell him to be still. Once the soap cleared away the last of the debris, you dropped the cloth and quickly stood to go grab a cup from the kitchen to rinse it. He wasn’t the only one who was relieved that you’d finished.

“Don’t really have a light touch do ya, doll?” he said as you re-entered the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black then you didn’t know what was. “Well, you weren’t being very cooperative.”

Joker let out a sharp giggle before scrunching up his face and groaning again while he gripped the sides of the tub. You smiled to yourself and approached the sink to fill the plastic cup you’d retrieved with warm water.

“Mmm that’s ok, I like a little pain,” you heard him reply from behind you.

Turning around, you to see him flash a haughty grin at you before bouncing his eyebrows. You smirked back at him before raising the cup and dumping the of water over him, splashing away the soap as he growled loudly, and you giggled.

Of course, after all of that, you found your first aid supplies after helping him out of the tub as well as his bloodied and soaking wet shirt, but not without a symphony of curses and yelling. Once you’d applied a bandage to the wound and secured a gaze wrap that would hold him over until you could find a way to stitch him up, you lead him to your bed where he flopped onto his back.

Letting out a deep groan he said, “Ya know, you should consider a career in torture. You’ve got a knack for it, doll face.”

You chuckled as you pulled his shoes off of his feet where they hung over the edge of the bed and asked, “Was that a job offer?”

He laughed, making him groan once again from the tugging at his side and you were struck with a strange feeling. That flutter in your stomach. It was almost like pride, but not quite. The man who needed no one came to you for help. Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you thought it did, but that’s ok. The thought that he trusted you enough to turn to you when something went wrong made your heart soar and your belly feel warm.

“So, this is what that much blood loss does to you, huh?”

You smiled at him from the foot of the bed as he lifted his head and answered, “I still have some left.”

The warmth in your belly rose up to your face and compelled you to cautiously climb on top of him, careful to avoid putting any strain on his wound as you gently pressed your pelvis against his. Your heart pounded while you waited for his reaction before a low hum rumbled in his chest as his hands traveled up your sides.

Goosebumps followed his fingertips, and the heat of your breath met his when you leaned forward to ask softly, “Do you have enough left for me to help dull that pain a bit?”

His lips curved into a smile and hands lightly squeezed your waist as he answered with a deep chuckle, “Mmm let’s find out, shall we?”

Your smile matched his before locking your lips together in a kiss, his hands moving to stroke your thighs while you reached to pull his zipper down, your fingers grazing against his hardened cock. Heavy breaths through your noses mixed together while your tongues tangled together and you sank down onto his freed length, the delicious pressure making you moan into his mouth. Your hips rocked slowly against his where you straddled his lap, low groans coming from his throat as his head tilted back and his hands traveled your torso while you helped him forget he was hurt at all.

Taglist! @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen

#anon request #heath ledger joker #ledger joker #tdk joker #ledger!joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x you #ledger joker whump #tw blood #tw injury #smutty fic #light smut

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arhvste · 3 years

Text

❝ eyeliner ❞

kuroo x reader — in which you beg your boyfriend to let you do his eyeliner : x gn reader

“does that not hurt?” kuroo’s voice perked up in curiosity as he glanced over the screen of your phone. a tutorial was currently playing, one of the quick ones on instagram you were mindlessly scrolling through to be more specific.

“no? well, i don’t think so anyway.” you reply, eyes glued to the luminous screen of your phone.

“huh” he mumbled to himself as he continued to watch the video over your shoulder.

you were about to scroll to the next video before an idea struck inside of you. eyes flickering up at your boyfriend who was certainly none the wiser, a small smile tugged at your lips before you shut your phone off and turned to face him, puzzling the bed head who’s lap you were currently sat on.

“tetsurō,” you began softly and kuroo raised an eyebrow. “i think, you would look good with eyeliner.”

‘flattery will you anywhere’ you mentally stated before smiling softly at him as he considered your previous statement.

“i look good with anything,” he teased, boyish grin gracing his face. “but,” he sighed, glancing over towards your vanity mirror. “i think maybe you could convince me to try it.”

you sighed and brushed the hair out of his face. his eyes softened as they met yours as he found comfort in your soft touch. “please?” you pleaded, praying your eyes were as soft looking as his.

“my price is a bit higher than just a few pleads.” he smirked at your attempts of begging.

“what if i kiss you?” you asked, thumb grazing over his cheekbone.

“then maybe i’ll let you get draw on my face, you’ll have to do it to find out though.”

you laughed shortly before leaning in, hot breath fanning over his face. you pressed a quick but still very much loving kiss to his lips before pulling away, hands still cupping the sides of his face as he looked at you with his adoring eyes.

“hmmm, i suppose i can do some charity work, and lend you my face as your drawing pad.”

“idiot,” you huffed, flicking his ear as he cackled. “it’s just two small details to your eyes, it’s hardly drawing all over your face.”

still happy he was obliging, you got up and grabbed an eyeliner off your vanity desk before hopping back onto the bed to straddle your awaiting victim.

“hold still” you muttered, brushing the hair out of his face with one hand, eyeliner close to his face with the other. his hands looped around your waist holding you still as you carefully lined up the liquid pen to his eyes.

within just a matter of seconds, kuroo was already snickering and fidgeting uber your touch, the small end of the eyeliner setting his nerves off.

“stop!” you whined pulling away as he visably relaxed at the lack of contact from the cosmetic product.

“you’re the one tickling me” he challenged back as his fidgeting stopped.

“not purposely! now stop it or i won’t kiss you for the rest of the day.”

“we both know that’s a lie but whatev-”

his voice cut off at the sight of your soft glare and small frown.

“okay, okay.” he shrugged in defence, before realaxing back under your touch as you smiled and leaned in.

he winced a little when you applied the product to his face once more, but after a few moments he grew accustomed to the weird feeling and did his best to be the perfect canvas for you.

the eye that wasn’t currently being worked on peeped open for a brief moment and he was so glad it did. the sight of your concentrated face and tongue poking out ever so slightly made his heart flutter. you were just too cute.

he smiled and opened his eyes as you pulled away to study the job on his first eye. a warm feeling spread through him as you hummed in satisfaction before telling his to shut his eyes again so you could work on his other eye.

going through the same process once more, you carefully drew the small but effective details on his eye, making sure to match it as evenly to the other as you could.

pulling away once more, you smiled priding yourself with your good job.

“open you eyes.” you instructed as kuroo obliged.

you sighed as you closed the liner securely and dropped it on your comforter as you messed about with his hair to try and keep the bang away from his eye.

“am i prettier than you?” he joked as you stared at his face, studying your attempt.

“actually,” you breathed out, pulling him off the bed and towards the vanity. “i think you just might be.”

leading kuroo over to the mirror, you stood back so he could analyse himself and his new look. you bit the inside of your cheek as you awaited his final verdict, eyes focused waiting for his reaction.

“i think i like this.” he muttered to himself, moving the obnoxious hair out of his face so he could study both eyes.

he turned to face you before pulling you back over to the bed where his phone was still laying. picking it up, he opened the camera and took candid photos of the two of you much to your objection.

“tetsurō, take them of yourself! i don’t wanna be in it!” you hissed trying to avoid the focus of his phone. “but i need my makeup artist in the photo with me, or who else is going to take credit?” he whined holding you close to him as you struggled to break free from him.

you sighed and gave into his demands, leaning on his chest as he smiled smugly, aiming the front lens of his phone at the two of you. he smirked as you gave a soft smile for the first few shots. the others were just him pulling obnoxious faces as you could be seen sighing in the photos.

scrolling through the photos, kuroo smiled to himself as he selected the ones he wanted to send to bokuto before choosing one to set as his new lockscreen.

“why that one!” you complained as kuroo set a particular photo as his new lockscreen. he was seen smirking in the photo as you pulled a sympathetic expression except the sympathy for certainly for yourself.

“because,” he smiled, switching his phone off and back on again to admire the new wallpaper. “you’re so pretty in this one.”

you scoffed but let the butterflies in your stomach go off anyway. “you say that about every photo.”

“because it’s true. you think my grandparents raised a liar?” he teased, enjoying the reactions from you as he teased.

“no, but they somehow raised an idiot.” you shot back, settling back into his lap as your arms looped over his shoulders.

“yet, who’s the real idiot, falling for one themselves?” he smirked, hands finding home around your waist once more.

“shut up.” you mumbled, leaning in close once more. you studied his eyes once more before looking over his whole face. yeah, you really did fall for an idiot. your idiot.

leaning in, you pressed your lips onto his once more as his hands travelled up your back holding you closer to him. pulling away, you sighed softly before pressing one last kiss to his cheek.

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from kissing me again.” he proudly stated as you rolled your eyes before smiling adoringly at him.

he was an idiot, he was a pretty one at the very least and the one you indefinitely had in fact fell for.

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