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thosewickedlovelies · 2 years

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Coping Mechanisms | Dieter Bravo x afab!Reader

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Dieter Bravo finds you in an uncharacteristic state, but he’s an adaptable guy. It's a night you never anticipated for yourself.

Tags: Offscreen drug and alcohol use, and descriptions of being Affected (but not so drunk you’re incoherent). SMUT: semipublic sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), there is a mirror 👀, Dieter has absorbed some of his dom/me’s teachings, uhh p*ssy slapping, ring kink.

Word count: 4,885

Note: whew so this is a little uh. dirtier/messier than my usual smut 😬😳 10/10 recommend writing dieter bravo smut as a coping mechanism 👍🏻

The effects of the ‘drug use’ are probably definitely not accurately depicted as I have never done a Drug, but that’s not really the point of this is it? 🤷🏻‍♀️😘

Masterlist

---

You don’t know what you took. Only that you wanted to forget- wanted to be out of your own head. That you couldn’t stand to sit at home and wallow, drowning in the heavy, hollow sense of defeat yet again.

Not that you’re exactly swimming now, you suppose. But you’re…managing. Floating, if nothing else. Your head filled with cotton candy instead of the tolling of bells, each clang another blow to your self-esteem: worthless. useless. pointless.

You only know that the room is spinning. That the wall you’re leaning on is cool and still, offering a moment of reprieve from the sticky warmth and noise of the party.

Your mouth is so dry.

You frown. It’s too dry, enough so that you can’t just ignore it, which is annoying.

Supporting yourself on the wall, you rotate yourself along your head and shoulder before pushing off. The bathroom is closer than the kitchen, and your cup is empty.

“Oof.” Your path is interrupted; you rebound off a cushy chest you hadn’t noticed come up from behind.

Dieter Bravo frowns at you.

No wonder the chest had been so soft. Dieter Bravo, the unlikely A-lister famous for his hedonistic penchants- the least mentioned but most relatable of which (in your opinion) included the comfiest clothes his considerable money could buy, which he then ‘wore in’ until they were falling apart. Proof of this theory is easy to come by- it’s currently visible in the tiny hole fraying along the stretched-out collar of tonight’s gray t-shirt.

Why is he wearing sunglasses inside and at night? Has he found a way to make those comfy too? The gleam of the party lights on the plastic frames is hypnotizing, pulsing red, purple, green…

Dieter tilts his head down, looking at you over the glasses, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

Had he asked you something? “...What?”

Dieter snorts. “I said, are you on something?”

He leans in closer to examine your face, scrutinizing your eyes, your mouth.

You bend back, affronted- and fearful. Could he tell?

Would you get into trouble? There were always rumors of whether Bravo was clean or not, what his drug of choice was or had been while filming any given movie. Whether his presence in the cast made it easier to deal or buy on set. There had to be almost zero chance that Dieter Bravo would be the one to get you in trouble, but the mere idea…

Dread slithers oily and sick in your chest as the things you fought to escape return, battering at the chemical barrier around your thoughts.

“No, I’m just getting water.” You push off the wall with more effort, only swaying slightly as you swerve around him and navigate to the bathroom. Your brow furrows deeply in a scowl exaggerated by the effects of the alcohol you’d also consumed.

Dieter dogs your steps. “The kitchen is the other way,” he points out.

You open the door with an exasperated flourish. “There’s a faucet in here, too.”

“...Huh.” Dieter sounds vaguely impressed, like such a thing would have never occurred to him.

Water swirls away the brown dregs of Coke in your cup at a turn of said faucet. You roll your eyes, nettled at this man’s interruption of your vibe and the risk, however slim, he represented.

The door closes, and the sudden glare of lights from above the mirror makes you squint.

Well, the glare of one light- two of the three bulbs are out, which you’d find gratitude for once your eyes adjusted.

“What are you doing?”

Dieter is grimacing too, bringing a hand up to shade his eyes, and a smile prods at the corners of your mouth.

You’re on reasonably friendly terms with Dieter thanks to your position on the film crew- one of the grip team. He knows your face if not your name, winking at you the same way he flirts with so many cast and crew members everywhere he goes. You’ve been warned of the infamous question he asks- and how little emotional investment usually lies behind it.

Which would be fine with you, frankly. You don’t understand how so many people claim to have been left broken-hearted by the philandering Dieter Bravo when it’s equally proclaimed that ‘everyone knows’ being propositioned by him never leads to anything deeper.

The man in question shoves his hands in the pockets of his knit cardigan, which rides the line between ‘well-worn’ and ‘dumpy’. He leans his head back against the door, brown hair bristling against white paint, and regards you.

“You’ve never done drugs before.”

The water you’ve half-emptied your cup of roils in your stomach, leaden and nauseous.

“Not here, anyway. At a work party,” Dieter allows. He tilts his head, those unexpectedly observant eyes clinging to you from behind tinted lenses.

It’s not a ‘work party’, strictly- just a crew get-together, letting off steam- but you know what he means.

“What happened?”

The red plastic cup creaks in the clutch of your hands.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You avert your gaze from him, from your reflections in the mirror.

“But you wanna do drugs about it.” His eyes have gone half-lidded, yet they remain on you, watching, watching.

What the hell does he care? “What’s it to you?” you demand.

“Well, if you must know…” Dieter saunters toward you- as much as one can saunter in a space three strides long- and extricates the cup from your hands. He drains the last of the water from it, and you stare at the stretch of his throat, open-mouthed, until he sets it down.

“If you must know,” he says, with a smile that has some awareness sitting up straight inside you, “I was going to ask you a question tonight.”

He drags a knuckle lightly along the length of your jaw, one of his rings leaving a cool trail in its wake. “But if you’re in some kind of..fragile state…maybe I shouldn’t.” Despite his words, Dieter continues easing closer, dipping his chin so his nose brushes your temple, your cheek.

Your eyes must be as wide as your mouth by now. His smell fills your head- a whiff of marijuana from smoke sessions past, the musk of sweat from a day of filming, a stronger layer of something pleasant but artificial. A swipe of deodorant in lieu of a shower, maybe. His presence beckons, looming large and warm, all that softness offering a better kind of oblivion.

“I…” Your hands hover helplessly by his sides, not yet caught up.

“You..?” Dieter raises his sunglasses enough to catch your eye unfiltered, one eyebrow lifting.

“You should,” you whisper.

He grins, and a flash of that old movie star charm appears for just a second.

His sunglasses clatter carelessly to the counter. His fingertips skate up your arms and oh, does that feel nice, like tingling, sugary cloud filling your body again.

Dieter’s hands come to rest on your shoulders. He begins with your name- oh, he does know it- and with effort, you focus.

One corner of his mouth remains curled higher than the other, a trace of amusement at the dramatic redundancy of what he’s about to ask. Dieter looks you in the eye.

“...do you want to have sex with me?”

–

You don’t know how long the two of you have been here.

Here: locked in what you hope isn’t the only bathroom at this party, pressed against the tiled wall, bodies steadily entangling in a slow rhythm that matches the exploratory pace of your kiss.

Dieter crowds into you hungrily, using his whole body to seduce you, as if you hadn’t already answered yes. His teeth nip your lip, your jaw, his tongue sweeping along in the aftermath, the difference like fireworks to the soothing black of night. He moans at the taste of you, the feel of your body writhing in response to his; soft, helpless sounds spill from him so unabashedly that it makes you wonder who needs this more.

Sobriety isn’t fully in your grasp; it comes and goes, a little bit like you’re underwater but don’t know it until you come up each time. Your embrace would likely be considered sloppy to someone with more sense available, but Dieter doesn’t seem to mind, and it feels so good.

You moan freely, loudly, as his tongue laves your pulse point. He slips his hands beneath your shirt, kneading at your skin with his warm, wide hands, and you swear your vision goes white. Your nerves are all singing and crashing into each other, and your knees wobble.

Dieter catches you. He carefully withdraws from the kiss, and your lips chase his, dazed. Your breathing is heavy in a way that you’d probably be embarrassed about if you thought Dieter was in a position to judge.

His brown eyes glitter in the light of the dim orange bulb. They sweep from your own glassy eyes to your kiss-smudged mouth, to where your hands clutch fistfuls of his shirt in attempt to keep him close.

When he speaks, you flinch. You don’t know why; maybe you weren’t expecting him to be able to formulate his thoughts into sentences, or enunciate them in a way that seems to echo in the enclosed space.

“What do you need?” Dieter asks. He says it like an offering; he’s still close enough that his voice slides down your spine like a bead of sweat.

What do you need?

It’s such a different question to the one he asked earlier- what happened?- and so much better. It doesn’t matter what happened; what matters is what he can do about it.

Still…

“To forget.” Your eyes drift shut against the beginnings of shame clogging your throat. Dieter can do what he wants. You wait- for him to do something to you, or tell you what to do, or leave-

A light nudge beneath your chin. A request; a plea. You open your eyes, and Dieter is still there, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze is steady.

The silence pulses like a heartbeat. A strange connection between you that you weren’t expecting, but that you grasp at like a lifeline nevertheless. You can almost read the words scrawled across his pupils. I understand.

He leans in, and you think he’s going to kiss you again. Instead, his lips brush your ear. “I want to remember this next part, though.”

His fingers and lips crawl down your body until he’s kneeling, his nose at the seam in the crotch of your jeans.

“Can I?” Dieter looks up, a smirk toying with his lips. The signet ring on his right hand glints compared to the snap of your jeans, a disk of gold flashing beside copper-black tarnish.

Gaping, you nod.

Dieter Bravo getting a grip on grip team! The tabloid headline, a variation on the many you’ve seen dedicated to Dieter’s exploits, ripples like a bright yellow banner in your mind’s eye. Your friends would never believe it.

Your hands instinctively go to help his, but Dieter bats them away. He seems to enjoy this task, parting your zipper tooth by tooth and pressing his nose to the triangle of fabric revealed beneath, your chest heaving all the while.

Your jeans pool around your ankles, but Dieter makes no move to free them. Instead he digs his fingers into your thighs- his long, thick, fingers- and drags his lips up the sensitive inner flesh. Futilely, you attempt to bury your fingers in the featureless tiles of the wall holding you up. What is he waiting for?

Your muscles judder with tension, flickering and snapping like electricity in overloaded wires.

Dieter, attuned to the body under his palms, looks up from where his tongue was tracing the curve of elastic along your hip.

“It’s the anticipation,” he explains, conversationally, although his eyes gleam. “It makes it all better. Fills your head so it’s all you can think about.”

His fingertips grasp the waistband of your underwear, but roll it down only far enough to run his tongue along the imprint it left in your skin. Your rapid breathing turns into a high-pitched sound.

“...Until all you want to do is beg for relief.”

Dieter’s voice, impossibly, lowers to an even deeper rasp. You’d wonder where he learned this, but you can’t, because the only thing in your head is the hot, wet line of his tongue, drawing shapes on the tiny bits of skin he exposes at a time.

You moan your agreement, and Dieter seems to understand.

He tugs down your underwear in one smooth motion until his hands ring your ankles. The sensation makes you instinctively widen your stance, allowing Dieter, rubbing his face against your calf like a fucking cat, to run his cheek up and along the inside of your leg until you have to lift it over his shoulder with an unbalanced squeak.

“Dieter! Please,” you huff.

Chuckling, he splays one wide palm against the hip not lifted on his shoulder, keeping you upright with surprising strength. “There’s the begging,” he purrs.

You almost fall again as he backs out from under your legs, wondering indignantly where the hell he’s going. Fuck, you’re not steady enough for standing-up foreplay- but as Dieter gets to his feet again, you find yourself very interested in trying if it would mean you get to play with the thick, rigid length swaying prominently beneath his thin pants.

He snags your hands before they can reach him, however, and uses them to guide you into a seat on the counter.

Oh, this you can handle. You keep ahold of him with one hand while the other darts to the back of his head, into his hair, to pull him close again. The strands are soft despite a residual coating of product, the perfect length to fist and tug.

Dieter’s eyes widen slightly as you direct his head, but he seems to relax again when all you do is guide his mouth back to yours. His hands settle on your bare hips- and hold you in place as he slots himself between them.

Your back arches at the feel of him. That rigid length, rock hard and burning hot, deposited directly between the lips of your cunt- which, you realize, as the pressure increases, is wet. Your cheeks flare with heat. It smears and soaks into the flimsy fabric of Dieter’s pants as he rubs himself against you.

Dieter withdraws to suck in air. He looks down, and his mouth opens as he catches sight of the dark patch on his pants. “Fuck,” he croaks eagerly.

He drops to his knees so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t bang himself on something. But then he’s easing up one of your feet to rest on the counter, utterly splaying you for him, and arousal erupts between your thighs, thoroughly sweeping away any other concerns.

Your bare sex seems to hypnotize him- a specimen pinned open and on display. “Hold on to the counter, okay?” Dieter doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t even glance at you, before he’s eating your cunt like it’s his new favorite snack.

A strangled keen bursts from you, cut off almost before it starts, but your lip soon stings where you bite it to keep the sounds in. God, if you had known Dieter could use his mouth like this- all slithering tongue and sucking at your clit amid sounds of relish- you would have propositioned him first. He shoves his tongue into where you ache and you nearly leap off the vanity.

Dieter chuckles. “I said hold on, sweetheart. Is this what you need?” His tongue teases your entrance again.

Your grip on the counter is almost cutting off circulation to your fingers. “I am holding on!”

Dieter’s right hand is splayed on your lower belly, his thumb poised above your clit. Your gaze skitters down, lingers where the gold ring on his index finger is a cool indent in your flesh.

He notices.

“Ohhhh.” That hand moves, fingertips fluttering a taunting dance down toward where his mouth just was. “I’ve seen that look before.”

Dieter takes one of the rings off his left hand and places it on the middle finger of his right. The thick silver band and large stone seem flagrant and crude next to the simplicity of the matte gold signet. Regardless, the sight of both of them on fingers so near to where you’re all but flayed open, raw and slick and throbbing, makes you swallow hard around the desire ballooning inside you.

He makes soothing sounds as he eases first one, then the second finger into you. “You’d be surprised at how many people are into these.”

Dieter reflexively tries to wiggle his fingers in demonstration, but the first two are, of course, buried inside you, so it doesn’t have the usual effect. He watches your arousal leak and glisten onto the metal bands decorating them, spreading like some kinky polish, then looks back up at you.

“Or maybe you wouldn’t be.” Dieter grins, a touch of smugness crooking its shape.

You’re too far gone to care. The rings at the base of his fingers add an increased pressure at your entrance, a cool, unyielding demand, and you’re already addicted to the sensation. Whines bubble from your throat as you cant your hips, trying for more.

Dieter hums. “Oh right, sorry.”

And then his mouth is on you again, wet and swirling over your clit, and his fingers move, the hard metal bands a continuous threat- one slippery stretch away from fitting inside you. If Dieter is bothered by licking his own rings, he doesn’t show it, only spears his tongue where you moan the loudest. And you do moan- nobody has knocked on the door yet, so you give up on listening for intrusions and allow the banks to burst on the pleasure flooding from where Dieter laps at you.

Does drinking make it easier or harder for you to come? You can’t remember, but it’s probably harder. Your head is still in a sluggish spin, blurring all the wonderful sensations, but a cramp in your thigh is becoming hard to ignore.

“Dieter,” you mumble. You risk moving one hand to nestle it in his hair and tug.

“Mmm?” The sound is lazy, hazy. Bliss clouds Dieter’s face as he cracks one eye open, his mouth and fingers slowing.

“I want you.” You pull upward on his hair, gently, and lift him to standing again.

He carelessly wipes his sleeve across his mouth, clearing most of your mess. But you can still taste it when he kisses you, the unmistakable tang, can smell it when his still-damp fingers- and rings- come up to cradle your neck.

Dieter kisses you, thorough and languid despite the needy half-sounds that catch in his throat and the way his other hand splays on your back to keep you arched into him.

“You want me to fuck you like this?” he murmurs. It would be easy- only a moment’s transition from your current position.

“Or do you want me to bend you over?”

The image bursts in your head: the one dingy bulb making an orange shimmer of the sweat on your bodies, bare and conjoined in an obscene tableau. Imagined sensation follows: the commanding clutch of Dieter’s huge hands on your hips as he fucking plows into you, losing yourself in the stretch of taking (what feels like) his sizeable cock. Maybe you’ll have to lift a leg on the counter to get him in all the way…

“Fuck.” Your voice is weak.

But there’s no question. “Bend me over.”

Dieter chuckles, a sound shaded with intrigue. “I like wherever your mind just went.”

When he helps you off the counter and turn around, you see what he means. Your eyes are still glazed over, your jaw slack, and heat floods your cheeks at your obvious desperation.

But Dieter holds you flush against him, his fingers flexing against your skin, gazing with eyes huge and awestruck at your reflections.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he groans, mouthing at your shoulder over your shirt. His hands twitch upward beneath the hem. “Can I take this off? Wanna see you while we do it.” He’s rutting his hips against you like an animal, helplessly.

He’s no better off than you. Your insecurity vanishes. “Fuck yeah, if you do too. Wanna feel your skin.”

Your words are an eager jumble as you clumsily spin to help him. Fabric pulls and drops. Dieter’s loose pants slide right off his hips, and you were right about his size; you actually lick your lips at the sight of him. His dick is flushed ruddy and readily (flatteringly) spurts precum when you grasp it. You weren’t the only one to leave a damp patch on his pants, it seems.

“Mmnnn, turn around again, please.” It’s Dieter begging you now, but not a cell of you is asserting itself at the moment, and you obey his plea-command without thought.

Under the orange bulb of the mirror your bodies gleam, just as you’d imagined. Dieter devours the sight of you, his eyes still wide.

“Fuuck, yeah.” He palms your tits, experimentally tweaking your nipples and grinning at the way you squirm and whimper. You can't decide if sober-you would want to slap him (for grinning) or you (for being so damn susceptible) more. It seems like Dieter is regaining some of his discipline, but in the next moment his cock nestles against your ass; he spasms, and in the next second it’s between your legs.

Eyes a little wild, Dieter watches the head of his cock appear between your thighs in the mirror, coated and gleaming with your slick, and his mouth hangs open.

Fuck. You’re never going to be able to see his shocked face on a screen again without thinking of this moment- without feeling the silken skin and stiff, fever-hot length of his cock insinuating itself in the mess he made of you.

Your breath coming short, you lean forward, bracing your hands on the counter. “Dieter,” you manage. You won’t even be able to say his name on set anymore without thinking of all the different tones in which you’ve stuttered it tonight.

Your shift in position changes the angle at which his cock catches on your entrance, and Dieter’s head snapped down, riveted to the sight. At the sound of his name (in such a gorgeously consumed tone), he looks up.

“Oh shit, yeah.” He adjusts his grip, working the head of his cock at the molten give of you- the place where you clutch at him so desperately.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

With no further ceremony Dieter sinks into you, and the pressure is divine. You literally feel your walls stretch to accommodate him, and a throaty moan rips from you as you give yourself completely to sensation.

Your eyes close. At first there’s only him- only Dieter and the sweet ache of his cock, his guttural sounds and hot breath in your ear. Only his hands, big and careful as he holds you in place, as he eases himself closer to you, to the incredible feeling.

A few short, tentative thrusts, that despite their slowness make your brow crumple and your mouth open. Dieter whines, a barely-there sound strained from him.

Your head drops back and Dieter gently turns it toward him, lips seeking yours. It’s a tender kiss until he starts to move in earnest, thrusting deep and sharp, and then it’s simply a direct line of filth from your brain to his mouth as you spill pleas and curses and vulnerable little whimpers that you think you’d have rather died than let any other partner hear.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

You obey, turning your head to meet his gaze in the mirror. Dieter’s brown hair is tufted and mussed beyond its normal craftedness, but it only adds to the stunning vision he makes, with his arms and shoulders unexpectedly defined and his eyes full of fire as he works.

“Mm, there you are, so fucking pretty. You look so good like this, feel so good like this. You okay?”

His question almost blends in with the rest of his vocalized stream of consciousness. Are you okay? Pleasure rocks you in unceasing waves, jolting up your spine with every hungry kiss of his mouth on your neck, at every strike of his hips. His cock is shoving into something incredible, and if you were in your right physical state you probably would have fallen apart by now- but as it is, elbows buckling while you hold yourself up, all you can do is take it. Accept whatever Dieter gives you, this blissful, drawn-out torture of hanging on the edge.

Dieter reads this in the pained furrow of your brow in the mirror. He noses your ear. “I’m not gonna leave without making you come, sweets. You need something more?”

His fingers itch toward your mound. The same ones that he had obligingly beringed and fingered you with earlier now hover over your clit, waiting, along with his cocked eyebrow, for your response.

Dieter banks the pace, though not the depth, of his thrusts.

“Trust me,” he husks.

Scratch whatever you said earlier, you’re not telling this story to anyone.

You nod.

His hand comes down. Dieter slaps your clit, and although it isn’t painful you gasp at the sensation, bright and electric, sizzling through you in a way you could never anticipate. Shocked, your legs jerking, you try to close your thighs but you can’t, because Dieter is holding you in place and the cabinet is in the way of your knee-

He slaps your cunt again. Your head drops, air punching from your chest on a strangled sound. All your lower muscles tighten.

“Mm, I felt that,” Dieter grits. “One more?”

Your breathing comes short and fast, everything in you winding up tight. One more? You can feel the end rising in you, thick in your throat- it tastes like him.

It’s less a word than a sound, but the confirmation is there: “Yes.”

Dieter strikes your clit a last time; and like a bolt of lightning to a house of cards, you collapse. He moans as you come, hips ratcheting again at a furious pace, stroking something inside you that bursts to life with your climax.

It’s not as earth-shattering as some you’ve had. But damn, does it do the job, searing your mind clean of everything but the euphoria tingling through every limb. Dieter comes at exactly the right moment, shoving his hips into yours and wringing a last, delicious shudder from somewhere deep within you. His arms enwrap your whole body, one around your hips and the other up between your breasts- as much to hold you to him as to hold you up, period.

Dieter is still panting in your ear, making these unfairly sexy little sounds as he clings to the last flutters of pleasure. His incongruous strength plus those noises are almost enough to wind you up again- maybe if it weren’t for the film of sweat on your skin and the sudden exhaustion that's demanding a prompt collapse into bed.

With a flutter of his fanlike eyelashes, Dieter returns to himself. The dopey- crooked- charming grin that turns his mouth is the most recognizable expression you’ve seen on his face tonight.

He burrows a sigh into your neck. “Good?” he murmurs.

His breath tickles; it pulls a drunken giggle from you. “Good,” you confirm.

“Good.” He appears covertly satisfied, but not in the suddenly distant or obnoxiously masculine way you've experienced from the occasional man previously. It’s strange, but you don’t get a chance to comment before he’s easing out of you and hunting for clothes, rambling sheepish assurances of birth control and STI testing as he goes.

It’s touching, and pulls your head back toward the real world in a way that makes you want to cry- in a pleasant, cathartic way, as if at the end of a feel-good movie.

Dieter stops you before you can reach for the door. Curiosity rises on your lips- but then he’s kissing it away at the same unhurried pace with which he began; so gently and yet so impossibly thoroughly that you’re stunned, unable to pull enough air into your lungs.

You’re lightheaded by the time he pulls back. A bit of that post-orgasmic peace returned, to cushion your spirit for the way home.

Dieter’s smile softens when he sees your eyes round and questioning. He cups your cheek one last time; it’s unintentional, but the graze of his rings recalls a faint heat to your face.

“I know what it’s like to want to get out of your head,” he murmurs. “But I’m a healthier coping mechanism than drugs.”

The hole at the neck of his shirt looks bigger than it did before you yanked it off him. You fixate on this tiny detail, until another movement diverts your attention.

Dieter Bravo, his handsome features more sincere than you've ever seen them, holds out your phone. A contact profile under the same name glows on the screen.

“Call me next time?”

---

Post A/N: Yes i did google “film crew jobs” to come up with the funniest tabloid headline, and I did amuse myself 😂😌

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #the bubble fic #the bubble #dieter bravo/reader #dieter bravo/you #dieter bravo

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demon-blood-youths · 6 months

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The Misadventures of The Pheonix and The Shadow Chimera Sorcerers Part 5 - Finger Food || Drabble

Hi everyone. This is part 5 of stories involving Daichi and Megumi dealing with shingenans. This is for my rper and good friend, @the-silver-peahen-residence. This drabble is inspired by a youtuber, RG33 and this video of his!

---- Parts ---

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

----- Warning ---

Death

Hilary

Violence.

Cursing.

Ridiculousness

----- Summary -----

Megumi, and Daichi have a mission to retrieve one of Sukuna's fingers with Yuji and Nobara. Along the way, they fought curse users and cursed spirits to obtain it and secure it. However...a tragedy happened after the chase was concluded?!

---------

The first-year students received a mission from Gojo regarding Sukuna's finger. Daichi is brought on board and is brought up to speed that Sukuna must not be taken or consumed by any curse spirit.

Daichi knows what Sukuna is capable of. Like slapping him for the sake of discipline. Daichi makes sure to help out as best as he can. The location of the finger is a shrine near a zoo and a fair.

But the place there is unguarded making Daichi wonder why they're no guards there as they got there. They came to an answer when a group of curse users tried to ambush them. They belong to some cult.

Daichi, Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara combated the curse users while making sure the finger is out of their hands. Not only curse users but cursed spirits as well. Megumi and Nobara were playing hot potato with their fingers away from the curse users while Yuji keeps getting in the way by beating them up. The curse users were being outdone by the students.

"Daichi!" Megumi yelled as he had Totality and Nue combating the curse users. "Right!" Daichi quickly grabs the case and runs away. Daichi ran so fast while creating flame walls to hinder the curse users from chasing him while shooting fire arrows at any curse spirits. Eito makes sure to keep him thinking on his feet as he signals with a siren whenever any cursed spirit or curse user is nearby.

Daichi enters the fair. So far, the fair is closed at this time so this is fine. He uses the amusement rides to throw the curse users off their game. He even went into the house of mirrors before getting out of there. He is in the zoo and he can tell he's in the zoo due to the smell and the growling noises.

If there's anything he knows about animals. Animals are sensitive to anything of the supernatural. He decides to climb through the trees, passing the monkey exhibit, the panda bear, and the llamas. And then he got shot in the back, making him fall into one of the zoo enclosures. Shit.

He hits the ground, making him groan, and Eito tweets worriedly. Daichi slowly comes to and sees a punk-like curse user holding a blade above him.

"Die! You Jujutsu Sorcerer scum!" He laughed. "MMAAAA!" A huge bleat is heard as the curse user is pushed into a ditch by a horned friend. Daichi blinks to see a goat in front of him, hearing a cowbell as the goat looks at him.

"What the hell?!" A curse user is getting back to the surface but Daichi fires off a fireball hitting the enemy directly and sending him back to the ditch, beaten, burned, and unconscious.

"Whew. Thought I was a goner!" Daichi said as Eito tweeted happily. He smiles and looks at the goat, he pets it. "Thanks, man! I owe you!" He goes to pet the goat. There is a name tag around his neck.

"Wilson, huh? That's a cool name!"

The goat bleats happily, nuzzling against the stroking of this sorcerer.

"Okay! Shoot! Where's the finger?!" Daichi looks around and sees the case on the ground. "Nice! Got it!" He got the case and got out of the goat enclosure. "Thanks for the help!"

"DAICHI!" He sees his friends come over to him.

"Guys! Hey! Not to worry, I'm good! How about you guys!"

"We beat those losers!" Nobara said proudly. "They weren't a match for us!"

"Yep!" Yuji said in agreement.

"The curse users are defeated," Megumi said. Daichi nods.

"Do you have the finger?" Megumi asked. Daichi nods as he has the case. "Sure do!" He smiles. Megumi nods, "Good. Give it here."

"Alright! Looks like we beat up that cultist and got Sukuna's finger. Good work, man!" Yuji congrulates Daichi to which the sorcerer blushes a little. "Thanks man...but it's thanks to that goat, Wilson! He help save me from that curse user!"

"For reals?" Yuji asked, blinking as he looked at the goat while a curse user is still unconscious and still twitching in the ditch. Daichi nods. "Right?"

"Thanks Wilson!" Yuji laughed to which the goat bleat loudly. Nobara laughs and looks excited, "Let's head to the hot springs!" Nobara grinned.

"Yeah!" Said the three. But Megumi blinks when opening the case to make sure, "Daichi...."

"Yeah?"

"It's not here," Megumi said. The three froze.

"Wait what?"

"The finger." Megumi frowns. Daichi looks confused and checks the case, his eyes widen as the case has nothing in it. No finger. "But it was inside, I swear. It didn't open!"

"Relax. Don't panic." Megumi replied. "Did you drop the box when fleeing from those curse users?" He asked. Daichi begins to think hard. Really hard. "Well they blasted me from behind and I fell into one of the animal enclosures. It had a goat named Wilson. A petting zoo. Like I said, I was almost done for until Wilson headbutted him into the ditch and I took the guy out."

"Then that...would mean...??" Megumi trails off.

"BAA~!"

Everyone looked at the zoo exhibition where the goat is. Nobara blinked at this. "Uhhh...guys..." She points and all three boys widen their eyes to see the goat is holding something in its mouth. Sukuna's finger.

'Oh no!!' Yuji started.

"Maaa!" the goat bleated.

Don't you stand there, brats!" A mouth forms on Yuji's cheek, "DO SOMETHING! THE GOAT IS GOING TO EAT THE FUCKING FINGER! YOU CANNOT LET THAT THING EAT MY FINGER!' There is panic in Sukuna's voice that startles Yuji. This is a first.

"Totality!" Megumi summoned his divine dog but it was too late. The goat is now munching on the finger to everyone's horror as everyone had their jaws dropped and stupified expressions as they watched the goat eat the finger. Even Sukuna watched this with pure horror.

"WILSOOON! NOOOOOOOO." Yuji yelled as the goat named Wilson swallowed the finger. Daichi drops to his knees while Yuji can't believe what he's seeing. He doesn't know if he should laugh or cry. After the goat consumes the finger nothing happens as a moment passes. Nothing happened much to everyone's surprise.

"I guess it doesn't affect animals?" Daichi chuckled nervously.

Then cursed marks on the goat appeared before he bleated loudly, beating his hooves against the ground.

"Oh you have to got to be kidding me," Megumi groaned, facepalmming. And then the students felt it. A wave of rage from an ancient cursed spirit. But it wasn't from the goat.

"Daichi....Pheon-X."

The voice sends chills down the three students' spines. The overwhelmingly evil mixed with anger. Daichi slowly looks over to Yuji who has now cursed marks on his face and a lower pair of red eyes opens. Except this wasn't Yuji. It's Sukuna, the King of Curses.

And he is pissed off.

"Kisho...Hashimoto."

Hearing his real full name uttered from the King of Curses's lips and seeing the popped viens, Daichi knew what was coming so he booked it out of there. He ran as fast as he could for dear life with Eito in his arms. Sukuna is on his ass immediately.

"DAICHI! GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK HERE, YOU SONVAOFBITCH! HOW DARE YOU ALLOW LIVESTOCK EAT ONE OF MY FINGERS?!"

"I"M SORRY! I THOUGHT THE FINGER WAS INSIDE THE CASE!"

"YOU THOUGHT WRONG! HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO FUCK IT UP THIS BAD?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME?!"

"NO, I SWEAR!"

"YOU HAD ONE JOB! ONE FUCKING JOB, YOU SHITTY BRAT!"

"COME ON! AT LEAST THE CURSE USERS DIDN'T HAVE IT!'

"HOW IS THAT ANY BETTER?!"

"CUT ME SOME SLACK!"

"LIKE HELL I WILL!"

Good thing Taz isn't here. Her cursed spirit; Kinie would have joined in the fun. "We need to contain this," Megumi said. "We have to call Gojo-sensei!"

"Huh?! For one goat? Even with one Sukuna's finger, it can't be that bad." Nobara said. The goat bleats loudly, and a rock is slashed into pieces. Yeah... bad is an understatement. More like a disaster.

"Yeah...let's call the sensei," Nobara said, sweatdropped.

Then they see Sukuna come back, dragging Daichi with a bump on his head and imaginary swirls in his eyes. The flame sorcerer repeats his apologies as he is stunned and dizzy.

"Okay! Time for your punishment." Sukuna goes to pick up Daichi and throws him into the enclosure with the goat. "Hup!"

Nobara and Megumi were stunned. Eito squawked angrily and started to peck Sukuna, but he was thrown into the enclosure as well.

"Sukuna! What the hell?!" Megumi yelled.

"He would be fine! It's just one finger." Sukuna cleaned his ear. "Hey, you brat! If you don't want to die! Kill the goat!"

"HUH?!" Daichi gasped, "You want me to kill Wilson?!" Daichi asked now horrified. Sukuna laughs. "That's how you get the finger, dumbass!"

"B-but...I can't kill an innocent animal."

"Too bad! It's your fault for not checking!" Sukuna tells him. Daichi starts to cry.

"Tick..tock...Kisho." Sukuna grinned so wickedly as the goat now saw him and beat evilly, walking towards him. Megumi walks to the railings and says, "Daichi! It's okay! Just do it!" Megumi tells him.

"But!"

"JUST DO IT!" Megumi shouted.

Daichi cries, shedding tears as he fires off a huge fire arrow at Wilson.

----- 15 minutes later -----

Daichi is mourning the death of Wilson the Goat with tears in his eyes. Yuji Itadori, now taken back control of his body from Sukuna, comforts the chunbiyo sorcerer. They got the finger after Daichi exorcised Wilson.

"There, there, there. " Yuji tells him. "No need to be so hard on yourself, Daichi. You tried your best."

"But..but...I killed Wilson, Yuji. I am a horrible person." Daichi sniffles. Eito coos him by nuzzling against his cheek.

"If it makes you feel any better. I swallow the Sukuna's finger to save Fushigoro. It was kind of my fault because I took the case for my occult club back at my former school." The pink-haired teen explained with a chuckle. Daichi sniffles. Megumi came forward, "If it is any consolidation, I followed Yuji and only have the case and not the finger. To be fair, the elders aren't good at hiding the fingers in secure places. This is one of these places." He sighed.

"Oh okay..."

"Anyway..." Megumi sighed. "Let's go back."

"But...but....we need to hold a funeral!" Daichi sniffled making everyone pause.

"Daichi...it's just a goat," Nobara tells Daichi.

"It's not just a goat! I have known Wilson for my entire life. He saved my life and sacrificed himself for the mission!"

Sukuna can't resist rolling his eyes inside Yuji's head. Is he serious?! Oh brother!

"Daichi...you have known this goat for.... five minutes." Megumi stared at him like he lost his mind. Yuji shakes his head, "What are you talking about, Megumi! We gotta hold a funeral for Wilson. Wilson didn't have a proper death. He should at least have a proper burial!"

Oh my god. Megumi groans. "Fine!"

Wgen they return to the campus, Gojo asks what happened and looks worried to see Daichi looks grief-stricken while being comforted by Yuji and Nobara. Megumi explains what happened.

"Oh Kisho...no need to be hard on yourself, my boy! You did the right thing to alleviate the suffering of an animal! If it makes you feel any better! I fed a chicken fry to a goat once back in my student days." Said Gojo patting him on the shoulder.

"What happened to it?" Nobara said.

"Frank died," Gojo stated. "Exploded. Apparently, the chicken fry from Burger Queen is really dangerous to animals and curses. Who knew!"

Daichi cried even more.

"Gojo-sensei!" Yuji yelled as he couldn't believe what he heard while hugging a crying Daichi and rubbing his back like a big brother would. Gojo hands his hands up, "Sorry, sorry! Not a good comparison!"

"And now Daichi and Yuji want to hold a funeral for it," Nobara said. Sukuna groans as his mouth forms on Yuji's hand, 'It's just a damn goat, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"IT'S NOT JUST A GOAT! HE IS WILSON!" Daichi cried. "HE DIED FOR YOU AND YOUR SINS!!"

"Yeah! Wilson died for you, Sukuna! Have some heart, would you?" Yuji is in agreement before Sukuna growls,"Screw this! I'm going to sleep!" Then the mouth disappears on Yuji's cheek.

Megumi rubs his temples. 'Why me...' Just why me!

And so...they held a funeral for a goat named Wilson. Gojo helped out in doing an eulogy for him much to Megumi's dismay while the class attended including Taz who is completely confused but goes along with it and offers her condolences.

Sure...an animal has died but was it really needed?! For Daichi's mental state, sure. He hopes the next mission isn't that much bad.

Megumi hopes!

R.I.P Wilson.

To be continued??

#ic #thesilverpeahenresidence #The Misadventures of The Pheonix and The Shadow Chimera Sorcerers || Drabble #thesilverpeahenresidence ( the cursed one yet kind soul yuji itadori )#thesilverpeahenresidence ( the witch with the hammer and nails nobara kugisaki )#thesilverpeahenresidence ( the sorcerer of ten shadows megumi fushigoro )#daichi pheon x the chūnibyō sorcerer #tasmaniandevil #The Misadventures of The Pheonix and The Shadow Chimera Sorcerers

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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wanna be yours part IIII | mcu ; p.maximoff

A/N ; Whew, shit. Okay, listen.. This one is intense -as the previous 3 BUT BUT.. hear me out. A cute lil lunch date situation. Where they're talking a little more and Pietro isn't being all weird and broody. I mean, he still is because the poor bastard is gobsmacked by cupid right now but anyway, i digress. This idea was cute so when it popped up, I rolled with it a little. I have other cute plans too in light of the plot development that is Stark!Reader and Pietro under the same roof at the towers currently, I can't wait either, holy shiiit.

Pairing ; Pietro Maximoff x Stark!Fem reader.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; this is set after AoU with the caveat that Pietro obviously didn't die. That the Stark Tower has been rebuilt and apparently, for the time being, the team -and Stark!reader, will be cohabitating and also, this only very loosely miiight even halfway follow the timeline of the MCU in general with any changes I see fit. I'm writing this in the pretense that Pietro was gravely injured and as a result, he's currently recovering (rebuilding his superspeed completely as well as some other things). Other parts to this can be found I-here II-here III-here by clicking. It is.. definitely advised to read those first and then come back here.

Tag List ; @beardedbarba and @nos4ra2 are the only people on the taglist . if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including my MCU content, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; holy shit.. the sexual tension -and Pietro being a poor broody bastard in love, are real. There's a lil cuteness too. Just to yannow.. break up the tension and intensity.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

Translations, if any ; „Mi-a furat inima”. - she stole my heart + "Când am văzut-o, a fost ca și cum totul în jurul meu... s-a oprit." - “ When I saw her it was like everything around me just…stopped.”

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

Today was different. Today when he passed the little dance studio down the hall from the workout room, you weren’t alone. No, you had about 10 little girls present, all ranging in age from 6 to at least 13. There was an older woman present, scowling at Pietro as she shut the door firmly in his face. But Pietro wouldn’t be deterred and he made his way to one of the full wall windows towards the end of the little rectangular shaped room, peering inside.

Watching you as you helped the youngest of the little dancers with her form. Chuckling to himself as he rubbed his chin in thought. And this is where Bucky Barnes found him.

“Kid, we’ve had this discussion. Stark isn’t even gonna let you breathe her air. Why can’t you just find another gal, huh?” the older super soldier held Pietro’s gaze but only barely. Pietro kept stealing glimpses into the little room at you, he couldn’t help himself and it was a compulsion at this point. Bucky chuckles to himself and steps into the path of the young Sokovian’s view. He folds his arms across his chest and clears his throat. “You gonna answer that, Speedy?”

Pietro shrugs. “Because I don’t want another girl.” he admits, his words trailing off at the end. “And I don’t care what Stark thinks of it, either. She is…” he rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me, kid. Look, all I’m trying to do is prevent you from gettin strangled by an overprotective father, alright? Just tell me, kid. ‘S not like I’m gonna tell anybody else.”

Pietro’s antsy. One, because he doesn’t enjoy standing still for long at all and it’s almost impossible to do most of the time thanks to his super human physiology, and two, because he doesn’t enjoy explaining himself to anybody. And he really doesn’t even know how to begin explaining this. But the super soldier blocking his view at the moment isn’t going to let up until he’s gotten his answer, so Pietro finally responds.

„Mi-a furat inima”.

Bucky rubs his chin. He chuckles quietly. “She did, huh?”

Pietro nods. Chuckles quietly and then he continued, "Când am văzut-o, a fost ca și cum totul în jurul meu... s-a oprit."

“This isn’t some little game to you, huh?” Bucky questions, searching the younger speedsters eyes for any hint that he might be up to something. Given the dubious way that himself and the Maximoff twins entered the fold, he’s just trying to look out for the younger male. They’re kind of the outsiders in the situation.

When he doesn’t see any sign of his first suspicions being true, he takes a deep breath. “Okay, alright. But if you don’t listen to anything else I tell ya kid, listen to this. Stop lurking around all silent and broody. See, women think they want somebody mysterious and broody but really all most of ‘em want is for the guy to be himself and not be a jackass towards ‘em. The whole lurker thing you’ve got going on is..” Bucky chuckles as he drags the metal hand over his head, “Kinda fucking creepy, alright?”

Pietro nods and he mulls it over.

Stealing little gifts worked when he wasn’t looking for anything serious. The only problem with that whole idea was that he wanted something serious this time. And he wanted to make that known right off the bat. But his sister, Natasha and Bucky all made very good points individually. And they all seemed to agree that the lurking thing just wasn’t getting him what he wanted, and it definitely wasn’t getting him what he wanted any faster.

To quote his twin, you were torn between curious, lusting after him and deeper down, being just a little scared or uncomfortable whenever he tended to hover and lurk wordlessly.

“C’mon. We’re here to train, punk. Not lurk around outside a dance studio.” Bucky encouraged the younger male, nodding in the direction of the gym.

“Does this mean you are on my side then, Barnes?” Pietro questions warily.

Bucky mulled it over and shrugged. But in a firm tone he added, “If you make me regret this kid, so help me God..”

Pietro takes a deep breath and he taunts Bucky as he takes off in a blue streak blur down to the weight room leaving Bucky to swear in the middle of the hallway.

You caught yourself distracted on more than one occasion as you tried to lead the younger girls you’d been tasked with taking into a class. And this only made the grim-faced old woman grumble in frustration or roll her eyes and throw up her hands in annoyance. By the end of the little class you’d been tasked to lead you were at least halfway sure that you wouldn’t be asked again, so it came as a surprise when the woman lingered a minute or two after the younger girls had left.

“You handled yourself reasonably well. With a little work you could even be kind of good. Not good like me but good.” the woman’s blunt opinion had you biting your cheek just to keep from saying something in a moment of annoyance. It wasn’t as if you asked her to stick around, after all. You managed a smile, you thanked her politely. And the second she was gone from the studio, you shut the door and sat down on the floor, your back leaning against it.

There was a quiet knock at the door and you grumble quietly to yourself as you stand and pull the door open. Pietro whizzes past and he’s behind you, chuckling quietly as he leans against the barre along the one long mirrored wall.

You pout a little, blowing at sweaty strands of hair sticking to your forehead. Your chest is heaving and Pietro crosses the room. He remembers what Bucky warned him about and the conversation he had with both his sister and Natasha as well.

He remembers that you’re very.. Unsure of him. Attracted to him the same as he is to you, but unsure of him because he just seems to lurk quietly. And he’s always touching, staring.

This is what prompts him to speak up when he can finally manage to stop staring at you. “You look angry.”

You laugh. “Not really. A little annoyed, if anything.” you’re shocked because this is more than Pietro usually says to you for the most part. He steps closer, brows knit together in concern. “Why?” he asks quietly. If there’s anything he can do to ease the situation he knows that he’ll go and do it with zero hesitation and that thought both freaks him out and blows his mind.

The speedster is out of his depth here. You -and the way he feels about you, were never things he planned on having happen to him but now that it has, he’s impatient. Desperate, and oh so annoyed at himself for the way you make him feel. The fact that you’re clearly his Achilles heel -and most certainly a distraction, has him in awe and at the same time, it frustrates him because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. At all.

Everyone before you was at best a surface level attraction. Physical. Short. Fleeting. In and out of his life at twice the speed Pietro Maximoff is used to moving normally.

You laugh softly. “Condescending old hag who was in here earlier shadowing the class she twisted my arm to teach. Then she has the nerve to tell me that if I keep up dancing I might be half as good as her. The last time she had her name in lights was probably before Barnes or Rogers took the serum. And she wasn’t ever actually in anything big. She’s awfully full of herself for somebody who never actually made it.” you feel like a bitch for ranting and saying all the things you’ve just said, but the entire tone the older woman took with you just didn’t sit right at all.

You really are your father’s daughter. You’ve never taken kindly to being talked down to.

You apologize to Pietro for the rant and you nod to the door. “Boxing again?”

Pietro shrugs. He chuckles quietly. “It is something to do to pass the time, draga mea.”

You nod, you laugh softly. Wanda might have mentioned that while she enjoyed having idle time to just decompress after all they’d been through, Pietro was clawing at walls. He didn’t like having idle hands or an idle mind. “It’s because they won’t send you out, right?”

Pietro frowns but he nods. Neither of you seem to notice that the space between your bodies is growing smaller and smaller by the second until you feel the firm and the searing heat you’ve come to affiliate with the speedster you’re pressed against at the moment and the quietest gasp leaks from your mouth before you can stop it. His hand grips your hip and thick, rough fingers dig against the thin fabric of your favorite leotard. You tilt your head to look up at him. You give this teasing little smile. “Will you just like… relax? I thought my father and I were the definition of all stressed with nobody to choke but you’re so tense I half expect you to take flight any second.”

Pietro takes a shaky deep breath. His thumb rolls over the outline of your hip and he swallows hard. “Relax, she says.” he laughs softly.

“Yeah.” you mumble, gulping to try and get rid of the lump as it grows in your throat.

“Are you hungry?” you ask the question quietly after at least five seconds have passed and the tension is so thick, so palpable between the two of you that you can’t take it another second. Pietro thinks it over and gives you that lazy little smirk. The cocky one that currently haunts your filthiest dreams.

“Always, draga mea.” and just the husk in his voice when he answers has you squeezing your thighs together until they ache because there’s this light burning in baby blue eyes that tells you he definitely meant the innuendo hidden in the answer.

The only question you’re left with no answer to is whether this is just a game to him or whether he legitimately wants you. The former seems more likely but the latter… The latter is what you desire most down deep.

Before you can even get out that you know a really good diner down the block, Pietro has picked you up and he’s holding you bridal style in strong arms as the downtown area of your city blazes past you in lightning speed, it’s dizzying. So much so that you have to hide your face in his neck and cling to him. But then it’s still. You’re standing body to body outside of the diner in question and he chuckles.

“Your usual, yes?”

“How’d…” you start to ask him how he knows that but all he gives in response to your half spoken question is one of those cocky little grins and a shrug as he pushes open the door for you and you duck beneath a muscular arm to step into the crowded diner.

The back booth is the one you always sit at. It’s your seat. It’s been your seat since your father found this place when you were around 6 and he was looking for pancakes after a particularly long night filled with lots of alcohol and lots of swearing and throwing things around in his basement lab at the tower. When he found the little obscure diner, he rushed right back home and woke you up despite all the nanny at the time’s protests.

Because the nannies might have been a necessary evil but they have never been as prominent in your life as your father.

You shake the memory from your mind and as you slip into the booth on your usual side, Pietro sinks down to sit right next to you. You bite your lip as you glance up at him. Pietro takes a menu, blue eyes scan the list of all the food offered.

“I think, draga mea…” he smiles at you, “I will get what you always do.” and there’s almost this teasing gleam in his eyes as they fix on you. “Has t’ be good if the little noises you make are anything to go by.”

You laugh softly but your body is burning up.

A muscular arm settles against the booth at your back and his fingertips graze against your shoulders. And yet again, your entire body feels like a raw nerve. Like someone’s dragging a live wire over you and sending electricity throughout.

His eyes catch on the photo of you and your father that you’ve chosen as a lock screen. It’s Christmas when you were 5. The year he got you every single Hot Wheels you even gave a backwards glance to at the toystore. And the biggest race track you’d ever lain eyes on. And Tony Stark wouldn’t be him if he didn’t find some way to make the whole thing even better by taking the track, assembling it on a big table he found at some secondhand store in Brooklyn along with motorizing the entire thing.

Pietro laughs and nods to the photo.

“Daddy’s girl, are you?” he teases gently. Almost affectionately. You stick out your tongue and nod. The waitress comes to take your order and once she’s gone again, Pietro is quiet. Staring at the tabletop like he’s lost in thought.

And he is. Because once again, he’s trying to remind himself that in order to get what he wants, it’s not his speed that will benefit him most this time. It’s slowing down the pace. Actually getting to know you. Proving to you that he wants this to be real and he has no intention to go anywhere. That he’s different than the others that Natasha told him about.

That he wants you and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

Slow is harder for him but in this case, it is a necessary evil.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x stark!fem reader #pietro maximoff imagine #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff fanfic

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corgoship · 1 year

Note

btw you should. tell me more about ALL of them but i will be patient, I wont ask about the secret things yet. y e t. updates on the trip gone wrong fic? or, or, give the Most vague non description of love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling. I know the vagueness, so like. dont even say names or fandoms, just. vibes of it i beg, confuse the masses xoxo mwah ,love you

Ok ok ok you got me. Hold on. I need to pull up the list :))) (long post ahead)

zemo fic part 2 draft - what it says on the tin, the second installement in the Ozymandias series, a story about Steve and Zemo, with lots of hurt Steve to go around. For those of you unaware, this is the first work, which is complete:

The state of the sequel is... undetermined but I am slowly chipping away at it. When I'm in the mood.

one bullet - one of the chapters of the previously mentioned fic that I actually finished and singled out. There's a gun and crying involved, is all I'm gonna say

wips 3 electric boogaloo - i'll be honest this one is a mismatch of drafts for stuff I have already written, like my Steve & Peter fic, and big chunks of trip gone wrong, which brings me to:

Trip gone wrong! That's the working title, but I think I'll settle for "The Racehorse Connection". This story has been almost finished for months - i only need to finish one more chapter and the epilogue... more than 50k is done. Unfortunately whenever I go back to this fic, I get the urge to rewrite it... which would be tedious. Anyway it's focused on Steve and Clint and there's some Hydra and aliens involved. Pretty proud of some of the bits that happen later on. Fond of this piece, if only I could finish it...

dragon rider - my samsteve dragonrider au. Mostly I pop in there to add lore/ideas/plot points instead of writing anything concrete

hurry boy, it's waiting there for you - my!!! Kittycap story!! Which for once is just pure fluff!! Mutual pining and first kiss. The good stuff.

metameowphosis - now we're getting to my breaking bad era huh. I mentioned this a few times and I tag stuff with it. Basically if Kafka's Metamorphosis and Christmas Carol had a baby - Walt is inexplicably transformed into a cat and enlists Jesse's help to turn back. And he learns things along the way. Also pretty fond of this one.

cabroncito - my secret secret messed up breaking bad fic... now with a title, but I'm afraid that's all you're getting :) well, a bunch more info i suppose: it's one of the darkest thing I've written... along with zemo fic, but this one is worse imo... to be completed soonish???

love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling - my gale/walt fic!! Gale fixes him! That's it that's the story. Haven't gotten that much down yet but. I have some ideas.

WHEW okay that covers everything!!! Thank you for being interested i love talking about myself :)))

#asks #love letters #whotheheckitheheck #steve rogers #my fics #personal

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 1 year

Text

3.3.23 Wednesday

12:05 am

Still, up here... Still, will take my shower in a few minutes, simply resting... I still have the windblow trap and I have fear, I posted that on my yesterday's entry here,angels...

It is just weird that old friends are gone, I have a windblow trap and I feel hurt since 2007! It is unfair to control someone's life without asking a permission...

It's ohkay to be a friend but interfering on a secretive way is not a good act for friendship... A true friend will care and only think of good things to a friend... But changing a friend into something that they wanted, is not fair...

Why, a friend will put an agenda to erase my past pages... I just heard that a particular friend and some judgemental people who didn't know me at all are smashing my ego as a woman....Or commenting things that is foul... Like some old fake people said that they pity me coz nobody likes me ever since and I had have no story to tell, and it hurts me so much...

7:50 am

It is weird...Last night during shower my left eye suddenly felt itchy and I felt that something is inside my left eye...

Then this am, it is the first time again to wake up having a morning star/ sleep dust...Which is which but I have literally here.... But I still feel something on my left eye, a sandy feeling... Shit! Is it sore eyes?

8:10 am

Probably a foreign substance such as a small eyelash... whew!

One of my fears these days that I don't have extra in my pockets angels... If in case that I need to see a doctor...

I feel bitterish and hurt since 2007....A group of particular people damage my entire life coz they wanted to interfere on me unfairly...

Then,those interfering people will just drop me like that... As if they are not guilty on me? Totally, unfair!

They need to be responsible angels for interfering on me since 2007...

Plus, I have sciatica/ priformis syndrome that I can't get my MRI... This is bullshit!

They remove my college diploma... They took away or stole my college diploma angels...

They just pull me down probably bunches of undergraduates vs interfering fake friends overly concern on me though college graduate....

They shouldn't stop caring until I can revive to have a new story and own real money... I feel bitter...

I wanna buy starbucks everyday... I wanna see donkey and camel... I wanna have my life back but with maturity....

8:37 am

Plus Lazadah so weird no human being as customer care...

Where is the rice cooker??? I tried tracking... I got this...

This is the disadvantage if not bridging with LEXPH....Coz the delivery group of LEXPH they will regularly update the status on timeline form but on other courier you have to search it on your own...

9:10 am

I feel sad and I still have the windblow trap and it wants me to reveal some old secret coming from mixed fake people such as church of christ.

I was a true friend... Windblow came to me year 2007... Then, I lost social life and I lost xfactor! I feel hurt...

Then, weird movement on me coming from people that are closer and people that I just got along with like in my old religion the church of christ...

My mouth and tongue are holy coz it will not say a thing to damage someone....It's original form...There are so many fake members of church of christ... If I mentioned something it is my observation and conclusion....

It is weird to post here like this "Oliver" my old church of christ member/ churchmate this is just a story now, a story to share here from the past years...That it is weird everyone are on movement on something. Oliver said that Borgy wasn't handsome why do I like him ,he is just wealthy...

This is still probably on my pages on my messenger....Then, I tried investigating the weird cult and I tried streaming and somehow got some people come and go on "Tagged".

Then,I replied on Oliver, huh? Hahaha Borgy Manotoc Marcos is a good looking guy for me... But since Oliver is my churchmate he told me no, he is just wealthy.... End of converstion....But he is married now...

My point Oliver is weird that he came up on my Tagged stream twice, I think and so weird to say here that probably church of christ is my bad hacker here...

11:30 am

I still have the windblow trap and I feel jealous and a big question mark...

If Dra. Mitch is negotiating without my knowledge,I feel super jealous... What was the main point? What will be the point? But I do believe she is at peace....If she did something I don't want her to go up unless I will know everything, I can sense there is a link on me but I can't pin-point...

I hope, I have a good angels with me here... But I really wanna switch religion...

I really wanna leave the hometown... I just need protection on my old partner's....I have so many frustrations for 16 years,since 2007... I feel hurt!

1:15 pm

Still,have the windblow trap... I wanna leave the hometown... I feel bitter... I feel super self-pity...

It is unfair to have a gathering at my back... Most specially when my exes are with some gf's or old friends....Totally unfair...

1:38 pm

I feel jealous coz I lost attention on my rightful category... I used to be pampered or nicely spoiled but I never smash anyone, I don't remember smashing anyone's ego's from the past, even now... I feel hurt... I feel bad...

I wanna leave the hometown and I have windblow trap here...

1:58 pm

I'm calling the attention of my exes please give me protection, something is wrong on the people here in Cavite... Why, my past are all taken away from me? Why, that bad group smashed my ego for 16 years...

youtube

3:08 pm

About Uncle Jun, went to the forest, went back here just to have his lunch and went back to baranggay forest... I still don't like Georgia'z gang for being lifted up by Betsilogz...

I feel self-pity coz of their private car and I wanna leave the hometown... I wanna have some bags and collagen on my feet...

4:24 pm

On behalf of Doc Carol this Mr Vet in the making Mr Sherwin... Intern... According to him just 1 ml of KC shot to be put on the syringe...

John's KC shot annual update.

5:58 pm

I wanna leave the hometown and I don't wanna stay here forever...

Asking my exes please to put a protection on me coz I don't know this windblow trap...

I can't find new partner right now and it made me bitterish and I can't be with judgemental people.

For my exes I hope there is no bad grains of rice... I miss being in the center of pretty faces men and with stability and sanity...

Now, I really wanna leave the hometown...

Just hate the thought of some gf's took away my exes or negotiating something without my approval... It is foul on "girl code rule"....

8:57 pm

It is a stress for me that the rice cooker is not yet here... I hope and pray that LEXPH can help me...

I still have the windblow trap... I feel bitterish and self-pity that I can't find a man enough for me....I feel self-pity... I feel fat and ugly everyday....I can't exist on the rightful place... I wannna get an american looking, English speaking and with stability or if dark-skinned just like the al-maktoum face....

I hate women here in the Philippinea, women who are bad monkey's, stealing my thunder and able to fix themselves.

Next, hating some old friends and some fake monkey's proving that they are mature and upper than me,that's why they are able to have their own family and have kids now, being part of an unfair group since 2007 just to give me an anxiety and mixed-up in life....

It is so bitter-strange... I feel bad.....I feel bad....

9:19 pm

My sciatica is aching...

#Youtube

0 notes

bananaapplewaffle · 1 year

Text

The Rest of the Base SRs + SSR Leona Vignettes

So Much for That Trick (Part One) | Ace - Labwear

Jamil

You highkey fucked up

Why are you working on a catchphrase?

Why do my ghost uncles want mandrakes

Damn whole ass side hustle

Epel knows his way around some dirt, yessire

Not you touching something Ace

…

I’d probs do the same

wait

So Much for That Trick (Part Two) | Ace - Labwear

Not only is this a side hustle

But an excuse to slide through

Mans got in a groove

I mean yeah…you didn’t discuss how things would get cut

Probs gonna be 70/30

Ah.

Here we go.

You fucked up, Ace.

Always on some shit I swear.

Mind if I Tag In? (Part One) | Leona - Dorm Uniform

Alright What is honey doing in this

Leona, on his way to take a nap:

Them: You wanna fight right now?

Welp there goes Jack

Playing by the book

DAMN

WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST

It’s not playing smart if they get caught

Oh is this before Book 2?

Mind if I Tag In? (Part Two) | Leona - Dorm Uniform

Oh, so he doesn’t always spend his time napping

Sometimes he plays solitaire chess!

Oh?

Damn not y’all bout to get got

Them, talking shit on Jack:

Leona and Ruggie: We laugh

Them, plotting against Jack:

Leona and Ruggie: We gottem

NEARLY 30???

NAH NAH NAH

Y’ALL CALLED FOR—

A 30 V 1

AND ITS PROBS MAINLY UPPERCLASSMEN

TO GO AGAINST A FRESHMEN

ALSO Y’ALL DUMMIES DID THIS SHIT IN THE FUCKING HOUSE

OF COURSE LEONA

EVEN IF DIDN’T HEAR IT EALIER

WOULD CATCH WIND ABOUT IT LATER

FUCKEN DUMMIES

Mind if I Tag In? (Part Three) | Leona - Dorm Uniform

LIKE FOR REAL

ALL OF YALL

AGANIST ONE PERSON

Y’ALL LOOK STUPID

THIS MAN AIN’T EVEN THE MAIN CHARACTER

Y’ALL GOT THE WHOLE SQUAD LOOKIN GOOFIE

ON DISPLAY

AND NOW YOU’RE CHALLENGING LEONA MY BELOVED

Leona is Housewarden for a reason

And I really don’t think it’s a Kalim situation

He’s also held this position so—

GIRL

NOT THE UM

I wonder if this was a part of the plan

Or if Leona really said “fuck it”

THEY WHAT

THEY PASSED OUT

And then he let you down in the actually Book

So sorry Jack

He kinda gets better

Will That Be All? (Part One) | Jack - Labwear

Wait, the Shaftlands is a cold place?

Huh

Always gotta do everything ya-damn-self

…

This man’s face is literally neutral

Will That Be All? (Part Two) | Jack - Labwear

And then he shows up in his labwear

Not calling his thickness “rugged”

LOOK AT HIM

THIS BOY CAN WORK

Azul: “Oh fuck…I might actually need to employ him.”

Whew got a little error in the text box here

…

A Brighter Color (Part One) | Kalim - Ceremonial Robes

…

I know Jamil is fuming

Jamil… on point? Non, they’re on fleek.

This is simply not Jamil’s day

A Brighter Color (Part One) | Kalim - Ceremonial Robes

Oh! He ran into Malleus!

Okay so this was after seeing Idia in the courtyard.

And somehow they didn’t once mention it Orientation

Oh! Spoke too soon!

I guess Malleus didn’t hear Jamil then?

YEAH THEY ARE BOOTS

AND THE LOOK RAGGEDY WITH THOSE PANTS

THEY SHOULD HAVE JUST HAD SOME REGULAR ASS DRESS SHOES

Poor Malleus…

Twisted Ramblings

#waffle plays #waffle plays twst

0 notes

triplexdoublex · 3 years

Text

Pornstar

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: rough sex, anal sex, face fucking, gagging, spit, spitting in mouth, slight bondange, golden showers, pissing in mouth, slapping across face, being filmed.

A/N: Shout out to Shawnie ( @heytheregreeneyes) for always letting me use her as my OC and being my best friend. Also Colson isn’t MGK in this, just a pornstar so his personality isn’t as cocky as he usually is. I know I’ve mentioned it before but the sex in this is loosely based off my fave porn star Small Hands AKA Aaron Thompson. Hope this was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think! “Open it, open it!” Your roommate and best friend Shawnie stood before you with a gift bag in hand, shaking it excitedly.

“My birthday’s not even until this weekend,” You laughed taking the bag from her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait? It’s only a few more days.”

“ No please, I’ve kept this a secret for long enough, it’s killing me! Just open it!” She exclaimed. “Plus your gonna need time to prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“C’mom, just open it, open it, open it!!!” She was far too excited. You wondered what it could be that she was so eager to give you. But what you pulled out of the bag just left you with even more questions.

“Thanks???” You said confused, holding up a sexy red lace bra and matching g- string that tied at hips.

“That’s only part of it,” she assured you. “What’s your biggest wish?” She tried to clue you in.

“Ummm paying off all my student debt?” You answered still puzzled. “Did you get me a job as a stripper?” You laughed.

“Okay, maybe ‘wish’ was the wrong word to use … hmmm—oh biggest fantasy!” She corrected herself.

“Oh to fuck my favorite porn star Huge Hands, AKA Colson Baker. You know that — wait … no, no way!” You exclaimed as your friend started frantically nodding her head yes. “Shut up!!! What? You’re kidding. Like how?”

“Look in the bag . There’s more!”

You reached into the bag and pulled out a pass of some kind and read it aloud. “Huge Hands/Colson Baker : Exclusive Access, Porn Star for a Day pass”

“They were super limited, I have no clue how I managed to snag one, but I’m so happy I did! The look on your face right now is priceless!” Shawnie laughed. “It’s probably because you’re the only one I know who’s crazy enough to actually go through with this.”

“I-I don’t even know what to say. I have no words… thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, still in shock. “I’m really about to have the best sex of my life this weekend! On my birthday yet! Have you seen his fucking cock, it’s huuuge!”

“Yes, many times,” Shawnie chuckled , entertained by how pumped you are. “Or did you forget about all the links of his umm ‘work’ you’ve sent me?” Shawnie wasn’t big on porn herself but she was always willing to take an interest in your latest obsessions, no matter what they were. That’s what you loved most about her. “Turn it over, it tells you more about what’s included on the back.”

You did as she suggested, turning the pass over to read more. “Half hour zoom call day before to privately discuss details, and needs/wants of scene; hair and make up; up to one hour of shooting time; and keepsake autographed DVD recording,” you listed off. “You know I’m gonna watch that everyday for the rest of my life, right?”

“I’m assuming you’re gonna make me watch it at least once too, knowing you,” Shawnie laughed.

“Yeah probably,” you laughed as well. “ I got no shame!”

*************

You’re stomach was in knots as you waited for the zoom call to begin; you’d never felt so excited and nervous at the same time. Shawnie was there with you sitting just out of frame, when the ‘bloop’ of the call came through your computer's speakers.

“Hi, Y/N?” Colson questioned.

“Yeah, hi. That’s me!” You did a timid little wave.

“Ok good, just wanted to make sure I got the right person before we get started here. Imagine that … Awkward!,” he laughed, and you instantly began to relax; you could tell he was going to be easy to talk to. “Well, obviously you know what I do , but I’d love to hear a little about you. Says here on your forms you’re a college student?”

“Wait, what forms?” You asked.

“The ones you filled out online with your info and kinks and things you wanted to include in our video when you purchased the Pornstar for a day package,” he answers slightly confused.

“Ohhh, my friend bought me this for my birthday, she must have filled them out.” You responded. “She’s right here. Say hi Shawnie!”

“Hi!” She giggled leaning into frame.

“Hello. Wow this must be some “friendship” he joked making air quotes. “Because this is a very detailed list. You gotta hear this.” He smirks. “Written in the section about what you hope to include in our scene says— and I quote: I want Huge Hands/ Colson to absolutely destroy me. I want him to fuck my throat, my pussy and my ass. I want him to slap me around, and spit and piss in my mouth, and anything else he wants to do to me, I’m all for it.” He choked out a laugh pulling dramatically at the collar of his shirt “Whew, I’m the pornstar here and that’s even got me blushing!”

“Oh my God, Shawnie!” You covered your beet red face.

“What!?, did I lie?” She laughed.

“I mean no, but still. Damn, to hear it out loud like that.” Your eyes bulged.

“So it’s true then?” Colson asked slyly.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” you hid your smile behind your hand, shaking your head in embarrassed disbelief.

“Aye, no need to be embarrassed, we’re gonna have fun tomorrow, I can tell,” he smiled. “I’m especially excited that your interested in Anal. It’s kinda my favorite. I’m assuming you’ve done it before?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Tell him what your ex said!” Shawnie blurted out.

“Oh, boy. I gotta hear this,” he chuckled. “What’d the ex say?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, “I do enjoy it, probably more than regular sex, if I’m being honest,” you admitted. There was no use trying to be coy now. “Uhhh he actually said I could be a pornstar since I can take a hard anal pounding so well.”

“Nice!” He exclaimed. “Girl, after my own heart.”

“Jesus Christ, this conversation has me sweating already,” you chuckled standing up to pull your cardigan off.

“Is that a little tattoo I saw there, peaking out of the top of your jeans?” He asked.

“Yeah, you wanna see?” You unzipped your jeans without waiting for a response and lowered the top of your underwear just enough to show him.

“ The Playboy bunny, huh? How fitting,” he teased.

“What can I say, it was my first tattoo,” you giggled “Seemed like that’s what everyone was getting at the time.”

“What else you got going on down there?” He lifted his head as if trying to see more. “Is that a landing strip?” He asked referring to the thin dark stripe of short curls just barely visible above the band of your lowered underwear. “Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure,” you lowered them further exposing yourself, your inhibition long gone at that point. “This is just how I normally like to groom. I can shave it completely if you prefer?”

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he smiled. “Well, I think I have a pretty good idea now of what you like and what we’ll be getting ourselves into tomorrow. Do you have any questions or anything else you want me to know, before we end the call?”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Shawnie pretty much laid it all out on those forms,” you laughed.

“That she did!” He produced a chuckle as well. “I meant to ask earlier, but, since she knows so much about your kinks and what not, have you two ever —“

“ No, just best friends, I tend to overshare, I guess.”

“Yeah it amazes me sometimes, the things women share with their friends, but yet guys are always the ones who are known to kiss and tell and brag about their conquests. Females can be just as bad, y’all just keep it on the low a little better,” he stated. “Well, I look forward to working with you tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait!” You responded. “Bye.”

“Bye,”

You felt oddly comforted and at ease after the call, no longer a ball of nerves or embarrassment. He made you feel like there was no shame in enjoying the things you did. He was very professional despite the nature of the call; it didn’t feel sleezy or overly salacious; just two consenting adults having a mature conversation about their sexual desires.

*************************

When you walked out of hair and make-up and onto set, you saw Colson waiting for you on a red leather couch. He was clad in only black dress pants; shirtless — his tattoos on full display. He smiled seductively when he saw you, beckoning you over with a pat to his thighs. You undid your silk robe they had given you and let it slip from your shoulders to the floor, revealing the red lacy set Shawnie had bought you, as you made your way over to him. You suddenly became very aware of all the cameras and other people in the room, as you sat on his lap. Somehow it has slipped your mind that they were all a part of what went into this.

“You get used to it,” he said softly , remembering the way he felt his first time in front of the cameras. “Just pretend they’re not even there— only me and you, okay?” He said brushing a finger along your thigh. “Unless, Shawnie forgot to mention you’re an exhibitionist too, then by all means enjoy them watching us fuck,” he joked, making you laugh. “Don’t forget, if you need me to stop at anytime for any reason, just give me three quick taps,” he demonstrated, tapping your thigh. “Don’t worry about the filming, they can always edit and piece things back together if needed. This is all for you and I want you to enjoy yourself. Oh and happy birthday by the way! It’s today right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ok, so we’ll just start the scene with some kissing and light touches, and when I feel you’re ready I’ll signal the camera man, he’ll call action, and then we'll be recording.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded your head. He had made you feel so comfortable and relaxed the last bit of nervousness you chalked up to just being slightly star struck; You never thought in a million years you’d get this opportunity.

“Ready?,” he pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into the most alluring devilish grin.

“Ready,” you echoed back, biting your lip trying to suppress a needy whine. God you were always such a sucker for his killer eye contact in his films, and now you were the one his eyes were soul fucking. You’re heart pounded with excited anticipation as Colson’s face drew nearer to your own. He lightly held your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, parting them to introduce his tongue. It was a welcome greeting, cut short by the breathy “oh fuck ” that involuntarily slipped from your lips.

“”You good?” He laughed softly, a small puff of air the only thing separating your mouths; your foreheads still touching.

“More...than good,” you spoke in a short choppy sentence trying to compose yourself.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smirked against your lips, continuing to kiss you.

You melted into his kisses— slow and gentle at first, increasing in intensity as he carried on. When he nipped at your bottom lip with a low groan, you lost all innocence, shifting positions to straddle his lap. You gripped the back of his head, as he kissed you and rolled your hips against him, demanding more. And that’s when he knew … that you were ready. He quickly signaled to the cameraman with a thumbs up, and “Action” was called.

His hand slipped down from your chin, settling on the highest part of your neck just under your jaw, his fingers squeezing at your pulse points on either side. Roughly he turned your head to the side with a push of his thumb and his mouth began mauling your neck with an appetite for lust, leaving blooming raspberry patches along the descending path of flesh that lead to your breasts. With one hand he expertly undid the front clasp of your red lace bra and took in the sight of you.

“Perfect,” he whispered into your flesh with a growl, taking one breast in each hand as he licked between them, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You slid the silky straps of your lingerie over your shoulders, letting it fall, as he took turns going back and forth between each breast treating each of your nipples to light suction and a pleasurable nibble. You let out a moan at his actions and again rolled your hips in his lap, pressing yourself against the hardening bulge inside his dress pants. “Needy are we?” He teased swiftly spinning you around so your back was to his chest. He dug his chin into your shoulder peering over it as he snatched up the crotch of your panties roughly, tugging the material up between your lips . You canted your hips up chasing after the friction of the coarse fabric against your clit. “You like that, huh?” He pulled them harsher.

“Mmmm, yes” you squeaked out, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he growled nipping at your neck. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he shoved the material to the side exposing you, letting his fingers explore your folds as he pleased. “You want my cock right in here huh?” His voice was so gravelly and low as he slipped a finger inside you, only to quickly pull it back out, teasing you. “Taste yourself,” he brought the finger to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it, as he slid it further into your mouth, his long fingers slipping down the back of your throat. “Oh, god, yes!” He exclaimed impressed by how you didn’t even gag. “Tell ya what—“ he paused to add a second finger to your mouth, continuing to talk as you sucked “If you can suck my dick as good as that—“ he then pulled them back out of your mouth. “I might just have to fuck you right in here too,” he shoved his spit slicked fingers into your ass.

“Yes, fuck, please!” You whined, wiggling your hips, wanting his fingers deeper.

“You like that? Huh. You dirty little anal whore!” He grabbed your neck with his free hand, keeping you pinned back against him, the fingers of his other hand still moving inside you.

“Yes, yes! I am,” you strained to speak. “Please, please fuck my ass!” You whined impatiently with pleasure. You never heard yourself sound so needy and desperate in your life.

“You sound you pretty when you beg, but you're gonna have to earn it first,” he demanded pulling out his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. Quickly, you dropped to your knees in front of the couch as Colson got up standing before you. You waited impatiently while Colson unbuckled his belt above you. Once undone he yanked the belt free from the loops with a satisfying ‘whoosh’ that made you pulse between your thighs. You desperately clawed his pants and boxers down his legs like a feral cat in heat as Colson brought the tip to your mouth, still holding onto his belt in the other. “Open!,” he demanded. “Goooood,” he growled in praise as you did what you were told. You reached up to grab it but ,“no hands!” he smacked them away, and then secured them behind your back with his belt. “Let’s try this again, open!” He spoke harshly. You obliged, opening wide. “Tongue” he barked. You let it hang from your mouth with anticipation; eager breaths rolling down it like a panting dog eyeing a steak. He teased you, slapping his cock against your tongue before shoving it fully into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears as you fought your gag reflex, taking him down your throat. He held your head in place with one hand , the tip of your nose pressed flush against the coarse hair of his pelvis, as he hunched his body forward over yours untying the sides of your G-string. It slipped from your body leaving you completely nude. Colson smacked your ass, then gripped it harshly, making it jiggle for him before finally standing straight up and pulling his hips back to let you come up for air.

“Huuuuuuhhhh,” you inhaled sharply gasping for breath, letting oxygen penetrate deep into your lungs before Colson stuffed your mouth again. Mascara ran down your hollowed out cheeks as you sucked. You started pulling back out of instinct when you began to gag but Colson held you in place.

“No, keep it in your mouth,” he instructed condescendingly, looking down at you. “Just a little longer” he promised. You tried your best, Colson letting out a throaty moan every time your raw, used throat constricted around him as he fucked into it. “Mmmgghh,” he groaned, pulling out of your mouth “Goooood girl,” he praised with a smirk, before bending down to give you a sloppy kiss, swapping mouthfuls of saliva. Just as he pulled away he let a long string of collected spit slip from his pursed lips and into your open mouth, where you eagerly accepted it, moaning as you swallowed it down.

You let out a breathy “awhhh” as you opened your mouth again, wiggling your tongue enticingly.

“Such a dirty, fucking whore,” he bent down again and spat directly in your face. He smeared it all over your face with his hand before grabbing you by the neck, pulling you to your feet. “Turn around,” he ordered. You did as he said and Colson undid his belt from around your wrists. Before you even had a chance to soothe your sore wrists with a rub, Colson spun you around and pushed you down onto your back on the couch, your ass teetering on the edge of the red leather cushion. “Spread yourself for me,” he instructed, as he pumped himself. Again you did as you were told; you pulled your legs up, wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them back as you parted your opening with your fingers. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He teased the head of his cock through the glistening mess on display for him.

“Fuck me,” you said in an inpatient huff, staring into his eyes.

“Awhhh, yessss,” he groaned out, slack jawed as he sank into you

“Ohhh, shit,” you screamed out , face twisted in pleasure, your eyes slipping shut, at the feeling of him burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Open your eyes. Look at me!” He spoke harshly, cupping your face in his hands as he thrust. You opened your eyes, trying to focus on his, but your vision was spotted by the intensity of it all. “Feel good?” He pressed his forehead to yours just as he’d done earlier , starring directly into the windows to your soul as he fucked you. You nodded the best you could, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, I want words. Say yes!”

“Yes.. yes,” you responded breathily, biting at your lip.

“Yeah, Mmmghhh, that’s it. Fuck, I like it when you use your words” he moaned , shifting himself to be more upright. He then spit on the tips of his fingers and brought them to your clit and began rubbing it furiously, his cock still destroying you.

“OH Fuck!” You cried out, wiggling and bucking your hips.

“You gonna fucking stay still? He roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You nodded your head, trying your best to calm your body’s erratic, pleasure driven movements as he thrust. “Words!” He spat, his hand letting go of your face only to connect it to your cheek again with a quick, yet harsh slap.

“Shit! ...Yes!” You corrected yourself once again, Your body was loving how aggressive he was getting the longer he fucked you and he could tell; spitting at and striking your face again.

“Turn over!” He ordered, abruptly pulling out. “Hands on the back of the couch.” He roughly assisted you in turning around , and you placed your hands where instructed. You arched your back and pushed your ass out waiting for him to re enter you from the new position. “This is where you really want it, huh?” He teased his cock over your asshole.

“Yes!,” you remembered to use your words this time.

“You’re a dirty little fucking anal whore, aren’t you? He asked, he question sounding a lot more like a statement. “Let me hear you said it.” He applied pressure to your hole with the tip, as he yanked back a fist full of your hair.

“I’m a dirty little fucking anal whore!,” you repeated desperately pushing back against him.

“Mmmghh!, That you are!” He confirmed with a groan, snapping hips hips forward, quickly entering you.

“Uhhhhh, Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the feeling. You never fully understood why you enjoyed anal as much as you did, perhaps it was the pleasurable fullness, the taboo aspect, the fact that you were one of the few woman who were into it, or the way so many men were obsessed with it , and the look on their face when they found out you were more than willing to take it up the ass, but you absolutely loved it, and this time was no different. Every jack hammered thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, especially when Colson reached around to between your legs adding the friction of his fingers to your clit. The sensation of your ass being stuffed combined with his touch was the perfect recipe for orgasm and you felt it building every time his cock slid in and out.

“Yeah, cum for me,” he could feel you tightening around him. His words perfectly in sync with the jolt of pleasure boiling over in your abdomen and ripping through you with vast intensity. A series of explitives and sounds you’ve never heard yourself make, flew from you lips as your body went boneless under Colson. He quickly pulled out, turned you back over and came across your face with a few pumps of his hand. He collapsed to the side of you briefly, before tugging you off the couch and onto your knees. “I’m not done with you just yet,” he spoke out of breath taking his softening dick in his hand. Your eyes lit up, you knew what he was referring too— the only thing on your list of wants he hadn’t included yet. “Say ahhh!”

“Ahhh,” you echoed the request, letting his golden stream fill your mouth, splash off your tongue and dribble down your chin and body. You giggled, piss spilling from your smile as you looked up at him, all your fantasies now fulfilled.

“Annnd cut!” Called the director. A few stage hands scrambled to bring you both a towel and small refreshments. “Almost done, just gonna get you guys a little cleaned up, rehydrated, let you catch your breath a bit, and then film the little quick, post scene interview.

“Ok,” you both answered.

Colson tossed his towel over his shoulders and reached out his hand to you “You, good?” He asked with a faint laugh , watching your hand shake as you drank your water.

“Yeah,” you answered letting him pull you up onto the couch.

“You were amazing,” he said, rubbing your back. He knew the come down from the adrenal rush of scenes could be taxing, especially from rough ones . “You —“

“Ready,” the director interrupted, cutting him short, and immediately pressing record. “So how was it?” the director focused the camera on you first.

“Oh my god.. mind blowing,” you answered , still out of breath, adjusting your towel.

“And you?” The director turned the camera to Colson.

“ Absolutely amazing. She was a natural. I’d love to work with her again.”

#colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #small hands #aaron thompson

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gothreigen · 4 years

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huh occasionally i will just remember something from my mental breakdown in my second year of university and be like wow that happened I guess. cool. i can’t believe that was overshadowed by my mental breakdown in my THIRD year of university

#something something if you aren't a productive member of society people pay more attention to you than if you're passively trying to die #whew so glad im not that person any more but those really were some crazy times huh #ask to tag? //

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mysteryshoptls · 11 months

Text

SSR Cater Diamond Halloween Personal Story: Part 3

"What a bunch of lies"

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

[Hall of Mirrors]

Silver: Please don't push. There is no entry permissible into the Hall of Mirrors

Man A: Eeeeh, come on! I came all this way out the remote Sage's Island just to see Malleus Draconia.

Man B: We're trying to do the Draconia Challenge! C'mon～

Woman C: He's inside, right? The real Draconia! The Malleus!

Guests: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

[lightning flashes]

[thunder rolls]

Silver: This was supposed to be a special event. And Malleus-sama himself stepped up to help host these guests…

Silver: And yet for this sort of thing to happen…

Silver: You all should leave now. Malleus-sama is extremely angry.

Man A: We all spent a ton to travel all the way here. Doesn't he know the meaning of noblesse oblige?

Guests: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

[Exterior Hallway]

Cater: So, even Malleus-kun's gotten pissed off at all the Magicam clout chasing guests, huh?

Sebek: Correct. At first, he was so calm that he was even telling me to settle down…

Sebek: But then one fool grabbed at his horns and did some sort of pantomime.

Sebek: SAYING, "JUST LIKE AN OLD BICYCLE!"

Lilia/Cater: GAH!!!

Cater: Don't know if that was brave… or just reckless…

Cater: So then, all those dark clouds and lightning that's looming over the Hall of Mirrors is Malleus-kun on a magical rampage?

Cater: Wait, he wouldn't overblot over something like this, would he…!?

Lilia: Don't fret. He won't overblot just by using that amount of magic.

Lilia: This is a mere temper tantrum. Back when he was a wee one, he would also completely reduce crags to mere pebbles with his lightning whenever he threw a fit like this.

Cater: Hahaha… He's just on a different level entirely.

Cater: It was smart that we sent Kalim-kun along to go call for a professor.

Sebek: When Vil-senpai realized what was happening, he evacuated my liege, and is putting up barriers to make sure to no harm comes to the visitors.

Sebek: Also, it seems Jade-senpai is working on trying to persuade the young master to come back to his senses with his own tactics…

Sebek: All of these humans who still don't understand just how grave this situation has become are just causing further ire to my lord, and things are spiraling out of control.

Lilia: We'll have to use our last resort.

Lilia: In order to keep the "worst outcome" from happening, we should forcefully try to subdue all these rubberneckers.

Cater: Wait, Lilia-chan. I got an idea. 'Cause it's not like they all are here 'cause they hate Malleus-kun.

Cater: But that doesn't mean they really like him, though… More like, they're just trying to stick with what's "in" right now.

Cater: Basically, just like how my old acquaintances are doing.

Lilia: ?

Cater: Alright, first, I'm gonna snap a pic of you, Lilia-chan, since you're dressed the same as Malleus-kun!

[shutter clicks]

Cater: Next, I'll use the tool that every influencer needs. This photo editor'll stretch Lilia-chan's picture vertically!

[swipe, swipe]

Cater: Then, I'll just quickly slap some text on there. And then upload it alongside the picture!!

[chime]

Cater: #MalleusEncounter #DraconiaChallenge #UnexpectedMeetingOnTheSchoolGrounds #NRCHalloween

[chime]

Man A: H-Hey. Look at the DraconiaChallenge tag.

Man B: Looks like he's at the sports field right now. That's Malleus for ya. He's so much faster than us!

Woman C: Ooookay. Let's head over there, everybody!

Guests: YEAAAAAAAAAAH!

Silver: What is going on? Malleus-sama should still be within the Hall of Mirrors.

Cater: Whew. The storm should calm down now… Right?

Vil: For goodness sakes. Accidents are an unavoidable part of being on stage. To react as such to instigating visitors is such an amateur move.

Vil: Well, this is where I leave you, I will be heading back to my dorm for a moment to freshen up my appearance.

Jade: Well now, that was touch and go for a moment there. Malleus-san's power is quite mighty, isn't it.

Jade: I had wanted to persuade him to stop by utilizing good, strong eye contact, but it was much too far out of my depth.

Jade: And now, I shall also leave to return back to my station. Have a pleasant Halloween, everyone.

Malleus: I fear I almost stoke the coals on the relationship between our species during a mere school event.

Malleus: I must learn to control my emotions better…

Sebek: There is absolutely no blame that should fall on your shoulders, my liege! The fault purely lies at the feet of those indecent humans!

Silver: Malleus-sama just said he did not wish for any hostility between species. What do you hope to gain by exacerbating that hostility?

Sebek: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME, SILVER?!?!?!

Lilia: Malleus. Have you forgotten the promise we made when you were naught but a wee one? Whenever the emotions in your heart are tumultuous, you should call for us.

Lilia: We may not be connected by blood, but we are family. Understand?

Malleus: Lilia… My apologies. And to everyone else, as well.

Silver/Lilia/Sebek: ……。

Cater: …Family…huh.

[FLASHBACK]

Lilia: ―I think I understand you.

Lilia: Just as you professed earlier, Cater, perhaps one truth to it all is to avoid becoming too attached to certain people.

Cater: (What a bunch of lies.)

Cater: (Lilia-chan's built up these priceless relationships from being with them together for a long while…)

Cater: (How can he even hope to understand my stupid, pathetic little feelings?)

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

Cater: Hi, Trey-kun. What's up?

Cater: Eh? Our night-time rehearsal for our stamp rally site's starting now?

Cater: And my fellow committee member Deuce-chan's so shorthanded that Ace-chan's helping out?

Cater: Augh, Ace-chan's definitely trying to get me in his debt!

Cater: Gah! And Riddle-kun's on the verge of exploding? I'm on my way right now, Trey-kun, so try to calm him down for me!

Cater: I was just caught up in what could have been the biggest, most terrible crisis of this Halloween Week!

Cater: No, really! I'm not lying. Come onnn, don't be so cold to me, 'kay?

Cater: HHHHHHNNNGH, TREY-KUN YOU'RE SO HEARTLESS～～～～!!

Cater: Alright, now that the Diasomnia fiasco has calmed itself down, time to get hyped again.

Cater: It'll be the same here, anyway. Once four years pass, we'll all go our separate ways. …Well, guess not if I get held back～

Cater: So, I gotta make sure I enjoy the "now" as much as I can!

Cater: I'm gonna rock this skeleton costume and scare everybody!

Cater: I'll show 'em all just how hard Cay-kun can go.

Cater: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

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krabstick32 · 3 years

Text

Girl Code

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Having crushes are hard. Especially when your best friend and the person you like seem to be hitting it off.

Tags/warnings: very very very light angst, mostly fluff uwu

a/n: first of all, happy new year! school got reaaaal busy, so whew! it’s been a while! not gonna lie, I really missed writing stuff! I got a few days worth of break, so hopefully I get to finish a few backlogged reqs. (I think I only have two left, but to those two, I sincerely apologize for the wait! I’m planning to write them as headcanons to get them out faster, so I hope you don’t mind!)

to @aliaisreal, thank you so much for requesting and being so patient with me 🥺 i apologize in advance if it’s not very good :(( it’s not my best work, but I hope you still enjoy it and that it’s somehow worth the wait^^

Link to the ask: Request by @aliaisreal

As the Insect Pillar, and the successor of the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu Kocho was one busy woman. She has a lot of responsibilities on her plate such as slaying demons, concocting medicine, and the like, so it was safe to say that she had no time to babysit anyone but—

“Shinobu!” The door bursts open and one of her… self-appointed responsibilities come prancing right through the threshold. “How about we go out to the village and have some lunch, hmm? My treat!”

Even if her skin felt like it almost flew off in shock, her smile stayed the same as she arranged the papers she intentionally threw around her desk when you came barging through the door. It wasn’t like you immediately coming in shocked her or anything. No, not at all. “Hello to you too, (F/N). Not that I particularly mind, but why so sudden?”

At that, your cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. In your excitement to invite her out to eat, you forgot to greet her first. “Ah, hello. But, back to the topic of lunch!”

Shinobu didn’t really change the topic, but she waved a hand as an indication for you to continue.

“Well, you seem stressed lately. I was hoping to treat you out y’know? And then you could rant and tell me all about it—only if you want to of course, no pressure at all!”

She sighed. For the past few days, Shinobu was starting to get a little frustrated with the current medicine she was trying to make work. On top of that, she needed to handle so many other things, and do missions, check in on patients, cook—well, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was starting to get on her nerves.

It was no surprise that you were starting to notice because even if you seemed a little too enthusiastic at times, you were still her best friend and a pillar at that—you wouldn’t be here without being exceptionally skilled and observant. Overenthusiasm aside, she—and everybody else included—knew you meant well.

“I don’t know,” She hums, excited to see how you’ll react. “Are you done with your portion of the work? You looked a little distracted earlier, what with Tomioka-san—“

With the mention of the water pillar’s name, your sweet closed eyed smile turned sour as you immediately placed your hands on her mouth to stop her from continuing that sentence. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m done! You know I don’t slack off. All the patients are fine and I've stitched up the few whose wounds opened.”

She was just teasing. Shinobu was well aware of your skill and work ethic, and while Shinobu was gifted in medicine, particularly pharmaceuticals, you had an uncanny knack for cutting people apart, and stitching them back up again. You were as skilled with a scalpel as you were with a sword.

“I’m just teasing (F/N)-chan.” The Insect Pillar replied, and couldn’t help but want to push more of your buttons as your face seemed to relax at the thought that she wouldn’t mention a particular someone. “But are you sure you’d rather invite me? I’m sure you’d rather ask Tomio—“

If your face was pink before, you were absolutely glowing right now as you put back your hand on top of her mouth. “Shinobu! You know I...you know I don’t like him like that! Besides, I am positive he likes someone else.”

She shrugs your hands off—which were slightly clammy, ew— as she shows you a devilish smile that has you sweating more. “Lie all you’d like, but I don’t think that’s something someone who ‘doesn’t like him like that’ would say, don’t you think?”

Ah, teasing was fun, but teasing you and tomioka were one of the few pleasures in life she made sure to enjoy.

“...Stop teasing me or I will eat without you.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go to that ramen shop in the village.”

Everyone didn’t give the great Inosuke-sama enough credit!

He was raised by boars, grew up in the wild, and treated the mountains like his home. Insouke may have lacked skill in what society normally taught, like proper etiquette, and reading, but the wild was a great teacher on its own, and taught him things he wouldn’t have learned in the company of other humans.

Spending his entire life out in the wild, Inosuke was able to learn how to heighten his senses, particularly his sense of touch, and how to observe. He may have been clueless in the socially acceptable ways to voice out what he sees, what he feels, but Inosuke is perceptive, and that’s what people normally wouldn’t associate with someone who was as stubborn as a rock, and as brash as a beast.

Inosuke—and Kentaro, Nezuko, and Monitsu for that matter—usually spent their time at the butterfly estate. The three of them—mostly Tontaro, really—helped the girls. Cooking, laundry, cleaning, lifting heavy things, were simple chores that they did, and afterwards, Inosuke would often find himself looking for you and Shinobu.

He always felt this...fuwa-fuwa feeling around the two of you, and he thought both of you were like that Gengoro, his sister, and reluctantly Chuitsu.

There was a day where Shinobu was out on a mission, leaving you partially in charge of the butterfly estate, and spending some time with Inosuke. Personally, you found Inosuke to be interesting due to his origins, and overall, he was fun to be around with. Surprisingly, both of you really complimented each other despite being both huge balls of energy and enthusiasm.

That day, you and him were having a little spar by one of the yards around the estate. To an outsider, it was absolutely funny seeing him, who had a more built body compared to your lithe frame, getting thrown off and beaten to a pulp with a wooden stick. If Shuitzu were here to see the spar, he would be laughing his ass off in that pissy, slightly disgusting high-pitched tone at the many times Inosuke was thrown down. Manchiro would probably observe though, and would probably encourage him that he could beat you one day while helping him with his wounds.

Contrary to popular belief though, Inosuke was well aware he couldn’t beat you, at least not yet. Regardless of the way you looked, he could feel it in his skin that you were a formidable opponent who could easily break his bones if you wanted. Seeing your strength for himself was an opportunity he saw where he could get stronger, even if it did frustrate him a little. Or a lot.

“The great Inosuke demands a rematch! A rematch!”he demands, fussing against the ground as you lower your sword and stand up straight from your last breathing form.

“Ahaha, okay, okay! But I’m feeling a little tired…” you pause and place a hand on your chin with a thoughtful look. In a few seconds, you snap your fingers and turn back to him with a bright smile. “Ah! How about we take a break first? Then you could go back to handing me my butt?”

Inosuke knew you weren’t tired and that technically, you were the one handing him his ass. You weren’t heaving a lung out like he was, or sweating bullets. You were the picture of calm and collected, pristine like untouched snow, without a hair out of place.

Inosuke huffs and pushes himself off the ground. “Fine! Insouke-sama permits it!”

“Wonderful! Wait here.” You chirp and pad back into the butterfly estate, leaving Inosuke to unceremoniously plop back down to the ground.

A few minutes pass, and he feels his skin tingle—someone was here, but they didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. It would have felt different if there was.

He looks up from his spot on the ground and spots the hanhan baori guy, his face looking the same as it did the past few times Inosuke saw it. The odd guy was just passing through the gate when Inosuke pushed himself off the floor, wooden sword pointed between Pochioka’s eyes.

“Hanhan Bao—!”

Before Inosuke would have finished his proclamation to fight, you were back standing at the engawa with a tray of sliced fruit, and bamboo cups filled with cool water. “Inosuke? What’s wro—Giyuu! What brings you here?”

Huh. That was odd.

“(F/N)-san.” Inosuke goes uncharacteristically quiet as his eyes darted between the two of you.

It was completely unmistakable. Hanhan Baori’s mouth moved when you arrived. Inosuke honestly thought Dohioka was a magic statue before this day.

You turn to Inosuke and place the tray in a safe spot. “Here, eat first. I’ll just ask what Giyuu needs, and we can spar right after, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay.”

At his response, you give him a warm smile and pat his head (there was that darned fuwa-fuwa feeling again!). He watches as you and Tapioka move a few meters away, settling underneath the shade of a tree to talk, a bit too far away for him to hear.

He doesn’t think he needs to though, because your body language said it all.

Your face was a little flushed, your smile looked even sweeter. Hanhan baori’s mouth was curling upwards in a smile, and his eyes looked fond. A suspicious combination for someone who he previously thought was a statue up until now. But he digresses. He’s never seen you look so...like this. You smiling wasn’t much of a surprise, but with Pachinko around...it was different, and Tochioka seemed more open to boot. There wasn’t much of a doubt in his mind. There was something between you two. He just couldn’t put a name on it—but there was something. Maybe he should ask Monjiro about it.

He munches on the fruit thoughtfully, watching you smile softly—softer than he’s ever seen—as you seem to answer a question Torioka asked you.

Yep, definitely something up between you and Tomioka.

Maybe he should extend his help. After all, the great Inosuke-sama was the kind ruler of the mountains. Pushing you two along would be a piece of cake.

Shinobu catches you pouting by the window in your joint office. It was adorable, considering how your cheeks were puffed, and your eyebrows were furrowed, but with your personality? Sulking wasn’t like you. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Surprised, you jump and turn to find the Insect Pillar with her ever present smile painted on her face. It seems softer though, kinder. “Huh? No, nothing’s wrong!” You disagree, pushing yourself off the chair and tidying up the papers scattered on your desk.

She watches you with a small knowing smile on her face. “What, didn’t see Tomioka-san today?”

You paused for a moment, imperceptible to any outsider, but to Shinobu, who has spent so much time around you, that momentary lapse in movement was enough of an indicator. “...No.”

Hit the nail right on the head!

“You are a terrible liar (F/N)-chan. I thought the two of you were getting along? Should I go put poison in his tea?”

At her suggestion, you turn back as your skin pales. It was largely concerning how easily Shinobu could do that. “What? No! He did nothing, I swear it!”

“Awfully defensive,” The Insect Pillar snickers, before taking a seat on her chair and turning to you. With you pouting at her, Shinobu is reminded of how fun it was to tease you.

“Shinobu-chan.”

“Teasing.” She raises her hands in a move to placate you. Well, annoying you was fun and all, but she was concerned for you, more so than wanting to piss you off. “Anyway—jokes aside, you know i’m always here for you, right?”

You knew that. She was always willing to listen to your problems, but you couldn’t exactly tell her that you’re trying to distance yourself from Giyuu because he liked her.

Truth be told, you were getting along with Giyuu, so much so that you’ve started to like him as more than a friend. But, you cared for Shinobu and you wanted her to be happy. She and Giyuu made more sense than you and him.

“...Yes.”

“And that I love you like a sister, right?”

Despite all the teasing, you knew Shinobu really cared for you. She may like to push your buttons, but oddly enough, it reminded you of one of your siblings, so you didn’t mind. Just like your relative, you knew they did it because they wanted to distract you from your problems. An odd way of doing it, but they really would have gotten along.

“Yeah.”

“And that I can easily kill a man and hide his body?”

“Shinobu-chan!”

She laughs, the sound very similar to bells, and you can’t help the bitter thought that maybe Giyuu liked someone with a mellow voice like hers. “Kidding! Kidding! Well, kind of on that last one.”

You pout, and she brushes off her statement with a near irresistible bribe. “Alright, how about we go get some food? My treat.”

Awfully tempting. But there was still one more concern in your head.

“No poison?”

“Have more faith in my, (F/N)-chan!” Giggling, Shinobu slides the door open, and beckons you over. “Now, let’s go—I’m sure you’re hungry!”

“You didn’t answer my question!” You say, trailing after her in mild worry, feelings momentarily forgotten as the thought of food replaces it.

It was any other early evening in the butterfly estate when the Water Pillar barged in through the doors, blood dripping from an open wound on his chest, with the oddest expression on his face.

Maybe what should have alarmed the butterfly girls were the deep scratch marks on his chest. Instead, it was the near half-crazed look on his face. Tomioka-san’s face never moved from it’s impassively cold stare, why was now any different?

“Where is she?” He rasps.

Aoi, who was standing at the entrance with Kiyo upon his arrival, was brought out of her shock. “Tomioka-sama, lie down. Kiyo will lead you to a room and I’ll get Shinobu-sama immediately to take care of your wounds.”

“No, where is she? Where’s (F/N)—”

From the end of the hall, you came down to see what all the huff was about. You were taking inventory of the supplies since it was a little slow today, but the ruckus urged you to go out and take a look.

“Giyuu? What’s going on he—ohmygods, Giyuu, are you alright?” Seeing Giyuu pale—well, paler than normal—and bleeding all over the floor was not what you expected though.

“(F/N)...” Seeing her alive and breathing eased Giyuu’s worries, so much so that he sags in relief. He would have dropped down the floor if it weren’t for your quick reflexes.

Lightly, he feels you press a hand to his head, wiping the sweat forming on his brow.

“Giyuu? Stay with me, we’re going to fix you right up, ‘kay?” There was no doubt in his head that you could. He’s been in much worse really. The blood loss just wasn’t doing him any favors.

Regardless, he shakes his head and just savors you being here, warm and alive.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Dead? Who, me? No, silly! I just sprained my ankle, so walking’s a little hard, but i’ll be fine!”

“I thought I was going to lose you...” He was starting to babble. The blood loss was starting to affect him more than he’d thought.

“Lose me? Don’t worry, I’m not going away any time soon.”

“Good…” Giyuu breathes out a sigh of relief. He liked the thought of you living for a long, long time. “I like you a lot.”

With that admission, his head slumps over your shoulder, and his body gets heavier, prompting you to nearly drop him with the weight of his sudden confession and his mass.

Aoi and Kiyo watches, shocked beyond words as your face continuously gets redder and redder. Whether it was from the exertion, or his words, well, everyone knew exactly what was causing you to look like a freshly plucked apple.

“H-Hah?! Wait, Giyuu? Giyuu!”

And that is the sight that greets Shinobu. She was back from a report to Oyakata-sama, so seeing you all red and flustered with a fully grown man who was bleeding all over her floor and who was about to fall over and kill you—with his weight, or with his words, Shinobu could easily guess which—was an especially unusual sight, but unfortunately, not really unexpected. And mildly infuriating.

“Tomioka-san, you total dunce! Get treated first! Ugh, (F/N)-chan, don’t let him fall, he’s losing blood!”

“Ow—“ Giyuu grunts, the bandage being wrapped around his torso a little too tight for his taste.

“Tomioka-san.” Shinobu starts, her hands continuously steady as she wraps the bandages with precision and efficiency around his chest. “I don’t think we’ve had a heart to heart chat about (F/N)-chan, don’t you think?”

After Giyuu’s surprise confession, you and Shinobu were able to drag him to a nearby room. He was passed out cold, and between you two, carrying a fully grown man would still be difficult, even if you’ve both had special pillar training.

He woke up a few minutes after you were done stitching the open gash at his stomach which caused his bloodloss (and slightly embarassing fainting spell). These unfortunate series of events have led him here, painfully being bandaged by none other than Shinobu. It wold have been nice if you were the one doing it, but Shinobu sent you to go look for more bandages with this sickly sweet look in her eyes—which you barely noticed in your worry. The worry was sweet, but now he knows Shinobu’s motives. Interrogstion.

Giyuu could do nothing else but nod, doing his damn best to not flinch, and keep still.

“You see, she really likes you, you know? I’ve never seen (F/N)-chan happier than she is when she’s with you. Honestly, I don’t know why she does, and what she sees in you but I like seeing her happy. You and I both know that she deserves it.”

Giyuu watches her wrap the bandages with practiced ease albeit with a little more force than necessary. Hearing Shinobu talk about you so fondly has him feeling grateful that you had someone who cared so deeply for you, and who was so willing to do anything to keep you happy. Even if the brunt of her attacks did fall on him, he could understand where she was coming from.

“She does,” Giyuu says, surprising Shinobu as she finds the softest, most fondest look she has ever seen on Giyuu’s immovable face. For a moment, Shinobu could see that he cared so much for you—as much, if not more than you cared for him—and she knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.

Unbelievable. She can’t believe he passed her test so easily.

She lets out a heavy sigh, turning back to the task at hand with a saccharine smile ready on her face.

“All that said, If you hurt any part of who I see as my beloved sister, I'll make sure to use my medical expertise to ensure you don’t get a chance to spread your genes—”

The door slides open with a nice loud clack, preventing Giyuu from hearing the rest of Shinobu’s sentence. Just as well too. He doesn’t think he’d want to hear the rest.

“Shinobu-chan! I’ve got more bandages for Giyuu!”

“Ah, thank you, (F/N)-chan!” The Insect Pillar smiles, taking one of the fresh bundles you offered, as you moved to the side of the room, arranging the medical supplies for easier access.

Shinobu leans down, under the guise of tying the gauze, as you flit around the room, spreading sunshine in your trails. None of you mention how you blatantly avoid eye contact with Giyuu. But it’s not like he’s initiating any either.

“I don’t think I need to continue my sentence.” She mumbles under her breath. “Do you understand?”

Giyuu winces as she tucks in another piece of bandage, grumbling in response. “Loud and clear.”

BONUS:

Later that night, Shinobu left the two of you alone in Giyuu’s hospital room to talk it out. It was a little awkward at first, but as the two of you melt the ice, your usual sunny personalty—ironic, as you were the Snow Pillar—takes over. Throughout the course of the evening, you take out his hand with his permission, and have the time of your life holding it. It was a little funny how stiff and unused he was being at hand holding, but you found that to be one of his unexpected charms. And it wasn’t like he was complaining. He actually found it adorable how small your hands were, and how it fit really well against his own.

“So you don’t like Shinobu?” You ask a little shyly, playing with the tips of his fingers.

Against your skin, you feel him shiver in disgust as he looks slighty disgusted by question. “Gods, no, never.”

“So you were serious about liking me? It wasn’t a joke?”

“I don’t think I’d joke about that in my final moments.”

You giggle, feeling a little silly for even questioning it. But really, you don’t think you could be blamed for it. “You have a point.”

The two of you stay in comfortable silence for a while. He watches you trace vague shapes against his palms and he’s never felt so at peace before, than he did at this moment. After a while though, a curious thought strikes him, and he can’t help but want to ask.

“...What made you think that?”

The tips of your ears stain pink before you look away and bring one hand to your cheek. “Well I thought you two liked each other, and it seemed like she suited you much better than I would.”

“I only ever liked you. I thought I was being obvious.”

As blunt as ever.

“Ahaha!” You laughed, getting flustered in spite of the warmth pooling into your chest. “Well, I guess not enough for me.” It’s not as if you were able to notice. You did think he liked Shinobu after all. “By the way, why did you think I was going to die?”

He look up at the ceiling. “One of Tanjirou’s friends...that boar kid told me you couldn’t walk, and that you couldn’t move.”

“Inosuke? Oh, that…that actually makes a lot of—a lot of s-sense!”

Giyuu watches you fondly as you laugh. In your defense, the thought of you spraining your ankle being blown out of proportion by none other than Inosuke was funnier than you ever expected.

“Don’t laugh.” Giyuu pouts. It was the most adorable thing you’ve seen. “By the way he said it, I really thought you weren’t going to live to see another day.”

You breather deeply, giggling a little as you look at him with mirth and happiness dancing in your eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll explain it to him tomorrow. But I guess I should thank him. If you weren’t nearly half-dead on your feet, neither of us would have confessed.”

“Yeah. I‘ll go with you.”

“Cool! Cool...Um, Giyuu?”

“Yes?”

“Could you maybe… perhaps, say that again?”

“Say what, again?”

“That you like me?”

Giyuu chuckles, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I like you.”

He’d say it a million more times if he gets to see you smile like that again.

“Heehee, I like you too Giyuu!”

a/n: i got a little sick of rereading this so many times, so, apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes!! i hope ya’ll liked it though uwu

also, are any of you playing genshin impact? man, that game saved my sanity, and at the same time caused more insanity....it’s fun.

if u guys wanna play, feel free to send me your uid’s! i’m at world level 6 so i can go into most worlds :^)

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taylorkellyreporting · 2 years

Text

i hope no one minds if i inconsistently liveblog this bitch: hawaii five-0 s2 edition

danny visiting steve in prison this season:

kono my love ☹️

oooh chin saw wo fat at the governor’s funeral! hope this means he’ll stop doubting steve’s innocence

steve is so fine and for what

did we need a closeup of steve working out? no but they added it in anyway and i am so thankful they did

what the fuck

“putting more of your friends behind bars?” get him again for me danny

THIS SHOW ISN’T LETTING ME BREATHE

“zip it, kermit!” max’s little smile pls 😭

RACHEL’S GOING BACK TO STAN?! fuck fjgjgjfks

IT’S NOT HIS KID????? ikyfl

oh kono got caught? i’m so surprised

WHEW FIVE-0 IS BACK (kinda, kono is still gone)

wait was his dad working with wo fat????

hesse is dead and wo fat is the one who killed him because of course he is

KAYE??? FUCKING KAYE???? I FEEL SO BETRAYED

I LIKED HER SO MUCH WHAT THE FUCK

NOTHING AND I MEAN NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME FOR THAT

i never could have predicted that kaye is working with wo fat like i trusted her completely

steve and lori are def gonna fuck and i am here for it

wow kaye plays dirty

how could she take advantage of steve’s kindness and not feel an ounce of guilt?

“how long have you two been married?” 😭😭😭

kaye and her crocodile ass tears 🙄 wonder where she’s actually going

kono :(

rlly wanted lori to figure out that kaye was hiding something

i feel like they’re gonna test kono’s likability this season and i’m not here for it

so disappointed in kono

“why are tagging this guy a homicide?…’this guy’ it’s a hand” 😭

“those coins? they’re about as real as your tan” pls

i rlly hope kono used chin’s login on purpose

well she def didn’t use it on purpose

i felt joe was lying but damn i was hoping he wasn’t

i hope that little speech made kono feel like shit

so steve’s dad just wasn’t a good guy?

now why does kono have blood on her hand in this thumbnail 😩

seriously malia looks like chin’s mom

“where was that something special when he lost his badge?”oooh malia’s face was priceless

WOAH

lori 😭😭😭

KONO?! well fuck

WHAT

this episode is so intense my gawd

OH GOD something’s gonna happen to joe, huh?

MY GAWD

he deffo knew about mokoto bc of kaye and i can’t wait for them to finally figure it out

well that was definitely an…opening.

danny deserved that rock through his window tbh

max 😭😭

the dog thought his owner was home 🥺

NOT STEVE IN THE BACK 😭😭😭

chin got contact high fjgjfjdjs

wow okay exotic animals

OH MY GOD MAX REALLY DID IT 😭😭

i love kamekona so much 😭

i love when steve and danny fight like a married couple

9 eps in and still no rachel…🤨

kaye betrayed the team for a dead body oh wow

it’s always a complicated thing when a character like kaye gets killed off

whew that ep was intense as hell

my gawd she just killed him in front of all those kids

joe :(

“it has to do with us” woah?

“i think my dad knows that guy” HELLO

woah woah woah they blew up the drugs

those are some ruthless drug lords my gawd

those poor babies are gonna be traumatized for life

losing my mind what the hell is going on with joe???

DANNY AND LORI?!?

“imagine what they’d pay if they thought that their son was still alive” what a monster

forgot chin is getting married lmao

“i was hoping you wouldn’t say that” BITCH

got a feeling either steve’s mom or dad is alive and that’s who joe has been protecting

the boyfriend took pills???? he deffo has something to hide

“i don’t need $5000 and if i did i’d steal it from my own parents” LMFAOOO

OH MY GOD????

“i helped him fake his death” i-

i just wanna hug steve :(

well rachel certainly looks different

i’ve never seen a more obvious ad placement than this subway one 😭😭

“they’re gonna kill each other before we set the play” lmfaooo yeah

rachel’s stomach looks so fake pls

i’m sorry but i don’t believe joe

still doesn’t explain the phone call where joe said steve was too close to finding out the truth

lori’s stronger than me bc once steve had me in his arms i wouldn’t be able to not kiss him

HE TOOK GRACE

“we’re never going to see chin again” WHAT?????

NOT LORI LEAVING I HATE IT HERE

can’t believe i’m almost done with this season omg?

steve looks like he aged ten years fjgjfjdks

i miss lori so much what the hell

“it was either that or you cook one of your frittata’s, danny” 😭

lekio was thee funniest ep of the series so far

“buttercream’s my favorite :D” i love steve 😭

not steve leaving what the actual hell

oh God this scene with the victims mom is so sad

i’ve never heard max so serious before it’s so odd

OH MY GOD?????

WOAH MAX STAY WITH ME

my gawd this episode was so good

this next episode is a crossover with ncis: los angeles so i’m about to be confused as hell

woah????

“what the hell happened?” “aside from waking up a foot shorter? my worst nightmare” 😭😭

danny and hanna’s dynamic has me dying

that takes “blood bath” to a whole new level

KONO AND FREAKING ADAM ARE YOU JOKING

“can you hurry back, please?” 🥺

“what are you wearing?” 284&(!?$/&:

DANNY?????

lmaooo so he’s just gonna pull a gun on kono? saw that coming tbh

this is so intense what the hell

“look at me” I CAN’T BREATHE FKGJFKCKDKS

can’t believe steve didn’t put one in wo fat when he had the chance like does he honestly believe that he’s actually going to stay in prison?

okay the summery for the finale is…a lot.

oh shit someone’s watching all of them

NOT HIM?

MAX YOU STAY WITH ME DAMN IT

i don’t understand?

we all know who chin’s saving

OH MY GOD HE CHOSE MALIA WHAT THE FUCK

LMAOOO HE KILLED HER ANYWAY

what the actual fuck man

I KNEW HIS MOM WAS ALIVE I FREAKING KNEW IT

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puredivinity · 3 years

Text

—fix-up; eren jaeger

❣︎ whew look at me, sending this unedited fic off into the void. emphasis on unedited because it’s probably bad, but you’re gonna get it anyway. i’m probably overreacting as usual, but here you are until i can complete those reqs from sunday!

❣︎ this was originally gonna be saran’s writing challenge entry but i think i deviated from the prompt quite a bit so that didn’t happen lmao. hope u enjoy! gif is from google!

❣︎ warnings: mentions/descriptions of blood and injuries. mentions and usage of a needle (reader sewing up a wound on eren’s back) and explicit language/suggestive themes (flirting at the end)

❣︎ word count: 1.2k

Eren yanks his arm away from you, spitting out blood on the dirty concrete. His hands are at his knees, cut up and bruised, gashes and slashes littering the surface. His face is the same. His long, brown hair that you’ve grown accustomed to seeing in a bun is now draping freely over his shoulders, covering his face as if to hide it from you. His shame.

“I don’t want your help,” He spoke through pants, blazing eyes glaring at your towering form.

“Well I don’t want blood on my shoes either, but here we are,” Your reply was snarky, words filled with pointed annoyance. To him, it sounded malicious; like he’d gotten underneath your skin for the umpteenth time. You’d slid his arm over your shoulder, despite his protests, and allowed him to lean on you as the two of you headed back to your place, which thankfully wasn’t far away.

Every step you took, he hissed in discomfort and a pained groan released from his mouth. He tried to stifle it but you still heard, given that he was right next to your ear. Despite how much Eren tried to act like a tough guy—he wasn’t one.

You wished he’d stop acting this way. But after some thought, you realized who you were referring to: Eren Jaeger.

He wouldn’t.

You fiddled with your keys for a moment, finally managing to pull out the right one and twist it into the lock, hurrying inside so you could tend to his wounds immediately. The light flicked on and illuminated your living room, causing Eren to hiss in response. He mumbled something about the light being “too damn bright,” to which you ignored.

“Don’t get blood on my cushions,” you cautioned him, taking careful steps toward the plush couch, carefully setting him on it. You tucked a pillow behind his back, adjusting it and taking care to ensure that he was comfortable before you fetched your supplies. Eren grunted lowly, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I’m serious,” You called.

“Yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes and shifted slightly to the left, wincing at the discomfort.

Heading to the bathroom on your left, you pulled open your medicine cabinet to grab a Tylenol tablet, gauze, and a few bandaids before pulling open your bottom drawer to get the rest of your first-aid kit. The light flipped off and you padded back to your living room, arms full. Carefully setting them down on your coffee table, you flicked open the plastic kit and then nodded in Eren’s direction. “Take off your shirt for me, will you?”

His reply came instantly, “Why? You wanna look at something?”

“No dumbass,” you sighed. “I have to dress your wounds.”

“Oh, right,” he opened his eyes, curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt and pulled it off his body. He went slow, careful not to irritate his wounds any further. The dirtied fabric was peeled from his skin, covered in both dried and fresh blood, combined with dirt from the ground. The garment was set next to him and his arms relaxed, falling to his side while he let out a sigh of relief.

You internally grimaced at the dirty shirt touching your pristine couch but pushed the thought to the back of your mind, instead focusing on the task at hand. Settling on your knees in front of him, you plucked the bottle of peroxide from the table, popping the cap open and pouring some on a pad of gauze before taking a glance at Eren, who’d grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the stinging sensation to come. A labored sigh fell from your lips as you quietly counted down from three to one, a gentle warning before disinfecting wound number one.

Now that all the blood surrounding it was gone, it didn’t look too deep. It just needed a band-aid and you happily pulled a bigger one off the table, peeling off the paper and pressing it to his skin. Majority of the cuts were superficial, requiring nothing but a small cleanup and a band-aid. This allowed you to move quickly (well, quicker than usual) as you tended to the man, tossing the dirtied tissues and paper into the plastic bin you’d set next to your couch.

However, there was one in particular on his shoulder that wasn’t superficial; it was deep. Deep enough to require stitches.

Eren remained quiet throughout your examination, carefully observing with curious eyes how you’d gently touched him up, softly touching his wounds with a look of determination in your eyes. You were focused, he could tell by the way you nibbled on your bottom lip while determining the severity of his gashes. You were always like this whenever you’d take care of him; secretly fussing over his health and tendency to get into fights after running his mouth.

He never knew why you kept allowing him in your home, where he’d dirty your freshly cleaned couch and fuck up things. He never knew why you were so nice to him. Why you, despite adding a snappy comment beside it, constantly offered a helping hand and took him in without him asking. Not that he would, of course, he was stubborn — you knew that very well. Too well.

You’d always been someone that could read him like a book; calling his bluff before anyone else could. It came too easy to you. He’d only known you for a couple of years but for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, you felt like home. Familiar.

You’d never called him weak, unlike the others. Unlike everyone he’d known before. to you, he was strong. Stronger than he’d ever know.

He’d spent his entire life trying to prove himself to everyone, to show that he wasn’t some kid. He had one hell of a hard head, but had guts like no other. Determination like no other.

Eren Jaeger was a forever flame.

He wasn’t aware he was staring until your voice rang in his ears, breaking his thought. “What’re you looking at?” You murmured, carefully snipping the remaining bit of thread away from his stitched-up gash. You tenderly brushed your thumb over it, wrapping it in a thin layer of gauze.

“Nothing,” Eren mumbled. “Nothing at all.”

“You sure?” You teased, a playful glint in your eyes. Eren rolled his eyes and sighed. You chuckled, giving him a quick once-over before pulling away and placing your supplies back on the coffee table.

You’d disinfect them later; you wanted to quickly take care of the mess on your couch. Standing up from your kneeled spot on the floor, you held his dirty, dark green shirt between your index and thumb finger and scurried over to your washing machine to toss it inside.

Eren snorted at this, shaking his head at your antics. Of course that’s the first thing you’re worried about.

Of course.

“Pants off,” You returned back to where he was, holding your hand out expectantly.

“Wow, you just took care of me and now you want to give me a—“

“Not that,” You interrupted him, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. “I’m gonna wash them. They’re dirty.”

“Uh huh,” The mischievous smirk returned to Eren’s face, reminding you of the boy you’d always known. His light was back and of course he had to be a little shit.

“You’re annoying.” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking his jeans and put them wash too, adjusting the load size to small and pouring some detergent in. This earned a laugh from him that made a tiny smile creep onto your face. You’d missed that laugh.

tagging: @levilaughlove69, @may8344, @proseofpandemonium, @starstruckkittensweets, @rainteslerrrr, @alrightberries, @redhairedace

#eren jaeger #eren #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #reader insert

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ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

daydreams | stranger things ; s.harrington

A/N ; Okay soooo.. Remember the two I wrote for Steve (mine, caught up in you) This is... set further down the road from those but can be a part of them if you wanna look at it like that. This is taken from season 4 Vol 2 loosely. And when I say loose I mean.. whew. Loose.

I listened to his little speech in the van and like.. I got inspired so here we fuckin go I guess.

Pairing ; Steve Harrington!Femreader. Mentions of RoNance and Eddie!Femgirlfriend.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; That scene when they're driving and Steve ahem.. admits that he wants a big family just got me all dopey, all love struck. So, this is set in season 4 but this was kind of written to be a companion piece to mine + caught up in you.

Tag List ; There's nobody on my stranger things taglist but.. I'll throw a tag to @rampagewriting, feel free to ignore if you don't want to see this bb. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including fandom piece in question is for, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Steve talking about the fact that he wants a big family (implied breeding kink) Innuendo after the fact, dry humping / lap riding and teasing. Look, this one is tame. Kinda. But the part I write to follow up to this might not be, if I actually yannow.. get off my ass and do it.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

The topic comes up and it catches you by complete surprise. You’re hanging on his every word when he starts talking about how he’s always pictured himself with a big family… Six kids. Three boys, three girls. It has you smiling softly to yourself when he brings that up. You swallow hard when he says it and you squirm a little in the passenger seat. He continues with this dreamy and faraway look in his eyes as he talks about the summers, when he’d pack everyone together into an RV or something and he’d take them to see the world. Or the parts of it they could access. There’s something about the look in his eyes when he’s talking about it that tugs at you. The mental images form in your head as he’s talking and they form so easily that it’s a bit of a shock for you.

When he pauses as he’s just started to talk about going to some little beach town in California, maybe learning to surf, you break the silence. “Go on.” you urge.

In the backseat, you can feel Robin and Nancy staring at you intently because you’ve reached out and taken hold of his hand and you’re dragging your thumb over his knuckles. You laugh softly and so does he. He shrugs, “Nothin, it’s dumb.” and he attempts to go quiet.

The silence that settles in the vehicle is thick and it’s too much. And all you can think about is how much you didn’t realize you want to be the one to give him everything he wants. Even the six kids, which considering you never once stopped to think about something so… Permanent with anybody else, that’s saying a lot.

What you’re starting to realize is huge and you’re struggling with it internally for the entirety of the rest of the little road trip you’ve all gone on. You can feel him watching you while he’s driving and you’re watching him right back. He pulls into a gas station, up to a pump to get some more gas. Eddie and his girlfriend as well as Robin and Nancy all make very hasty retreats out of the vehicle and this leaves only you and Steve sitting inside.

He chuckles awkwardly. “That was, um.. It was too much, huh?”

The words break through the happy little hazy and half-formed mental imagery in your brain and you jump a little at the way you’re shattering back to reality, pouting when you realize that nothing you’ve been imagining for most of the ride up to this cabin by the lake you’re all going to spend the weekend at is real. It’s all been imagined by you and you’d gotten yourself so lost -so entrenched in it… that you’ve been zoned out for at least twenty minutes now, just lost in it all. Trying to wrap your head around what you now know you want more than anything. With him and only him because you’ve never thought about this with anybody else.

“Look, if it’s too much or I scared you..” he speaks up again, pounding at the steering wheel lightly.

The other couples are still inside the gas station. You have a little time. Not much, but enough to say what you’re dying to.. To do something so he knows he’s not about to lose you. Because he looks like he wants to kick himself for even bringing it up.

“You didn’t. It wasn’t. I, um..” you stammer out as you glance towards the little gas station. The coast is clear.

You unfasten your seatbelt and settle yourself in Steve’s lap and you turn to face him, melting against him with a dopey little smile as you drag your finger over his bottom lip. “I want it too. All of it, okay?”

He nearly chokes on his tongue and he’s not sure whether it’s because of what you’ve just said or the fact that you’ve centered yourself right over the way he’s straining hard against his favorite jeans. His hands grip your hips and his head falls back as you roll your hips and bear down on the bulge just a little heavier. His hand wanders up beneath the little dress you were wearing and his fingers squeeze your thighs as he bucks himself up into you. He laughs. “Wow.” he mutters quietly, “You, uh… You’re sure, right?”

You nod and let your forehead settle against his as you hold either side of his face in your hands. Laughing. “Mhm.. Just curious, when did you ah… How soon do you wanna start, hm?” you rock yourself against him with another series of quiet giggles as you ask the question.

Steve growls quietly and leans into you, nipping at the front of your throat as his hand slips further up the bottom of your dress, settling palm down against your clothed sex to squeeze. You bite your lip and whimper, whining as you feel yourself getting even wetter. He locks eyes with you and gives you this gentle and yet somehow, wicked smile. He pretends to think it over.

“Tonight?” Steve laughs and he’s mostly joking when he says it but the look in his eyes is anything but joking. He looks so hungry. Like he’s barely holding on to restraint by a thin thread and any second, that thread is going to snap.

You gasp because he squeezes your cunt harder. You’re rocking yourself against his hand and whimpering and he ruts up into you from below as his forehead settles against yours. You grab either side of his face to pull your mouth against his greedily, dying for another kiss. “Tonight it is, then.” you answer quietly, unable to resist teasing him just a little more. Pussy aching at the thought of him buried inside you deep. Filling you up. And the way he stretches you out, ugh…You want it now. But you have to be patient because the cabin is at least another hour away.

“Baaabe.” he whines as you start to rock against his bulge a little more urgently. His teeth latch onto your lip and he mutters in warning, “Keep it up and it’ll be right here, right now.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #female reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Simply, yours (13)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings: language, description of injury, birth-giving (stuff around it)

A/N: First of all, I apologise it took me over a month to update this story that is so close to my ❤. Hope this update was worth the wait. We have two chapters left! Second of all, this is a tiny roller-coaster haha. Enjoy! Also huge apologies if I left someone out from the tags!!

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona @littleflowercrown13 @sebootyforlife (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13

Winter left Korea completely, and warm spring slowly welcomed itself, together with it your due date as well.

Cherry blossoms were about to be in full bloom and you asked Sukyeong to join you on a weekend stroll while Baekhyun was away on a hapkido competition with the university team. You hated staying alone and he probably hated it even more, given your blood-pressure that still didn’t stabilize itself as it should have, though it never became as severe as before. He even made Sukyeong promise to stay the night at yours so that you could have a “girls night”. When you asked why so suddenly given you barely ever did those before, he just shrugged and said: “Once you give birth you won’t be able to enjoy her company.” And he was right. Both of your lives were about to undergo huge changes, so you supported Baekhyun in doing whatever he wanted and needed to do and the same went for you. The idea that your carefree, independent lifestyle was about to be changed scared you.

“Are you sure you’re fine with walking so much?” asked Sukyeong carefully as you slowly made your way around Socho lake, the highest building of Seoul, Lotte tower, hanging above you, throwing a humongous shade over one side of the lake.

You ran your hand over the huge bump as you smiled. “Yes, don’t worry so much. It’s not like I will give birth right now.”

“You know I’m pretty sure everyone here thinks exactly that.” She looked around, noticing few people giving you a look-over. “Do you always get this many stares?”

You shrugged and took a deep breath of air. The pollution was not bad that day and the sun rays warmed up your skin in a pleasant manner. “Yeah, I do. But what can I do.”

“When is the due date again?”

“Mid-May,” you replied, the mention of the big day dampening your mood for a moment, “but that is if the pregnancy goes as planned. Apparently it’s more than likely I will go into labor earlier.”

Sukyeong tried not to pale at that, instead cleared her throat and pointed to a nearby bench. “Let’s sit. Your feet are terribly swollen,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

Not wanting to sound stubborn, you followed her even though you wanted to enjoy walking a bit more. It would be a mistake and you knew it, so you sighed big time once finally sitting down, the pressure in your legs easing up a bit.

“Why does Baekhyun still leave when he knows you can go to labor anytime soon?”

“I didn’t say any time soon,” you retorted, giggling at her overprotectiveness. “And I managed to persuade him to do the competitions while he can. If anything the birth might come early May. Which is Baekhyun’s birthday,” you said smiling. “If that wouldn’t be the coolest gift I could give him, whew. Three kids,” you chuckled and Sukyeong followed.

“Well, just make sure you’re healthy. You come first no matter what.”

Her words reminded you of your boss and his daughter-in-law; how she passed away while giving birth. Trying not to let it influence your mood too much, you looked up at the cherry trees through which sunlight was making its way.

“It’s not like I can affect the outcome,” you finally replied, “but I will try my best.”

“You better,” she almost whimpered and you looked at her, just to see her eyes bulged in fear.

“Worst case scenario they will have to open me. Even worse? They might first let my vagina tear up before deciding the rest of the kids need to come out through c-section.”

You giggled when Sukyeong gasped in pure terror at what you just said. It was obvious she didn’t know all the things that could go wrong while giving birth and you weren’t about to spill all the secrets despite you wanting to vent about it because you were scared. So scared. Terrified.

“Can you still have sex after it... happens?” she asked warily.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I can. But let’s not talk about it, it’s giving me stress.”

She was fast to massage your shoulders. “Yeah, let’s not stress you out. Baekhyun will kill me if he finds out I have as much as made you frown.”

Finally, the days that you would have to wait in the waiting room of your doctor in the clinic were lessening. Bearing three babies, it meant appointment visits every second week. Surely, you would get tired of the place and dread coming every time. Especially when every second week you would be bigger and heavier than the previous one, making it more tiring to come and spend a couple of hours outside of the house.

You looked up with worried eyes at your boyfriend who was reading a leaflet about breastfeeding, which immediately put a gentle smile on your face. The idea of Baekhyun not being scared or deterred of these topics was incredible for you. He was a special man, indeed.

When sensing your stare, he looked up with big puppy eyes, his lower lip caged between his teeth. “Huh? You said something?”

You giggled quietly as to not to disturb other ladies in the waiting room and shuffled a bit closer on the seat to press against his side. “You seem to be way too immersed in that woman's breast, honey.” You flickered your gaze downwards on the leaflet; the smiling lady holding a baby to her breast with an alarmingly slim body, yet obviously very pregnant stomach, sitting uncomfortably with you. They photoshopped everything these days.

Baekhyun gave you a confused look, blinking twice before snapping out of his weird reverie. “Oh, this- no, no,” he shook his head, smiling abashedly which you found absolutely adorable. “I was just thinking that we should talk about your plan about breastfeeding with the doctor. Do you think you can breastfeed three kids?” he asked thoughtfully, waving the leaflet in front of your face while his other hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it so that you would pay attention.

You sighed quietly, already tired at the idea of having to go through that process. It made you feel guilty, but if you were honest with yourself, you were scared and tired and achy and the last thing you wanted to think through was how your breasts would become the main food source for three tiny lives. You quickly rested your head on Baekhyun's shoulder so that he wouldn't see your fading smile. “I haven't thought about that, honey. But you're right. Let's discuss that. Maybe she can give me some life hacks.”

He chuckled softly and you instantly felt better, the sound lifting your spirits. He knocked your knee with his playfully before he settled lower on the chair so that you would be more comfortable.

As your eyes wandered around the room, you noticed several stares of the ladies who were waiting in the room, their gazes lingering on the two of you, some more on Baekhyun and some more on your huge stomach. You swore one of the young ones sighed while eyeing Baekhyun up, and you held back a scoff, feeling sudden pride that he was yours and the kids you were bearing were his.

“Your husband is so caring,” smiled the nurse that was at the reception desk, looking at you. “You both sure will be good parents.”

You pressed your lips together in a shy smile, not telling her that Baekhyun wasn't your husband. Baekhyun didn't say anything, either. The nurse continued anyway, saving you from replying: “You may enter now, the doctor is ready for you.”

“Thank you,” smiled Baekhyun handsomely at her as he swiftly stood up, holding your hand in his gingerly, both of you making your way into the well-known office.

Once settled inside, you faced the ever-so positive doctor of yours. It seemed she was more excited about your pregnancy than you were.

“So, the typical question,” she smiled widely, connecting her long, elegant fingers in front of her face, “any difficulties? Problems? Dizziness caused by blood pressure?”

“No, thankfully none of that.”

“Great,” she winked at you, “the date is fast approaching,” she chirped as she went through your records, “but as I said last time, it is very likely you will go into early labour. There is no need to panic, though, dear,” she told you kindly. “I suppose you know all of this information by now, but just to tell you once again: the best is to go to the hospital once the water broke. Unfortunately, the likeliness of them sending you home only due to slight contractions in state-owned hospitals is very high,” she shrugged, obviously annoyed at the fact. “Therefore, the best is to stay calm, wait until it becomes too much and the water breaks. Until it did, it is only the small prelude to what is about to come.”

Baekhyun was listening carefully despite knowing most of the information already, while you dreaded the entire talk about the moment everything would start happening. You kept imagining the whole process in your head, one imagination worse than the other. It was difficult to point out what exactly was it that scared you so much, but the entire idea of having to go through terrible pain, your body failing, or babies' lives failing was enough to send you into a severe panic attack.

“I can see you are worried,” said the doctor to you. “But it will be alright. Keep it up just like until now. You know, for the fact that you are expecting three, you both seem way too calm and zen about it,” she tried to joke, laughing.

Baekhyun giggled while you gave her a weak smile. “I guess we are trying to preserve the calm atmosphere before the arrival of the three babies,” replied Baekhyun lightheartedly.

You nodded. “But doc, you will be there, right?” you asked in a small tone. “I mean, in the hospital, when it happens.”

She smiled, her features softening. “I am not letting the chance to bring three babies to this world slip away, sweetie. I'll be there, and we will get through it together.”

Gracing her with a gracious smile, you nodded in acknowledgement before Baekhyun brought up the topic about breast-feeding.

“Oh, yes, very good question,” she gave him a huge smile. “You have a couple of options here. Obviously, you may breastfeed and you can also pump. Pumping is the best when having multiples, of course, but it is up to the mother what would work the best for her. Three babies can be quite the handful to breastfeed, but let's not forget that it is the best way to be close to your little ones. Mother's arms are the safest they will ever be.”

Baekhyun smiled down at you affectionately before turning to the doctor. “Yeah, we should still consider pumping-”

“Once the babies are born, we will figure out what works the best,” you chimed in gently, looking at your boyfriend who turned to look at you. You smiled at him. “We still don't know what will happen after the birth, but knowing that pumping is an option is certainly good.”

You knew well what went through Baekhyun's mind at that moment. He didn't like it when you conspired around what would happen after birth, because whenever you did, it almost always led you to two conclusions: either one of the babies would be dead or you would be dead. As much you both fought around it, you couldn't help yourself, and he tried to understand your train of thoughts, just to ease you up, but he would still voice out the hatred around the idea of him losing you.

That was why once you left the clinic, he stopped you on the street, his gaze heavy and serious. “Listen, I just want you to know that-” he took a deep breath, ignoring your eyes looking at him warily, “-whatever the hell happens during birth, you come first. I love our children already, and I couldn't be a more excited father-to-be, but-” he exhaled sharply and held your cheeks in his warm palms, his eyes glistening, “you come first to me. Always. I can't go on without you and if it ever, godforbid, comes to the decision to choose,” he shook his head, already trying to rid his mind of the terrible images, “I am choosing you over...over… the babies,” he whispered eventually, obviously pained.

You could barely make out the gentle features of your obviously scared boyfriend, because of the emotional tears that welled up in your eyes. You crashed into his chest, pushing yourself as far into him as you could, your hand having a death grip on his long-sleeved shirt. His words moved something inside of you, something much deeper than just a simple word of love and adoration. He really could get under your skin and make you feel special even through uttered words. Baekhyun was something so rare and so precious, it made you weep in gratitude. Because he was yours.

“You won't be going to training this evening?” you asked, emerging from the bedroom after your small afternoon nap you grew to be needing so much.

Baekhyun was crafting up some food in the kitchen and it actually made your stomach grumble in hunger. He looked behind his shoulder. “You're up, babe? Yeah, no training tonight for me. Jiyoung can lead the training by herself. I trust her on that.”

You nodded, coming to stand close to him, reaching up with your hand, drawing circles over his back between his prominent shoulder blades. “I'm glad you will be staying.”

“How are you feeling?”

You shrugged, still a little sleepy. “Alright, no pains so far.”

He smiled at you, nudging his chin towards the empty counter next to him. “Give me company?”

You nodded eagerly and he was fast to bring a chair to help you sit up on the counter before moving the chair out of the way. You leaned back on the cabinets while resting your hands on your belly. “What is daddy making, hm?”

“Something very delicious and packed with all the vitamins mummy needs,” he replied nonchalantly as he was chopping up vegetables.

Humming in satisfaction, you watched Baekhyun do his magic around the kitchen.

“Nothing gives you a tummy ache?” he double-checked again when he took out spam from the fridge.

At the sight of spam, you grew even more excited. “Nope! I already can't wait to try the food,” you wiggled your legs in the air and he laughed.

You chatted away the time he was moving around the kitchen, cooking and preparing plates. He was talking about the competitions and how well they had been doing in the ranks which made you proud, because of course Baekhyun would do well. He always did.

Baekhyun cleaned up the kitchen before serving the food on the plates and he walked to stand in front of you with a gorgeous smile. You returned it, opening your legs so he could stand a little closer, which he did. Leaning in and kissing you gently, he hugged you to him, hiding his face in your neck while one of his hands reached for the hem of your shirt, bunching it up to reveal your stomach. He wordlessly caressed it with gentleness before pulling away to give you another kiss on your lips.

“Love you,” he whispered into your lips, pecking you again.

You giggled and he moved his head to your tummy.

“And I also love each and every one of you, my loves,” he mumbled to the bump and pressed three kisses. Just then, you gasped, feeling the discomfort of the well-known action by now. Couple of tiny feet could be seen on your skin covering your stomach, and both you and Baekhyun laughed affectionately when you saw Baekhyun incredibly happy that the babies were so responsive to his honey-like voice. It had been happening for a few weeks now where he would kiss them goodnight or goodmorning and he would receive a kick in greetings.

Your heart swelled with love and warmth, and for a moment you became eager to see him with the babies and how he would play with them and treat them. He would look so lovely, you thought while watching your boyfriend giggle and caress you a bit more before bringing you into a happy kiss.

“I love you, too,” you mumbled in between and he gave you a curious gaze. You smiled. “I didn't say it back just now.” And then you pressed his cheeks together with your hands. “Aaah, what to do with you, you're so cute! Your cheeks!” you screeched in a coo-voice that made him frown at you which only made him look funnier to you. “Wah, but really, Baekhyunnie, what the hell? It isn't fair for you to be so dangerously hot and then suddenly cute like a puppy!”

“Yah, yah, enough,” he muffled through his squeezed lips, “the food will get cold.”

“But you are soooo cuuuteeee!”

“Enou-”

“Who are you this cute for?” you rambled on, giggling happily and finally let go of the poor man.

Baekhyun leaned away, still in shock at your antiques, though you could see amusement glistening in his eyes. “I suggest not to do this to our babies. It's a traumatic experience.”

You burst out laughing and he followed too,when he suddenly became serious and leaned in closer, his breath fanning your ear which sent shivers down your spine, halting your laughing fit. “You're so lucky I can't do anything to you right now, sweetheart. But just know that I am keeping a punishment list for you once you give birth, mummy.” You felt his hands squeezing the outer side of your thighs, his fingers sliding down and under your knees.

You swallowed harshly and looked at him when he turned to look at you. “That was hot.”

He smirked. “So I'm not so cute anymore, huh?”

It has been a day now that you started to feel slight pains just like on the days when you had a strong, painful menstruation. When the first wave hit, you started to get a feeling of what was about to happen. You just didn’t expect it to start happening so... soon. There were still a few weeks left. Were you even ready for what was about to go down very soon? You had to be even if you weren’t.

The next day you went to bed in peace, Baekhyun bringing your body closer to his even when he knew you would grow very warm over the night and shift away. He caressed your bump before he lifted the blanket and your shirt, and moved to kiss the skin tenderly.

“Goodnight, my loves,” he pressed three kisses and kept looking a little longer in hopes to see a kick back in reply. Few days ago one of the babies kept kicking like crazy and Baekhyun concluded it was the hapkido baby. You giggled, already imagining Baekhyun teaching your kids hapkido, them in their little uniforms and having little, clumsy moves.

“No activity today,” he rasped with an amused smile as he lied down next to you properly but you stopped him with a guilty smile. “Huh, what is it?”

“I really need to pee. Can you come with me to the toilet? Pleaseee,” you wailed, trying not to wiggle too much because you were growing uncomfortable with the slow start of contractions and the pee pressing down on your uterus.

Baekhyun smiled and nodded. “Let’s go.” He took your hand and helped you up.

Quickly tiptoeing to the bathroom, once finally inside, he leaned against the sink while you sat down on the toilet, looking up at him with big eyes.

He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, the shirt tightening around his pecks.

You felt a stronger wave of pain in your lower tummy and you groaned gently as your pee seemed to become endless. Baekhyun noticed too.

“Wow, when was the last time you went to the toilet? That’s a lot of pee there, mummy,” he joked, mistaking your groaning for relief but you didn’t feel the relief peeing was supposed to give you anymore.

You raised your butt lightly and looked between your legs (or wherever you could look due to the big tummy) at the water-like liquid streaming strongly down your thighs.

“You okay?” asked Baekhyun, frowning when he saw you looking longer than it was normal.

Another small, but stronger wave of pain washed over your insides and you felt like crying as you looked up at your concerned boyfriend. It was about to start.

“Baekhyun. My water broke.”

“I'm so scared, Baekhyun,” you whimpered when you were in the hospital room, both of you left alone until the contractions would get intense enough to go into labour. “I'm so scared.”

Finally, you could let your guard down. You were heaving, your body already reacting to the pains, growing more and more frequent and painful. Sitting on a huge, pink pilates ball, you tried to sway your body on it while your arm was connected to an IV drip, but there were tears streaming down your face..

“Shh, shh, it's alright, you're alright, baby,” he cooed gently as he sat behind you on a chair to hold you up. “You're doing great.”

You pressed your lips together to prevent an ugly sob. “But what if-”

“No what ifs,” he replied calmly from behind, sweeping your hair back and tying it into a messy ponytail so it wouldn't be in the way. “Everything is going as planned, honey.”

You were quiet for a minute, fighting the bulge in your throat. Your legs were wobbly and it seemed like you were heading straight into a panic attack, which was anything but good.

Baekhyun, sensing your stiff composure, stood up and right in front of you, helping you up on your legs. “Sweetheart,” he mumbled lovingly, searching your gaze. You focused your eyes on him. “I've got you. I'm here and we will get through this together.” He held you close, eventually deciding to hug you. “If you need to cry, do it. Don't hold back.” Lazily, he drew circles over your lower back that he knew was the most painful part of your back. It brought instant relaxation, though you still hissed at another wave of contractions that made your knees weak.

Baekhyun supported you, holding you up as you groaned, hiding your face in his neck. “It hurts,” you whimpered weakly and let out another groan when a strong pull rushed through your lower abdomen. Your breathing grew frantic, sweat breaking around your hairline.

“I think-” you paused, squeezing your eyes shut as the contraction wouldn't go away.

“Let's call the nurse,” suggested Baekhyun before quickly helping you sit down.

You would have called after him to stop him from going away from you, but you lied back down, pushing your legs together, the pain growing almost unbearable.

Nurse arrived quickly followed by your boyfriend who tried his best not to look too shocked. After a quick check-up, the nurse smiled. “We are ready!”

Three babies being born (two girls, one boy) too early, you were separated from them right after squeezing them out. Not having time to even properly hold them, you only got to see the nurses placing them in the blanket before rushing them out of the room while their cries were piercing through your ears. You were swimming between complete exhaustion and overdrive as you cried from pain that came from your body as a woman who just gave birth and at the same time as a mother who couldn't even hold her babies in her arms after finally helping them out and into the world.

Baekhyun was completely helpless, standing next to you and trying to get a glimpse of the little ones, but he wouldn't let go of your hand. You were desperately holding onto him for dear life.

Feeling his own tears roll down his cheeks at what just happened, Baekhyun quickly brought your head to him, hugging it to his chest while you cried, your voice already hoarse from screaming before.

Nurses were roaming around you and it was just a matter of seconds as you heard them telling you they had to stitch you up and your doctor, the ever-so-kind doctor, appeared in front of you. “Give her anesthesia.” She looked at you and Baekhyun, who wouldn't let go of you. “The babies will be alright, but they need to be in the incubator for the time being because of the early birth, sweetie. Please calm down. Right now we have to stitch you up.”

“S-stitch me up?” you stuttered.

She had an apologetic smile and she shot a glance at Baekhyun, who straightened up. “You are severely torn up. So let's quickly tend to the open wound.”

You grew almost sick at the idea and you were sure Baekhyun was completely frozen, though he snapped out of it pretty quickly as you whimpered again in fear. Exhaustion was taking over you quickly.

“You're doing phenomenally, my superwoman,” Baekhyun whispered into your ear as he caressed your hair, pressing multiple kisses there. He was completely shaken up by what he had just witnessed in the past hours, but he had to stay strong for you just a little longer.

You sighed once more before you saw the doctor ducking between your legs again and starting another small intervention.

You closed your eyes and focused on Baekhyun's powerful presence.

You were left without your three babies.

You were left torn open.

But you were alive.

You all were alive.

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