#anon i should have you know this prompt has me by the throat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

howyouloveyourdragon · 4 months

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Tԋҽ Sσϝƚҽʂƚ Lσʋҽ

summary: sometimes all you need is a gentle lover and a comforting hand, Jacaerys knows this all too well with you at his side and a crown at his temple request: Hii can I request a softest love prompt 2&7 for Jace:)))) pairing: King!Jacaerys x reader pronouns: she/her dividers by: saradika and cafekitsune wordcount: 2,659 prompts: 2. touching foreheads in a hug, 7. that gaze--tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you" banners by myself A/N: i really hope you enjoyed this anon! let me know!

“AND IF we are unable to find said payment or refuse, then it is a reasonable assumption to make that–” The droning speech of Isembard Arryn, Master of Coin, continues despite the Jacaerys’ clenching jaw and slitted gaze. “War is no solution.” Lord Cregan Stark swiftly interrupts him, glancing his King’s way as the words pass him. It is no secret that the King is not fond of division nor war. Jacaerys stays staring ahead, gaze hard and impenetrable. “We have the money.” He contributes, voice uncharacteristically gruff. You squeeze his hand but as quickly as you can blink, he brings your palm to his lips and places a deft kiss there. Soft and gentle as it had always been. The council pauses at the motion then returns to the matter. They shift in discomfort, they continue to look at his stiff form. “I believe, our liege, that–” Lord Thaddeus Rowen, Master of Laws and lord justiciar begins. “My Hand is right, let us rest on the matter.” Jacaerys snaps briskly. Lord Rowen clears his throat and lets a childish huff pass him. “The decision should be made with haste, your grace, Lord Baratheon shall not be so kind. He will–” Arryn presses further before– “We will let it rest!” Jacaerys shouts with suddenness. He stands and slams one cold, commanding fist against the table. Each breath is held at such an outburst and for once, the King is not blinking at the nothingness of a floor or blankly ahead. Purpose takes flight in his eyes, directing their focus as sharp as a blade on the infuriating man.

Silence presides over the table, It echoes and flickers with the rage of a King’s charge. Your King had spoken and if his council continued to defy him, you were certain that it would end less than favourably for them. And so, you circle your thumb of his hand and latch your eyes on the side of his face until the pull of your attention tugs him back to you. His eyes lock on your own–at first they stare with the stark hardness of stone. They swim with slitted irritation and glare with a gruffness unknown to you. But he is still your Jacaerys and it takes not long before he softens at your own gaze, you are enough to gentle him. You always are. Jacaerys swallows and turns his gaze back on his dispersing council. “I meant not to frighten you.” He uttered quietly. His body lightened like a feather and his sights trained on the stone table before him. As easily as he does so, you stand and cup his face with your unarmed hand. Your fingers flatten against his face and turn him once more before you. “You could never frighten me.” You reply simply, closing your eyes. Simpleness was your most favourable quality. Everything you cast him was with ease, no secrets stood between you both. It was a relief after so long at troublesome court for you both. A bated huff fluttered with purpose through his nose and it took little for the both of you to rest your foreheads together. He releases shuddered breaths which follow the seam of your mouth. “I love you.” He whispers. A smile pinches at your lips. “I love you too.” You return as the doors swing shut. Another sigh passes through your husband and relaxation washes over him.

Finally everyone has left, Jacaerys’ arms wrap around you and fingers are already pawing at your gown. It comforts him to feel you, to clench that fabric up in his balled hands and know you’re there. What feels even better however is when a warm, firm kiss is planted against your forehead. And then you hear the most lyrical words…“I love you so much I can barely breathe.” And you let out a shaky exhale. You flutter against him and it almost entices his arms to hold you tighter. The sweetness of his voice plays like a melody through your ears until they circle your brain and lull it to stop the whirring. The whirring that had become so painfully familiar. So painfully consistent. It reminds you of your lover. Not your husband but your lover. The marriage had been chosen for you but that did not mean that your love had been, as Jacaerys cares to remind you each eve as he twists those silken fingers through your hair, as he kisses his affection down your neck until caressed bruises lay in his wake and colour with the pink of his love. Because he does love you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves–He loves to be yours, he reminds you as he pulls away. The drapes flutter the cold air inside as swiftly as you can imagine wings could. It folds over you in the space between yourself and your husband. Slowly, your eyes open to find him already gazing at you with his wear lovesick gaze. The gaze that buckles your knees and has you unable to as much as glance away from him. Not for a single moment.

A shaky sigh sputters from The King of Just’s lips. The people had named him as such after the activities of his on-running reign. Of the odd mercy that he had approached his former enemies with. You think of these events as his fingers dance into your hair. His eyes follow fast to his own actions, fascinated in the treasure within those fingers. Of what he has been blessed to hold, he vows to hold you dearly. Tenderly. Softly. As he does so, your own sights linger on his face. At his pillowed lips and dark, thick eyelashes. At the short scar that stretches along his jaw and chin. The tips of your own fingers flutter toward it like a moth to light. Your thumb lays gentle touch upon it and smooths along the surface. Again, a sigh passes through him but with the gentleness of a doe. With the timid, uncertain glance of a doe. The thought amuses you but you allow it to settle. Breath threads between you both and tugs you ever closer. Ever where you belong. But when he finally presses a kiss to your lips, it barely greets the skin. There is something divinely religious in the way he caresses your lips with his like an idol. Worship dances along his tongue and almost expels prayers from his warm mouth. His thumb detangles from your hair and cups your face. His thumb rolls slow circles into your cheek as his kisses press on between unkempt words. “I love you.” He utters in repetition. “I love you, I love you,” His nose burrows into the side of your own until you almost become one body entwined only with itself. The words tangle themselves in the sweetest patterns throughout your brain and chest.

Your face turns to face the tall dark door. “They must know that war will not be sustainable.” Utters through you, the spell of confusion and aged bewilderment leaves through an exhale. “We have funds to cease such affairs, why cause a fate of destruction?” Jacaerys feels his jaw soften and his eyes stare distantly into your face. With two gentle fingers, he turns you back towards him. “Men will destroy aplenty for power. I know that all too well.” His gruff words murmur through the air. Your eyes stare into the harsh darkness of his gaze – warm amber turns to stone. Your eyes continue to trace down his ridged nose and chiselled jaw, his plump lips. Something possesses you to caress them with your thumb – slowly parting them until his teeth peek out like shining pearls. His throat bobs but his shoulders stay calm as he leans in again. Jace had been not only your dearest love but your most sweet and that meant more to you than words could ever detail. His lips brush against yours before diving between them and all you can remember is that he feels like home. Jace feels like home. Your Jace. His soft love addresses you and only you – he needs not hide it from anyone. Not even from irritative lords in council chambers. Because you were not only his wife but his Queen. And he has no intent to keep that a discretion. His kiss blossoms your flesh like the blooming of your affection; tentative, tender and tenacious. You would not release it for the world. Not for any Kingdom or cure from mortality for you would happily die in his embrace. Endure any erratic wars or gruelling hardship. It is hard to imagine that you would ever deny him your kiss – the memory flutters the reverberation of a laugh from your mouth.

Jacaerys has never thought himself one to offend but even less so to cater to the whimsy of romance, yet the moment your laugh reaches his ears, he feels himself reflect one himself. The hair of his fringe passes your own forehead as your press ever-closely together. The thought of parting from you for even a moment brings him heartache. His hands wrap atop the circle of your waist and squeeze with a playfulness unknown to those outside your threshold. “What is that which has you fluttering?” He delights in good charm. He cups your face with one broad, warm hand and rubs the skin. “Hm? What has my dereworthy darling fluttering so?” His amusement only triggers you moreso. When you return him your gaze, Jacaerys can recall why he wished to paint your face upon glass. He wishes to keep your sculpted, smiling face forever in view. It matters not should you outlive him so long as he need not spend a single moment without the sweet, shining eyes of yours. The brows of his face cannot help but droop at your mere sight. His expression stays tender and intense. How could he ever meet a woman of your beauty? He is certain that your charms were not merely a gift of Gods but the heavens themselves. “My joy, I nearly refused you.” It is that of befuddlement which pinches and clouds your pleasant face. A shake of your head rustles the strands of your hair. “How could I ever have refused you? My heart…”

A chuckle rumbles throughout the King’s chest and he tucks the brushes of hair behind your ears. His sights skid across your features but not in search – he has every answer he could ever need and in the safest of vaults. The vault of his heart. You truly were the sweetest of wines, the holder of hidden truths and the wielder of worlds – his at least. “Tis not your fault, you had not met my charms until our day.” At the mention of such a date, he earned his years of prize – your smile. “To all truth, such an hour frightened me once.” “I know.” He murmured, grinning like a feline. “Of course, then I knew too.” Your eyes widened and the shortest intake rushed to your mouth. “Surely, you jest!” You all but scold, horror in your eyes. He shakes his head, humour all-consuming as he doubles over and squeezes his eyes. “I do not!” Jacaerys claims. “I was quite nerved by it, for what reason is it that had you to assume I not taken you to bed that eve if not your considerations?” His left brow rises and the air suddenly feels stifling. “I…” You stumble with abash. “I had presumed you had not taken a liking to me yet.” At that, Jace is quick to disagree and nuzzle his nose to yours. “I could never not want for you, sweet wife. You are the most beautiful of women and the most kind.” Your head tilts in that darling way that it only calls for when you are unclued. “For days I–” His voice lowers, his gaze flickers over your face. With a swallow, he summons his courage and rubs his thumb over your jawline. “For days, I took witness to your reading in the gardens. To my cousin on her walks there.”

You had not realised he had seen you with little Jaehaera. The recollection of memories flushes your cheeks. You do not know whether it is your own self-pride or embarrassment. It makes him smile–how easily he can fluster you. “I saw you while passing a window and…Well, you charmed me. Heart and soul, you charmed me.” For a moment, all he can do is stare into your eyes, his gaze soft. “I…” You hesitate, wracking your mind for any clue of the past to which you had ignored but you find nothing. “I had no idea.” You murmur with the quietness of a newborn lamb. He only smiles. “I know, my darling.” Tease carries through his voice. “That is why I love you so; you had not a clue as to anyone witnessing you and your beauty at all.” Adoration was not new to Jacaerys; he had been well accustomed to the Goddess before him for years now. The hand not upon your face runs small circles on your middle. “It is when nobody is watching that I see your heart.” He lands a feather-light kiss to your nose. “I love you, my darling, I love you.”

Your love is one of quiet halls and whispered confessions. Your love is of a King seeking for the mercy only his QUeen can bring him. The mercy of a gentle home. A gentle life amidst the meddling and politics of a life forever in court. You admit that your own love for your husband came later–the fear of marrying a prince heavy on your mind. The expectation that would come with that also gives no bounds. You still recall how trembles had shaken your form as your father hurried you through the luxurious spectacle. The aisle had been a long, empty space in where you could barely catch the face of your soon-husband and Septon. Surrounded by men and women, ladies and lords of note and yet you had not known nor met. Yet when you had finally forced your figure to stand beside the three men who would cement your future, the only calm you found was through the comfort and Jacaerys’ hand resting on yours. Both of your fates to be entwined and tied. You were together, hands warm and clammy with nerves but together. You were not alone. When he searched your eyes for any hesitance throughout the ceremony and whispered in your ear to ask if you were certain–that was when you knew. You were not alone. He would not allow you to be alone.

Now, as tears kiss your cheeks. Of affection and warmth–you can still see that look in his gaze. That kind, soft, assurance that you are not alone. “I love you.” You whispered to him, unable to hold back. It does not take long at all for him to press his lips to yours again. His hands caress your face and his care is unavoidable. And when you parted, he still chased for you. “We should retire to bed. The children will have missed us.” You explain quietly, reluctant to leave. A sigh spills from him and although you both stand there together for another second of tenderness, of softness, you know that he agrees. Ever the dutiful father. He would not let a single eve leave them without a story before their rest. “Do you think they would prefer another tale of Nymyria?” “I think they would care greatly for it.” You agree. He takes your hand in his and draws you out of the chamber. The door closes quietly and so are your footsteps as the two of you walk through the hall. The soft rays of sunlight passing down to caress the dusk echoes around you. And like his love–some things are better kept soft.

General Taglist: - @hopelesswritergall - @succnfuccubus - @madame-fear

HOTD Taglist - @wrendermedone - @its-actually-minicika - @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly - @adelusionalwriter - @cookielovesbook-akie - @maximofftwinsbitch - @ughhthisbitch - @daenerysapologist - @savagemickey03

Jacaerys Taglist - @fairysluna - @jacevelaryonswife - @maximofftwinsbitch

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k2ntoss · 4 months

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i feel like I've been MIA for too long lmao but hooo boyyy i have so many thoughts now because of that prompt list omg 🫠 i NEED -Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.- and “Spread your legs baby, that’s it…Wider.” with Jason immediately please Mara, the brain rot demands it 😭

-🦊

JUST LOOK AT THIS, MY FAVORITE ANON !!! (as if it wasn't clear before) have i told you already how i love the way your mind brings the brain rot to work??? well, i do. let's get at it, babe

fucking someone so good they struggle to kiss you back + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"

movie nights are for two things, actually watching your movie selection while cuddling with your partner or to completely ignore whatever was playing on the screen while your partner fucked the life out of you. you go guess what was jason's plan for tonight's movie plan.

you're actually trying to focus on the movie, your eyes fixed on the screen as you lay on jason's chest and he holds you softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he leans in to leave a soft peck on your skin. it's innocent and sweet at first but then one of his hands slides under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing abstract lines on your stomach that made your attention drift away when he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"jay... are you even watching the mo–" you were speaking, trying to scold him but your words caught on your throat when his hand moved further up and cupped one of your breasts at the same time he licked your neck.

"i'm not watching the movie, baby" he whispers against your skin, his lips gracing your neck right before he kisses that spot behind your ear "i want to get touchy with my pretty girl."

"oh, so you want to get touchy?" you ask, there's now a hint of amusement and mischief on your voice as you turn your face to look at him and jason can't help but chuckle and nod, like a kid that's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to "and who said i wanted to let you, jaybird?" you ask but deep down you knew you would let jason get his way with you anytime he wanted to.

"you... you're not doing a thing to stop me from touching you like this" he says, his voice is low and his hands are now both on your chest, he squeezes your tits firmly before lifting your bra "it is because you know you're all mine to enjoy or because you want me to actually feel you up completely?"

the way he speaks and touches you manage to drag a soft moan out of your lips and it makes him feel powerful because he knows how to make you melt. that's what he wants, jason wants to be the one to always make you feel good, he wants the reason you smile and moan, the only one to know every corner of your body so he could give back all the good things you gave him.

jason really enjoys the way it's so easy for him to shut your mind off with the smallest touch when mixed with the right words, he loves whispering into your ear and kissing your neck just to see how needy you can get from it but it was just the effect jason's touch had on you and he couldn't deny you could do the same to him. so now when he gets your shirt lifted and squeezes your breast while kissing your neck he has to hold back a moan when you move and push him to be able and sit on his lap.

"sometimes you should try to pay attention to a movie, you know?" you ask teasingly, leaning in to kiss him again and jason misses no time to let his hands snake under your shirt again just to feel those goosebumps on your skin. it's unthinkable to try and stop to resume your initial plans because your boyfriend is now sucking a subtle trail of small marks on your neck while he starts pulling your shirt off and when he is done your bra stands no chance against him.

"the movie can wait, we can watch it after i make you scream and beg for more..." jason whispers into your ear and he smirks when you tug at the neck of his hoodie, he knows he won and he takes it off and that's when the last strand of control you had vanishes at the sight of his toned body, the faint scars scattered over his skin around that one on his chest that ran all the way down to his stomach it only made him way more appealing.

he really loves the effect he has on you, it makes him feel like he really deserves the way you look at him and how you touch him as if he was your most valuable treasure and he was, his touch equals yours; needy but still lingering enough to make sure you know how he values the fact that you are with him, his grip firm but loving as he holds your hips to make you grind against him once he takes off those comfy sweatpants you wore to bed and that he loved because of how the hugged your figure.

clothes do not last on your bodies and it isn't so much until your body is completely pressed against his while he makes you put your hips up, jason lets his hand wander between your thighs until he has two fingers sneaking over your folds, flicking your clit as he smiles smugly at you.

"do you still want to watch the movie, ma?" he asks, voice now deeper while his finger traces a trail between your folds, teasing your aching pussy before he slips his digits into your entrance. jason looks at you, the hunger in his eyes only adds to your arousal as you grind your hips against his palm, the calloused skin brushing against your swollen clit.

you grunt something that sounds like a shut up and a please mixed up in a hushed moan, as your boyfriend keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you while he kisses and bites your neck, the smirk on his lips doesn't leaves when you struggle to beg him from how much he teases because his free arm is around your back and his hand is now groping your breast.

"already so desperate? i just started, sweetie" he coos you mockingly as he slowly lays you down under him, lips trailing down your neck until he is now kissing and biting on your nipple "just look at the pretty mess you are, all wet around my fingers and you could just cum like this... should i let you get off like this?"

"god, jason– don't do that, i need you" you moan breathlessly and for some reason his words only get you more needy, making jason feel a huge ego boost as he gives you that pretty shit eating grin before he switches to your other breast, sucking and teasing you more as his fingers leave your pussy, entrance now clenching around nothing.

there's a feeling of relief once you can see jason moving to be between your legs as he trails his kisses to your tummy, lovingly and devoted and his hands squeeze your legs softly to try and help your body to calm a little to no overstimulate you just yet.

"spread your legs baby," he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin and the sweetness on his touch and words makes you comply without thinking twice, your legs spreading almost on its own for him "that's it... wider" he says now smugly, seeing the way you open up just at his presence makes him feel so powerful.

he holds onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs until he makes them rest over his shoulder. his hand guides his hard dick until his tip is lined up with your pussy and he pushes in, slowly as a low growl escapes his throat, holding onto your hips to give a first stroke.

"so fucking thight and i had already stretched your pretty cunt before" he says, his body still until you nod for him to start moving and he doesn't hesitates to start with a quick pace "that's such a pretty toy i got myself, didn't i? i just have to touch you and you'll let me have my way with you..."

he makes it sound so good you can't help but moan, one of your hands reaching for his neck to pull him from his nape; fingers tangling on his hair as you bring his face close to yours and jason only makes his thrusts faster, hiting all the right spots as he holds you bent like this.

"jay– jay please" you whine as you try to really bring his lips to yours, it amuses him and you hear it on his rumbling chuckle, his hands gripping your hips in a way you knew your skin would be painted in finger-print-bruises by tomorrow but you just loved that, silky skin painted with his hickeys and bite marks, a sing of that ownership he had over you.

"use your words, princess," he whispers into your ear, the sound of the dominance on his voice making you moan loudly when his hands also squeeze your ass playfully "you're a big girl, you can use that pretty mouth of yours can't you?"

"please, kiss me jay" you beg, voice shaky as he pounds into you and the way jason is closer now on top of your body, his shoulders still holding your legs up just making the angle perfect for his tip to kiss your cervix.

jason does as you ask, leaning in a pressing a bruissing kiss on your lips and he seems pretty resolved to devour your mouth like that but instead he's met with you really struggling to kiss him back and he is lost in this discovering. it encourages him to move your body as if you were a pretty doll for him to use, placing your legs against your chest but this time only over one of his shoulders.

"feels like too much, pretty doll?" he asks, whispering into your ear almost in a growl and he changes his pace, slowing down to give you deep and slow strokes but still slamming his hips against yours.

"too good, jay... feels just so good" your voice slurred as you cry for him to move a bit faster but jason has just found out how to play with you a little more.

"yeah? you sound way too pretty for me to change the pace, crying like a desperate slut" the use of names sends a shiver down your spine, jason knows what buttons to push in order to get your pleasure to skyrocket and he is really proud of it as he keeps pumping into you, hissing in pleasure when he feels your walls clenching around him "god this feels so fucking good, i could cum into you so deep baby, you'll feel me right here"

one of his hands wanders from your hips to your belly and the thought of him reaching so deep inside of your body is enough to make your body tense, there's something new to all of this because you've felt way more sensitive than before and jason is feeling way too eager to find out how much he can do with that.

"jason please, fill me up like this" you say in between shaky moans, legs trembling already and the way you look at him through those teary cute doe eyes makes him throb into you.

"want me to breed you, baby? i want to see you dripping full of me" he says, his pace fastening again but it grows sloppier as his hand moves from your belly to one of your tits, squeezing it and toying with your nipple "you look so pretty like this, angel, so ready for me to use your body over and over again"

it's amazing the way jason manages to shut your brain off, making your words catch on your throat and turning you into a whimpering mess. rocking your hips to meet his movements until your orgasm hits you, pussy squeezing him like a vice, almost making it impossible for jason to keep thrusting inside of you.

the pleasure of your body washes over him, bringing his own climax to his as he releases into your throbbing pussy as he slows down, letting out a low stream of curses before he comes to a halt still holding your legs against his chest.

"i don't think we'll be watching that movie now, ma..."

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lnfours · 9 months

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Helloooo prompt (maybe reverse) "i pictured you with other girls in love... then threw up on the street." With Lando x reader (she is a legal expert for McLaren) having a fight because he underestimate her job. So during a social event, after seeing her smiling and talking with Charles about her work activities, he gets jealous and afraid of losing her.

god anon, thanks for killing me! tom’s-gf has been found dead!!

this also got so long omg i’m sorry

10k celebration

lando felt sick. physically ill, almost like he was going to throw up.

“you okay, mate?” oscar asked his teammate and friend, worry etching his face. lando was unaware of his paleness, his eyes visibly sad as he looked over towards where you were standing with charles.

he had his arm wrapped around your waist, head leaning down towards your face so he could hear what you were talking to him about. you had a bright smile on your face and he could tell you said something funny with the way his friend’s eyes squeezed shut, both of your giggles almost loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“lando?”

his attention flipped back to the aussie next to him, shaking his head and furrowing his eyebrows as he desperately tried to fight off the nauseating thoughts of you and his friend that snuck into his head. anxiety was a fucking bitch.

“yeah, i’m good. why?”

“you look pale,” oscar stated, “and you keep looking at y/n and charles with this weird look in your eyes, almost like you’re sad.”

lando shook his head, swallowing the sip of his drink, “nah, i’m good, mate,”

oscar quirked an eyebrow, “did something happen between the two of you?”

lando immediately was transported back to the hotel mentally, where a little over an hour ago the two of you had it out. he was frustrated, and he took it out on you, which he shouldn’t have done. and one thing led to another…

“seriously, lando, i don’t fucking tell you how to drive the car! why’re you trying to tell me how to do my job?!”

“i’m just saying that maybe you should try getting behind the wheel of a literal rocket before you complain about your job to me.”

he didn’t mean to sound like he was underestimating you or your job, he knew you worked hard for the company. he knew how many late nights you had pulled at the office to get extra work done and to stay ahead of things. he wasn’t entirely sure why he said what he said, but now he was really wishing time travel was real so he could go back and undo it.

lando’s silence was an answer, “mate, just go talk to her. i’m sure she’s over it by now, whatever it is. you know her, she doesn’t stay angry for long.”

oscar was right. you got over things quickly, only really needing twenty minutes before you moved onto the next thing. but right now, the anxiety was eating at him as he watched charles lean in closer to you for a photo. he just had this overwhelming feeling that you hated him and that this was it. it was the end of the road for the two of you.

oscar grabbed the glass from his teammate before shoving him forward, “my god, go!”

lando compiled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he concentrated on not letting his legs give out as he walked towards you two. your eyes landed on the worried looking brit, your eyebrows furrowing. your confused look caused charles to turn around.

“hey, mate,” charles said, “you’ve gotta hear about this story y/n just told me-“

“actually,” lando cleared his throat, “i was wondering if i could borrow her. i’ve got to talk to her,”

he sucked in a nervous breath as you responded, “yeah,” you grabbed your purse off of the bar behind you, looking over at the man next to you, “i’ll be right back.”

you led lando through the groups of people, the fresh air filling lando’s lungs as he desperately tried to feel better. you stood in front of him, searching his eyes.

“you look pale,” you frowned, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, “you feeling okay?”

his heart was going a mile a minute, his hand grabbing yours. your eyes met his in silent question, “i’m sorry.”

your expression softened, “lando-“

“no,” he said softly, “i’m sorry. i know how hard you work, and i had no right to yell at you or tell you that your job isn’t hard. i could never do the things that you do. you’re absolutely incredible and i’m sorry,”

you let him ramble on, waiting for the right time to speak, “you never complain and it was dick move for me to yell, just please…”

he felt like he couldn’t breathe. you frowned, knowing what was going through his mind all too well. a small tear dropped from his eyelashes and your heart shattered in your chest, “lando,”

he licked his lips, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. his shoulders shook and you reached out to him as he let out a quiet sob. you wiped the tears away from his cheeks before wrapping your arms around his neck. he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, immediately clinging to you as he buried his head into your hair.

you rubbed his back, “it’s okay. i promise, it’s okay,”

he sniffled softly, “you’re just the best thing to ever happen to me, and i don’t want to lose you over a stupid argument. i’m sorry. so so sorry,”

you pulled away, meeting his glossy eyes and giving him a soft smile as you wiped away the fallen tears, “it’s gonna take a lot more than a silly argument to push me away.”

he let out a soft chuckle and you smiled, “there’s that smile.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, mumbling a soft, “shut up,”

you reached up and planted a kiss on his lips. his mumbling against yours when he pulled away to breathe, “i love you.”

“i love you more, handsome.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #fluff #blurb #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #🍾; jordan’s 10k celebration

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thecuriousquest · 7 months

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U2 & Bakugo?

You dropped this: 👑

-🧼

Leaving Isn’t Easy

Thanks, Soap Anon! You’re too much of a cutie pie. Love you tons, and thanks for the awesome prompt request!!! Bakugou is one of my favorite characters to write for! 🖤🤘

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW (abuse), violence, hitting, face slapping, kicking, hair pulling, physical threats, knife threats, Katsuki is a sad boi, kidnapping, choking

Request: “The only way out of this house is death.”

Yandere Alphabet Prompt

Master List

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You’re fighting for your life, clawing at the arms of the hulking pro hero above you. Katsuki Bakugou chokes you with scarred and heavy hands, making you feel as though he’s about to crush your neck and kill you at the same time. Your legs go from thrashing and kicking wildly to twitching as your soul slowly slips from your body.

Just as the last of your life clings to you as if trying to hold on for just a little bit longer, he decides to let go. Bakugou gets up, kicking you so hard in the uterus you think you might be infertile now. He’d be doing you a favor, but still, it hurts so badly that you can’t help but vomit.

Gasping for air that you feel will never come to you, finally, you manage to suck in a deep breath. Wiping the bile from your lip, you look up at him with rivers in your eyes. Drops of rain cling to your lashes, rolling down your cheeks in despair.

Pointing an accusatory finger at you, he snarls in your face, “Don’t you fuckin’ look at me like that when you were the one who tried to leave! If I hadn’t caught you, who the fuck knows what could’ve happened to you, dumb bitch!”

“Bakugou…” you whisper with slight resistance in your voice as an arm clings to your hurting lower stomach. “It’s not too late to let me go home. I won’t tell anyone. We can act like this never happened.” You can’t help the cough slithering up your throat like a dry snake with rough scales.

His palm cracks down on your cheek, his other grabbing you by your hair, forcing you to look into dark rubies hidden by ash blonde hair.

“It’s Katsuki! This is the last time I’ll say it: This is your home now. Get that through your fucking head because the next time I have to say it, I’ll make you carve the words into your own arm with a dull knife.”

“Okay! Katsuki, I’m sorry!” You throw your hands up, a pleading gesture for mercy. You’re apologizing even though you did nothing wrong.

The sting in your cheek and your hair has you begging him for relief, screaming for him to let you go. He shoves you back, sending your head mere inches from banging against the hardwood floor. You stop yourself from hitting your skull in time, sending your arms out to catch yourself.

You watch, wearily, as he slides down the wall, letting his hands catch his head as he rakes fingers through his spiky hair.

“I don’t want to have to keep repeating myself. I love you. ‘M not letting you go, dumbass.” He grabs you by your ankle, reeling you in towards him.

It surprises you, and you grunt in pain as he collects you in his strong arms. He sits with his legs crossed, and he places you in his lap like a child holding a puppy.

If he’s trying to comfort you, it’s not working. You’re tired of crying. You no longer want to break out into tears because of this man, but he kicked you, slapped you, kidnapped you, and threatened you. This isn’t even the first time he has assaulted you. You feel like you should have built up some kind of immunity to his cruel treatment by now, but you react the same way every time. You’re scared of him, and it shows.

His voice grows rougher, deeper, sadder as he leans into your hair, placing his chin on your head. “I won’t lose you. I…can’t lose you. You’re mine, and you’re not going anywhere. You hear me? The only way out of this house is through death.”

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere themes #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #mha katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader

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vilevenom · 3 months

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Hello, Anon! Thank you for your prompt!

I've seen a couple of fics where Branch has that conversation with his brothers, and it tends to get explosive. I tried to take a bit more of a calmer approach to it to help with the fluff. I also won't lie, John almost stole the spotlight from Branch, but I managed to wrangle it back, lol

Enjoy!

Things had been going so well. Branch's brothers were all sat in his bunker, clustered around his tiny kitchen table, the surface laden with half empty plates of snacks and various cups and glasses from drinks they had been going through as the evening had progressed. But then, there was a lull in conversation.

"Hey, uh…not to be that troll, guys-" Clay began, interrupted by a quiet snort from John Dory.

"Then don't."

Clay shot John a glare, but continued, a look of concern settling on his face as he looked to Branch. "Look, I don't wanna be the troll to bring the mood down, but I gotta know. It's been bugging me since you said it, Bitty B." He ignored Branch's grumpy "It's Branch", pressing on as he fiddled with his mug of tea. "Did Grandma really get eaten?"

A hush quickly settled over the brothers. Branch looked taken aback by the question, while John scowled at Clay. Bruce looked a bit squeamish as he stared at his own glass of water, while Floyd gasped and sat back in his chair.

"What happened to grandma?!" Floyd asked, turning urgently to Branch.

Branch looked distinctly uncomfortable, swallowing thickly to try and rid himself of the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. "Oh, right. That," he mumbled, pulling his hands from where they'd sat on the table top to fiddle in his lap. He took a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to explain to his brothers what the last two decades of his life had entailed. "Okay. Quite the change of topic," he let out a nervous laugh. His brothers deserved to know what had happened to their grandmother. "I guess I'll just start at the beginning. Uhm…a year or two after you all left, the chef started grabbing one or two trolls at random, rather than just on Trollstice. We never knew when, or even why. I think, in retrospect, the previous Bergen king probably just got greedy and wanted to feel happy outside of Trollstice." He cleared his throat, glancing up at his brothers, who were now all staring at him intently. He flushed, ducking his head back down to stare at the crumbs on the plate in front of him. "So, one day, grandma and I were outside. She was hanging laundry, while I practiced singing." He clenched his fists in his lap, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "I got so wrapped up in my song, I didn't hear her yell. I didn't notice until she was running at me. I looked up, and there was chef. Reaching for me." He paused to take a shuddering breath, letting tears slowly track down his cheeks. "Grandma pushed me out of the way. She got taken, instead."

"Oh, Branch," Floyd murmured softly next to him, his brothers hand landing gently on his shoulder. He shrugged it off out of habit, curling a bit in on himself in his chair.

"If I'd been paying attention, she wouldn't have been grabbed," Branch muttered, his colors dulling slightly as he spoke.

"That's not your fault, B," Bruce said, shaking his head as he put his hand on the table in front of Branch, "You were just a kid." He paused, noticing the way Branch's blue fur seemed to grow a shade duller. "Does the color of your fur have something to do with…all that?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Branch sighed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face, angrily wiping tears away. His brothers should be furious at him for getting their grandma killed, but they were treating him so gently. He was both angry on their behalf, but also relieved that they hadn't walked out on him once again. "Yeah. I turned grey after that."

A collective, quiet gasp went around the table.

"Grey? For how long?" John Dory asked, sitting forward in his seat, "It had to have been a long time, if you're still dark."

Branch glanced up, a sardonic little smile on his face. "I guess twenty years is a long time."

"No way. Twenty?! Branch…" Clay shook his head as he trailed off, disbelief on his face.

"I had to take care of myself, after that. Other trolls thought there was something wrong with me, because I didn't sing or dance anymore. I was never happy. King Peppy was good about telling trolls to leave me alone, but that was a bit of the problem. They all just…left me alone," Branch explained, feeling Floyd's hand on his shoulder again. This time he let it stay. "When we escaped the troll tree, I almost got caught in the tunnels. I was small, and because of my colors I almost blended into the dark. No one really noticed me. Somehow, though, I made it out. I travelled with the other trolls until we found where we would build pop village. I was about five or six when I started digging the bunker."

"Six?! Oh, Branch," Bruce said, tears in his eyes. Branch glanced at him, and he could tell his brother was thinking about his own children, and what might become of any of them if they were left on their own at that age.

"You're made of tough stuff, kid," John piped up from across the table, lifting his chin defiantly as his other brothers shot him glares. "You made it. You persevered, and survived. I'm proud of you."

Branch blinked, shocked by the sudden show of support from his oldest brother. It made something angry and bitter flare in his chest, though. He clutched a hand to his chest, letting out a breath. He sniffed back the tears that had formed in his eyes again, glowering slightly as he looked around the table at his brothers. "It would've been easier if any of you had come back."

At that his brothers all immediately looked guilty. Floyd especially as his parting words rang in his head. He wrapped his arms around himself in a self-soothing gesture, staring at the table as Branch spoke.

"I'm angry, and I'm sad. I feel so bitter about all those years, where it seemed like none of you even /thought/ of me," Branch said, turning his gaze upon each of his brothers until each one, in turn, looked away in shame. He waited a moment for his words to settle, before speaking again. "But…I'm also so happy to have you all back in my life. Even if it's twenty years too late. I missed you guys. Every day."

"Branch," Floyd gasped next to him, his voice waving as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. We're all sorry," he added, glancing at the others, who all nodded in agreement. "I don't have any excuses. I should have come back," he said, reaching out to take Branch's hand. "I made you a promise, and I broke it. And I don't really think there's anything I can do to make it up to you."

Branch gave Floyd's hand a little squeeze, offering a watery smile. "You can. You can stay. You can spend time with me, and we can get to know each other again."

"I would love that, Branch."

"I just want to state, for the record," John Dory piped up from across the table, "I did come back."

Clay rolled his eyes, while Bruce scoffed, but John sat firm, a look of determination on his face as he stared Branch down. "I did come back, and I thought you were dead."

"You thought he was dead? Come on, John, that's a bit much," Clay snorted, shoving lightly at his brothers shoulder. But John just shook his head, scowling.

"I thought you were all dead," John stated bluntly. "I came back after the trolls escaped. The tree was dead, and most of the pods were wrecked. I had no idea you all left Grandma's pod after I did. What else was I supposed to think?"

"You just assumed we all died? Not that we'd escaped?" Bruce asked, arching an eyebrow at John.

"We left when the escape plan was still in talks. A small handful of trolls getting away wasn't unheard of, but the whole tree? I mean, I had a little hope, but what was the likelihood? What would /you/ have thought, finding grandma's pod covered in half dead vines and not a troll in sight?" John half snarled, shooting Bruce a scowl. "But, oh, that's right. You were off on a tropical island, drinking mai tais under the sun and learning how to surf."

"Hey, now," Floyd interrupted as Bruce puffed up indignantly, obviously about to get into a fight with John, "Let's just take a moment to breath. This is all a lot, and emotions are getting high."

Bruce let out the breath he'd taken, visibly deflating, while John huffed and crossed his arms, scowling at the table top.

"What happened after you came back to the tree?" Branch asked quietly, John's head snapping up at the quiet question.

"I looked for you," John admitted with a shrug, letting his shoulders slump and his arms uncross. "I looked for quite a while. I lost track of time, but it had to be for at least a year. The forest is huge, and the village was well hidden. After a while, I thought I must be the last pop troll alive and decided to go see the rest of the world."

"And you…did you go grey?" Branch asked, watching his oldest brother curiously as he reached up to fiddle with his goggles.

"For a little bit," John admitted, "While I was looking for you. Not anything as drastic as twenty years. And I got my colors back. The world is big, and beautiful. It's hard to stay hopeless when you see some of the stuff out there."

Branch smiled tiredly at John, nodding a little. "Yeah. It is. Poppy helped me see that."

"Is she the reason you managed to get your colors back?" Clay asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

"She did, yeah. A little over a year ago, Chef found the village. She kidnapped a bunch of Poppy's friends, and we went to Bergen town to rescue them. We brokered peace with the Bergens, and I got my colors back all in one fell swoop," Branch said with a light little laugh.

"And then you saved the world from the rockapocalypse with her," Bruce teased, grinning.

"That was mostly Poppy, but yeah," Branch returned the grin, startling as John suddenly stood up. He watched as his oldest brother rounded the table, staring wide eyed even as John suddenly engulfed him in a hug.

"I heard you on the radio," John muttered into Branch's hair, "It's how I found out you were alive."

"JD," Branch murmured, reaching up to half return the hug, ignoring the light smattering of tears that were hitting his shoulder.

"You are the coolest, Bitty B!" John suddenly crowed, pulling back from the hug with a broad grin on his face, shaking Branch a little, "Saving the village, then the whole world! Dating the Queen of pop!"

"Bringing us all back together," Floyd added, offering a watery smile as Branch looked to him.

"You grew up into an amazing troll, Bitty B," Clay added, grinning at his youngest brother.

"We're all really proud of you, Branch," Bruce finally added, nodding a little as Branch began to tear up once more.

Branch squawked as John engulfed him in a hug again, laughing as the rest of his brothers rose from their own chairs to join in. "Thanks, guys."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #brozone #prompt fill #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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shaynawrites23 · 8 months

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For your 200 follower celebration!

💋: I'd like one with with Sirius black! And the number... 58!!!

Congratulations to you on hitting 200! That ought to be a big achievement! I love your work BTW! Keep going!

Show Me

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Prompt: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

Word count: 678

Warning: suggestive content, implied smut

A/N: im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever 😅 trying to stretch my writing muscles by doing a few blurbs before i write the longer requests, thought i'd clear out my inbox while im at it! whoever you are, anon, i thank you for the support and i hope you enjoy the drabble if you see this!

It started as a date. You haven't seen your boyfriend in some time, and the moment your schedules aligned, Sirius declared in his usual fashion that he was taking you out on a date.

In hindsight, you should have known it would end this way, and... maybe you wanted it to. You're dressed in the outfit he loves so much on you, smiled so innocently at him when he came to pick you up and ignored the way his breath hitched the moment he laid eyes on you. Or... well, Sirius believes you're only pretending not to notice.

He hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all evening. A hand on your back, fingers tracing shapes on your thigh before he forces himself to let up on you slightly, hand reaching for yours, stealing a kiss every chance he gets... even as you leave, he has an arm around your waist, holding you close, smudging a kiss to your hairline paired with softly murmured words you don't catch.

And now...

Now, his lips are on yours before you've even entered your apartment; you're still blindly fumbling for your keys and have to push him away, just for a moment, else you're sure you'll be standing outside all night. He looks confused for a moment, and hurt, but then you're flinging the door open, tugging him inside with you by his belt loops, and the pieces click.

He kicks the door shut with his foot. You barely have time to register the dull slam of the wood before he's pulling you into him—or maybe you're dragging him closer by your hand on his collar—and he's groaning out a "fuck, so fuckin' pretty, darlin', my gorgeous girl-" before your mouths meet again, hot and greedy and wanting.

Sirius backs you up as he kisses you, strong hand gripping your hip. He knows the layout of your apartment well, too well for the way he bumps you against the corner of the dining table to be anything but carelessness. To his credit, he apologizes when you wince, hand moving to soothe the sore spot, but you've already forgotten about the incident, too lost in the way he's kissing you.

God, how you love his kisses. He has a way of kissing you so sweetly, moreso than you expected of a man like him, and that sweetness isn't lost even as his kisses turn deeper, hungry and impatient. Sirius kisses you like he wants you, like you're special, makes you feel like you're valuable, like you're worth it, and... and of course he does, you're all those things to him-

You're not given time to dwell on it, though, not with the way he's filling every corner of your mind. Sirius has quite the personality, too much for some, but you love him all the more for who he is. And right now, he's your breathtakingly handsome boyfriend who's leaning over you, pressing you onto your bed as he settles between your legs, and now your breath is catching in your throat.

"Merlin, look at you. My stunning girlfriend. Most attractive woman I've ever seen," he breathes when he pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and admire you. You look like a work or art to him, a goddess, with tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, panting and reaching for him like you miss him even though he's right there. He obliges, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his teeth graze your pulse, his mouth kissing its way back up to yours. "Bet you did in on purpose, tryin' to test my restraint... darlin', don't you know what uou do to me when you dress up all pretty like that?"

Breathless and not about to admit you chose your outfit with him in mind, though you're certain he knows, you only shrug, and you feel his lips quirk into a smirk just under your jaw.

"Oh, gorgeous, I'm gonna show you just what it does to me."

That he certainly did.

#shayna writes #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius drabble #sirius blurb #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius imagine #sirius black imagine #sirius fic #sirius black fic

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drabblesandimagines · 8 months

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can we get something with the FF16 girls for the 400 request? I'm not sure if you write for the girls too, but I really want a Girl Talk with Jill, Tarja, Vivian and reader 😩 where, for example, they encourage Jill to confess her feelings to Clive? and maybe with Jill throwing reader under the bus in which she expose that she sees the tension between Joshua and reader just to draw the attention away from her? 👀❤️

Thank you, anon! This was a fun prompt - I hope I did it some justice and got everyone in character. Please drop me an ask and lemme know what you think xxx Lead By Example Joshua Rosfield x fem reader, fluff 1,327 words

“I still remember that look on his face five years ago when he saw you in your new clothes, Jill,” Tarja teases, leaning across the table as she speaks. “Could’ve knocked him down with a chocobo feather.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jill replies. “I looked quite the state when he first saw me, it must’ve been quite the transformation.”

“That’s not what Tarja meant and you know it,” you elbow the Shiva Dominant in the side, lightly.

“Mayhaps I should add the study of romance to his curriculum.” Vivian adds, before taking a sip of the ale, trying her best to hide her grimace. It’s never quite sat with her palate.

You’re all sat in a corner table in the Ale Hall, the other patrons having long left. It had been a while since the four of you were in the Hideaway at the same time, or at least you and Jill – Vivian hardly left and Tarja only occasionally. You’d arranged to supper together to catch up, which had led to the late hour. Jill had returned from an outing with Clive that morning and the conversation, encouraged along by some of Molly’s brown, had moved along to the relationship between one Lord Rosfield and one Lady Warrick, much to the latter’s embarrassment.

“Clive still would never admit to it. The man’s swore blind to me he’s fine when he’s quite clearly bleeding.” Tarja counteracts.

“I think Clive’s too reserved to be so bold with his feelings.” You grin. “It’s going to have to be you, Jill.”

“I assure you I am unaware of what you mean.” She replies, lightly, scrutinizing the contents of her own tankard.

“Oh, you certainly do. Come on, Jill, please take the rest of us out of our misery. Founder, the whole Hideaway has witnessed the lingering glances between you both. We should probably put it in the welcome speech. Welcome to the Hideaway, where you are free to live and die on your own terms. And, yes, Clive and Jill are infatuated with each oth-“

“What about you and Joshua?” Jill interrupts, a knowing smile on her face.

It’s as if your brain stops working for a moment as her comment renders you speechless. You swallow, your throat strangely dry, and try and sound confused. “W-what?”

“What’s all this?” Vivian places her hand under her chin, leaning more towards Jill’s direction. “This bit of information has yet to cross my table.”

“There’s not any information… I mean, I don’t know where you’ve got that impression.” You protest, taking a sip of ale to try and steady your nerves.

“Come to think of it,” Tarja mulls, “I may have heard a certain name mumbled when Joshua was resting in the infirmary.”

“You did?” You shake your head. “No, you must be mistaken. There’s nothing between me and Joshua. You’re just trying to distract us from the real matter at hand of you and Clive.”

“Of course not,” Jill smiles, slyly, “I just want my dear friend to be happy – you should tell him how you feel.”

“There’s nothing to tell him, but you and Clive however-”

“No, I think Jill is correct. I have observed your interactions, there’s definitely something going on there.” Vivian drums her fingers on the table in thought.

“Especially as you’ve gone as red as his cowl at the mention of his name,” Tarja muses.

“You’re all wrong - I do not love Joshua.” You protest, a little too loud for the hour.

“Ah, we didn’t say you did. How odd that you’d be so defensive of something we did not state.” Vivian smirks.

“I didn’t mean-”

The door to the shelves open rather abruptly, causing you all to stop short. You thought Tomes had retired hours ago - you’d seen him depart, even - but the figure at the top of the stairs is not him, but one clad in red and black with a mop of blonde hair…

“I beg your forgiveness for interrupting your conversation, ladies,” Joshua begins, striding down the stairs. “I’m afraid I got rather carried away in my research till this late hour.”

“Were you successful?” Jill queries.

“In certain matters, yes.” The Phoenix grins, approaching the table, a certain glint in his eye and your stomach flips. Could he have overheard Jill? “I hope your evening has been enjoyable.”

“Oh, indeed.” Vivian smiles. “It has proven quite… fruitful.”

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, curious.

“In fact, we were just talking about you, Joshua.” Jill smiles and your heart is pounding. She wouldn’t…

“Oh,” he looks over at Tarja. “I suspect my reluctance to take your most recent concoction.”

“Not quite-” The healer begins, but you jump to your feet, startling them all.

“Apologies, but I am quite overdue my bed, so I will bid you all a good night.”

Fate has other plans – or maybe it’s your nerves and the ale – because as you turn to step away, you stumble, catching your boot on the edge of a floorboard. Joshua is swiftly at your side and catches you by your elbow, preventing you from greeting the floor. He rests his hand on the small of your back as he helps you upright.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine, thank you.” You hope the low lighting of the Ale Hall is hiding the red in your cheeks. “Just a misstep.”

“Well, permit me to escort you to your bunk, my lady, lest any more steps betray you so.”

“Oh. No, that’s kind, but I’ll be-”

“I think that is a fine idea, Joshua – thank you.” Jill smiles, folding her hands in her lap. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, ladies.” The Phoenix nods his head in greeting, before encouraging you forward towards the stairs, one hand still lightly gripping your arm and the other still pressed against your back.

He’s polite enough to pretend he does not hear the outburst of laughter as the two of you reach the boarding deck and walk along, heading towards the mess to cut up past the infirmary to the bunks.

You should say something, you reason, but your tongue won’t co-operate with him touching you, holding you so close. Glancing to the side, the moonlight is clearly illuminating the amused expression gracing his features.

“I…” You begin, but falter off as your mind and mouth fail you.

“I am not sure if you’re aware, but the acoustics from the Ale Hall at this hour travel remarkably well into the shelves…”

You swallow. “I… am not sure what you thought you heard, but-”

“No, I wholeheartedly agree.” He comments as you both begin to ascend the stairs to the mess. “Jill does need to confess. I love my brother dearly, but he’s always been far too reserved in matters involving his heart.”

“I worry she thinks he’s too busy for such things. I do just want the two of them to be happy.”

“Well, perhaps I should give him some guidance.”

“Oh?” You pause – you’d crossed the mess and were now at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the bunks. Joshua drops his hand as you stop and you immediately miss the warmth.

“Clive has never been a scholar, so I will have to more practical in my example. Would you permit me to demonstrate?”

He couldn’t possibly mean what you think he means, but you nod firmly all the same.

Before you can blink, he wraps one arm around your waist to pull you close, his other hand resting between your shoulder blades and he presses his lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss. You can’t comprehend how the evening has ended in this way and can’t help but pout as he moves away.

“Hm.” He muses, dropping his other hand down to your waist to embrace you fully. “Though that was a fine example, I do believe we should practice a little more, just to make sure we really get the point across – wouldn’t you agree, my darling?”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #joshua rosfield x you #joshua rosfield x reader

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

Being a pack means sticking together-in more ways than one. And when one member of the pack is missing, everyone feels it, but especially the head alpha. Chan's never been good at expressing his emotions, or coping with them. Luckily, he's got eight people on his side to take care of him when he can't.

A/N: NIKKI (🦈💙 Anon) WHERE ARE YOU. THIS ONE'S FOR YOU BBY. THANKS FOR THE PROMPT IDEA. 💗

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, Poly!SKZ, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Bang Chan, Lee Minho, Seo Changbin, Han Jisung, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin, Y/N, SKZ imagines, SKZ reactions, SKZ scenarios

Genre: Fluff, Light Angst

Title: Before You Know It

“It’s just a week.” You say with slight consolation, as you snap the last closure shut on your suitcase, and zip up the final pocket of your backpack.

Jeongin whines-a sad, plaintive sound-and Felix groans, as Hyunjin complains heatedly, “Yeah, but a week is gonna seem like a lifetime, noona!”

“I know.” You glance up at the trio of omegas with a slight grimace, and step toward them, giving them what you hope is a convincing smile as you tousle Jeongin’s dark hair. “But I promise, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t leave us, noona.” Jeongin begs, clasping warm fingers around your wrist so you can’t pull away, as the scent of yeast and baking bread sharpens noticeably in the air. “The hyungs will make us do things with them, because they don’t want us to mope around and be sad, and god forbid I have to go to the gym with Changbin-hyung.”

“Or cook with Minho-hyung.” Hyunjin visibly shudders.

Minho appears in the doorway then, pointing a warning finger at the suddenly contrite omega. “I heard that, Hwang Hyunjin. Kitchen duty. All week.”

Hyunjin groans, and Felix gives him a sympathetic pat on the top of his head.

Changbin joins Minho in the doorway then, glancing over his shoulder, taking in your current predicament, trapped between the three whining omegas, and shoots you a clearly sympathetic look, before clearing his throat.

“You need to get going soon, or you’re gonna miss your flight, baby girl. Pass me your suitcase.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh out, though you know he’s right, and untangling yourself from Jeongin’s grasp, doing your best to ignore his sad whine at the loss of contact, you sling your backpack over your shoulder, rolling your suitcase in Changbin’s direction.

He lifts it easily, and disappears, presumably in the direction of the car.

Minho offers the omegas a shrewd look as you cross the room to stand beside him.

“You three. Find something else to do. (Y/N) needs to get her ass to the car before Christopher has an aneurysm.”

“I swear to god-” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, heaving a sigh as he pushes himself up off the bed. “-he’s like a dad in that regard.” He pitches his voice lower in a representation of the head alpha, scowling his face into a serious expression as he waves a finger between the other two omegas. “‘You know the saying when it comes to the airport, Hyunjin, three hours early, or consider yourself late.’”

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Chan appears then, letting his hand drop affectionately onto Minho’s shoulder, as he glances at Hyunjin, one dark brow disappearing into the curls of his bangs.

Hyunjin snorts. “Of course it is, hyung.”

“Hyung.” Jeongin whines out, bounding up and across the room to throw his arms around Chan’s middle. “Don’t let noona leave.”

“Ah, Innie.” Chan cards his hand through Jeongin’s mop of hair, where the omega is currently burying his nose into his ribs. “This is a good opportunity-a great one even-for (Y/N), yeah? She’s been invited to this conference because she’s one of the best in her program, and we should be nothing but proud of her for it.”

You offer him a grateful smile, and he tilts his head, watching you for a moment, as Jeongin mumbles against his sweater, “Yeah, I know. Still sucks though.”

“It does.” Chan agrees quietly, and something melancholy flickers across his expression, quick enough to miss, before he leans over to press a kiss to the youngest omega’s head. “But she’ll be back before we know it.”

“Okay.” Minho interrupts, reaching forward and taking your backpack from you before you can think to protest, giving the remaining members of the pack a sharp look as he ushers you toward the waiting door. “Noona really needs to get going now. Say ‘bye noona!’”

“I love you, yeah?” You manage to brush your fingers with Hyunjin and Felix’s outstretched hands as Minho pulls you out of the room, calling over your shoulder loudly, “I’ll video call every night, okay? I’ll be back soon!”

Chan murmurs something beneath his breath to Jeongin that you can’t quite make out, and then the omega is slinging his arms around your waist for one more quick hug before retreating back to the older omegas waiting on the bed.

The smell of bread lingers in your nose, even as you step outside into the crisp Autumn morning air.

Changbin is leaning against the car, trunk still popped, deep in quiet conversation with Seungmin, when you all emerge, but they both look up at your exit from the house, and Changbin steps toward you, taking your backpack from Minho and placing it with your already packed suitcase.

“All ready?”

You nod, biting your lip, and Changbin offers you the hint of a smile, before he crushes you to his chest in a strong hug, and you let yourself enjoy the feel of his warmth for a moment, the smell of smoke in your nose, both a contrast to the chill bite of the morning air.

“You’re gonna be great.” He murmurs into your hair, nose brushing the crown of your head, and you manage a nod. “And don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

You sniff, and he squeezes your arms with the warm palms of his hands, before he releases you, turning to shut the trunk.

Seungmin steps up to you then, straightening your jacket, and looks you seriously in the eye, his lips a thin line.

“If you embarrass us, or the department, in front of all those big wigs, I’ll personally have Minho-hyung murder you.”

You laugh, the sound slightly watered down, and throw your arms around the beta.

“I’ll be sure to name drop you before I do anything even slightly embarrasing.”

He grins now. “You would.”

You grin back. “Only for you, baby.”

There is the jangle of keys as Minho tosses the set to Chan, who has once again joined you all, ball cap pulled low over his face, breath steaming in the cold air.

He rubs his hands together and glances in your direction.

“Ready?”

“Almost.” You assure, before you turn to Minho, who suddenly looks like a cornered feline ready to bolt at any moment.

“Don’t.”

“Minnie.” You wheedle, stalking toward him, even as he backs away from you, eyes flashing dangerously with his glare.

“Don’t.”

You practically tackle him with the force of your hug, and you hear the air leave his body in a little oomph of sound, even as you bury your face in the jacket he wears, the smell of spiced amber tickling your nose, lulling your worried brain into a sort of safe space, at least for the moment.

“I love you.”

“God.” You can hear the smile in his voice, even though his actual words are dripping with feigned sarcastic annoyance. “I hate it when you’re sappy like this.”

You tilt your head back and grin up at him, and he crinkles his nose in disgust.

“I know.”

He sighs, like the weight of the world is suddenly on his shoulders, and shoves you away, back toward the car. “I love you too or whatever. Now get going.”

You take a step back, giving him a little wave.

“Tell Jisungie bye for me, okay? And that I’ll call tonight?”

Minho nods and waves you toward the car with his hand, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve said. He has a break from clinicals at noon, text him from the airport and tell him yourself.”

Chan opens the passenger door of the car for you, and you slide into the seat, the blast of the heater a welcome warmth on your feet, as you wave to the pack members standing on the front lawn, and then to the trio of omegas just visible in the front window, noses pressed to the glass.

Chan closes the door, saying something to Changbin and Minho, muffled and unintelligible through the glass and over the sound of the radio, and then he crosses in front of the car to slide into the driver’s seat.

Turning to you, he offers you the hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ready?”

You glance out the window, waving one last time to your pack, and take a deep breath.

“Ready.”

The car lurches into motion and heads off down the street.

*******

Chan is tapping his fingers against the steering wheel along with the beat of the music, and your exit is looming dangerously quicker and closer, when you finally decide to ask.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze jerks to you, and he looks almost guilty, before he blurts out, a little too quickly, “Yeah, why do you ask?”

You shrug and let your gaze drift out the window, to the cars blurring past, the giant green signs announcing the approach of the airport.

“Because I know you.” You reply simply, not looking at him, even as your wolf twitches its ears in sudden interest, the smell of petrichor growing heavy and damp in the small space of the car. “And I know how you are.”

“And how am I?”

Out of the side of your eye, you see the corner of his mouth lift into the start of an amused smile.

“Selfless.” You answer immediately, and Chan’s head jerks in your direction, surprise washing across his face. You glance at him now, expression serious, even as the car angles to take the exit for the airport. “You fake it til you make it, because you want everyone else to be okay first, even if that means shoving your own emotions and worries down deep to deal with later-or maybe even never.”

He opens his mouth to protest, and when he speaks, the words are a stammer, “No-I don’t-that’s not-”

You level him with a stern look. “That’s exactly what you do.”

He sighs, long and heavy, and stares out the windshield, fingers once again tapping on the steering wheel, but in an almost anxious pattern now, no longer keeping to the beat.

There are a few moments of silence, the airport now looming, and then you let your hand drop onto his thigh.

“Christopher.”

He chuckles beneath his breath, though his knuckles are tight around the steering wheel as he maneuvers the car into the drop off lane.

“You sound like Minho.”

You smile, tight lipped, and watch as he finally pulls the car into an empty space at the curb, sliding it into park before sighing once more and turning to you.

He turns off the radio and opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come out.

You tilt your head and watch him, the people and traffic bustling busily past your stand still, but inside the car, it’s just silence, and things unsaid, and the smell of heavy incoming rain.

“I don’t-” Chan starts, his voice quiet, and he clears his throat, glancing away from you now, eyes scanning the passengers streaming into the airport.

He tries again.

“I don’t want you to feel bad for going.”

Your fingers squeeze around his thigh, and he blows a hiss of breath past his teeth, glancing down at your hand, before he threads his fingers through your own.

“I know. I don’t.” You assure, squeezing his hand once more.

He flicks his gaze up to yours and offers you the hint of a tight lipped smile. “You know how I get-a little too protective and entirely too worried for my own good. I just don’t like the pack being split up, it puts me on edge. But I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because you’re going to miss me like crazy?” You tease, trying to lighten the mood, as you lean over and nudge your nose into the side of his neck just below his jaw.

“That too.” Chan chuckles, letting you nuzzle against him for a moment, scenting him, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

The smell of wisteria and rain mixes pleasantly, and you relax again him, if just for a moment.

Finally, you sigh regretfully, and pull back from him, offering him a silent apology with your eyes as you glance down at your watch.

“Channie-”

“You have to go.” He nods, something brief and unreadable flashing across his gaze, before he offers you another half hearted smile. “Go on then.” You twist the door handle, even as Chan gets out to unload your luggage from the trunk, helping you into the straps of your backpack, before you take the handle of your suitcase in your palm.

He’s watching you fondly, a little sadly, and you throw your arms around him for one last petrichor soaked hug.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He pushes you away from him gently, in the direction of the doors to the terminal, and motions with his head for you to get going.

You do so, reluctantly.

“Now get going, and make us all proud, Little Miss Scientist.”

You grin at him over your shoulder.

“No promises.”

Chan tilts his head and grins, his eyes crinkling and dimples appearing.

“You’ll definitely be the sexiest scientist there, if that’s any consolation.”

You roll your eyes and wave.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re just biased.”

He arches a brow at you.

“So what if I am? I’m also right.”

You point a finger in his direction as the sliding doors automatically open up before you, and the wave of heated, airport air washes over you, along with a million unknown, overwhelming scents.

Your wolf whines, instantly on edge, and you pull your mask up over your face.

“Take care of yourself, Christopher. Or I’ll sic Minho on you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to roll his eyes and wave now.

“I’ll be fine.”

One last wave in his direction, and you disappear into the airport.

******

Chan is not fine.

He’s spent two days in the studio cooped up, not eating enough and definitely not sleeping enough, when your call comes in.

He picks up on the third ring.

“Hey!” “Hey.” Chan forces a bright cheeriness into his greeting that he doesn’t feel, grimacing at how fake it sounds, even to his own ears.

Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

He leans back in the desk chair, creaking beneath his weight, and stretches his arms above his head, feeling his back slot back into place.

He gets a whiff of the smell of his own body as he does so, and cursing his hypersensitive nasal capabilities, tells himself that maybe it’s time to go home and take a shower.

“How’s D.C?” He asks instead, because he doesn’t want to think about that, not right now.

“Oh my god.” You repeat again, voice rising in pitch and volume with your excitement, and Chan can practically see you waving your hands with your words in his head. “It’s amazing, Channie. There’s so many brilliant presenters and I’ve learned so much, not to mention, it’s been incredible to see things I’ve only heard about in theory done in demonstrations and-” Chan’s eyes feel heavy and tired, and he glances at the bright light of the computer screen-the unfinished song currently taunting him, the cursor blinking idly-and catches a brief reflection of himself, all pale skin and dark circles bruising beneath his lash line.

He rubs a hand across his face, if only to rid himself of the sickly reflection, and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Chan.”

“Mmm.” He hums a sound of acknowledgement beneath his breath as he hears you say his name, and suddenly feels all too guilty for letting his exhaustion tune you out. “Yeah, I’m here, baby.”

There is a brief pause, the silence trickling down the line of the call, and then your voice, quieter now, more serious.

“Binnie says you’ve been spending a lot of time at the studio. Working on your new stuff.”

“Yeah.” He replies, without really thinking, before he clears his throat and forces a bit more enthusiasm into his words. “Yeah! I’ve been making some good progress I think.”

“That’s good.” He hears the hesitation in your tone, and his wolf growls low in agitation. “You’re taking care of yourself, right?”

Chan doesn’t like lying to you, he doesn’t, and his wolf absolutely abhors it if the low rumble of a threatening snarl starting deep in his throat is anything to go by, but he doesn’t want to worry you, doesn’t want to dampen your trip, doesn’t want to have to explain to you why he’s sitting in the studio for the second day in a row, wearing the same clothes, hasn’t even been home, nothing but the wane, cold light of the monitor to keep him company, a thread of a dozen unread messages the only testament to the actual depth of his solitude.

So instead, he forces a lightness into his words that doesn’t at all reflect the tired, dull ache in his bones, in his head, and lies through his teeth.

“Yeah, I’m taking care of myself, baby. Besides, that’s what Minho’s for.”

He hears you let out a breath, heavy with relief, and then the smile is back in your tone when you reply.

“You’re right. He won’t let you starve.”

The pounding behind his left eye is starting to hammer into a crescendo.

There is the sound of a door opening through the speaker, a few hushed words, and then your voice, apologetic, regretful.

Chan’s wolf is torn between feeling protective and absolutely miserable at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“I’m really sorry, baby. But I’ve got to go. The next panel is starting soon.”

Chan swallows hard, his throat feeling coated with sand.

“Yeah, no. I get it. Go save the world or whatever.”

You laugh, and it’s honestly the most beautiful sound Chan has heard in two days, though it sounds like it’s somewhat underwater and he can barely keep his eyes open now, the headache hammering away at the inside of his skull with a vengeance.

His fingers find the power switch for the monitor and flip it, and the room is plunged into darkness.

“I love you. I’ll see you this weekend, okay?”

Chan stares up through the darkness at the ceiling, the phone held loosely in his fingers, warm against his ear.

His entire body aches.

“Yeah. Can’t wait.”

You make a kissing sound through the phone, and the line disconnects.

Chan sits there for a moment, in the dark silence, the phone still held beside his ear, and closes his eyes, the exhaustion making his body feel heavy, useless.

His wolf whines, pacing circles, and he finds himself searching for any hint of wisteria, any lingering shell of frost, but all he finds is the mustiness of his own studio, and the smell of bitter rain.

*******

“You look terrible.”

Chan manages to sling his backpack close enough to the closet to count, and kicks off his shoes without really looking.

Seungmin will berate him in the morning, but right now, he can’t even convince himself to care.

Everything inside of him is being pulled toward the thought of a warm shower, and then the familiar cozy comfort of his bed.

Sleep. That’s what he needs.

“Thanks.” Chan manages to reply, though the words sound slurred, even to his own ears, and Minho looks less than impressed.

“I saved you some dinner if you want it-” The other alpha intones blankly, reaching to pull open the fridge for Chan to see.

Chan’s entire body revulses at the thought of food.

Sleep.

“No.” He shakes his head, and his vision is blurry, and it’s hard to focus on the outline of his boyfriend against the sudden, bright light from the refrigerator in the dimly lit kitchen. “I’m just gonna head to bed I think.”

“Please tell me you’re gonna shower first.”

That’s Hyunjin, sitting cross legged on the counter top, his nose crinkled in slight disgust-presumably at Chan’s musk-even as he helps himself to some of whatever batter Minho is currently making for baking.

The elder swats the omega’s hand away with a wooden spoon.

“Hwang Hyunjin, I’ll pull off your fingers.”

Chan doesn’t even hear the luna’s retort, already stumbling out of the kitchen and down the hall blindly toward the end of the house where his bedroom and bathroom reside.

Shower.

Sleep.

He manages to make it down the hallway and up the stairs without falling-a considerable accomplishment considering his eyes are already half closed-but his traitorous feet slow, and then stop, outside of a door that is most definitely not his.

Why are we here? He asks his wolf silently, the exhaustion making his brain cloudy with confusion.

And then, he smells it.

Wisteria. And frosty pine.

The confusion muddling his brain is gone in an instant, swept away like wisps of clouds in the face of a head wind, and Chan is suddenly on full alert, every inch of his body tingling, his nerves electric.

Mate, his wolf whispers, and he reaches for the closed door, letting his fingers skim over the cool knob of the handle.

It might not help, of course he knows this, the logical part of his brain is already balking at the idea, but he lets his hand turn the knob anyway, and before he can second guess himself, steps into the quiet, dark of your room.

The scent, your scent, that lingers, instantly has every muscle in his body relaxing.

The headache that has seemed to plague him for the last two days is suddenly quiet, no longer knocking at the inside of his skull.

Mate, his wolf hums contentedly, and something inside of Chan has him taking a few steps toward the bed, his fingers trailing over your neatly tucked comforter, that is, until they touch something unexpected, something slick and cool, almost like plastic.

Curious, Chan reaches for the lamp resting on the bedside table, and flicks it on.

In the middle of your bed is a plastic grocery bag, neatly folded into a square, and on top, a note with his name on it, printed neatly in your easily recognizable handwriting.

Chan reaches for it, his fingers trembling slightly.

Channie,

I know how hard this is on you, even if you won’t show it.

Sorry I stole this, but I think you’ll be glad I did.

P.S. You’re welcome to sleep in my bed while I’m gone if you want. Ask the omegas to cuddle pile you. That always makes me feel better. <3

He sets aside the note and carefully unfolds the bag, his familiar, worn, black Nirvana hoodie falling into his lap as he does so.

He chuckles fondly, because of course that’s what you had stolen, his fingers kneading the soft fabric affectionately, and then it hits him.

The smell.

He raises the hoodie slowly, disbelievingly, to his nose and takes a deep whiff.

Pine. Wisteria. The faint notes of the perfume you always wear.

His tired, overworked body suddenly feels like putty.

His wolf purrs.

“I thought I’d find you in here.”

Chan looks up at Changbin’s voice, the other alpha standing in the open doorway, and he suddenly feels weirdly guilty, like he’s doing something wrong, sitting in your room, on your bed, with his hoodie in his lap, drenched in your scent.

But there’s no judgment on Changbin’s face-just quiet, affectionate understanding-as he says, “I know it’s hard on you, you know. Not having us all together.”

Chan chuckles, a sort of self-deprecating, humorless sound, and glances down once more, watching the way his fingers disappear into the black fabric draped over his lap.

“What gave it away?” He asks dryly, glancing once more up at Changbin, who is watching him knowingly now. “The dark circles? Or the stench?”

It’s Changbin’s turn to chuckle now, coming to sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

“All of it?” He shrugs, glancing sidelong at the head alpha with a smirk, before he playfully bumps their shoulders together.

Chan appreciates the normalcy of it all. Changbin’s never made a big deal out of things, and it’s one of the many things he appreciates about the quiet, stalwart alpha sitting beside him.

“But it was mostly the return to the old pattern of holing up in the studio for two days and shutting everyone out that really sold it.”

Chan winces and rubs at the back of his neck, shooting the other alpha an apologetic sort of look.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Changbin shrugs. “All good. We know how you get. No one took it personally.” He grins. “Well, maybe Hyunjin, but he’s a little dramatic in the best of times.”

Chan laughs. “I’ll make it up to him.”

“I’m sure you will.” Changbin replies with a wink, sitting back on his hands on the bed, as he lets his gaze fall to the hoodie still cradled in Chan’s lap. “She leave you that?”

“I mean, it’s my hoodie.” Chan defends instantly, but he sighs and nods anyway. “But yeah.” He raises the fabric to his nose and takes another experimental whiff, the strong smell of your scent filling his nose and instantly relaxing his tired muscles. “It helps, I think.”

Now it’s Changbin’s turn to lean over and take an experimental whiff of Chan. “Yeah, you definitely smell less stressed.” He grins, crinkling his nose. “But also. You really need to shower.”

“I know okay?” Chan complains, biting back a smile, even as he huffs an irritated breath. “That’s where I was going before I got sidetracked, I swear.”

Chanbin pats his shoulder with a knowing smile, and stands from the bed, the mattress creaking from the sudden movement. He pauses in his trek back to the door to glance at Chan over his shoulder.

“Minho’s worried about you.” His brow furrows, and he offers the head alpha a sympathetic look. “You should really consider eating something before you go to bed. I know it’d make us all feel better.”

Chan sighs, and then finally nods, because now that he’s sat down for a moment, his stomach is starting to grumble with the telltale cramps of hunger pangs.

“Okay. Yeah. Tell him I’ll be down after I clean up.”

Changbin gives him a teasing salute before he leaves. “Yes, sir.”

Chan sighs, his body heavy with exhaustion now that he’s given himself a moment to relax, and forces himself up from your bed, hoodie clenched tightly in his hands.

His head spins slightly as he stands-whether from hunger or exhaustion or both-and he takes a moment to right himself before he heads off back down the hall toward the bathroom.

God, he really needs to take better care of himself.

*******

When Chan finally reemerges back downstairs-clean and feeling slightly less morose and disgusting than before, wrapped safely in the comfort of his nirvana hoodie and your scent-the pack is gathered around the kitchen table.

The younger members are chattering loudly amongst themselves as they play some sort of card game, Minho swatting their hands out of the way affectionately as he sets down a fresh plate of Hotteok in the middle of the table.

No one has noticed Chan’s quiet entrance yet, no one but Seungmin, who sidles up to him from his spot beside the refrigerator, leaning against the counter beside him in silence as they both observe the excited going ons of the pack.

Finally, the beta breeches the comfortable silence between the two of them, not looking at Chan as he asks casually, “Did you finish the song?”

It takes Chan’s sluggish thoughts a moment to catch up to the question. “What?”

“Your song.” Seungmin glances at him now, a slightly amused look in his eyes, as the corner of his lip pulls up into something akin to the start of an exasperated smile. “The one you were working on. You know? The reason we didn’t see you for two days?”

Chan feels as if he’s trying to force his thoughts through gelatin on their path to his mouth, but he finally manages to say, “Oh. Yeah. That song. No. I didn’t finish it. Still working on the bridge.”

Not his most articulate work, but it’ll do.

“Hmm.” Seungmin merely hums beneath his breath in acknowledgement, turning away from Chan once more to watch the ensuing battle at the table.

“Bullshit!”

Chan follows the beta’s gaze as Jisung’s voice rings out from the table, his offended glower and outraged fury directed across the table in Hyunjin’s direction, the said omega looking particularly smug.

“It’s entirely legal, Jisungie. Maybe you’re just shit at this game.”

“NO WAY IN HELL CAN YOU STACK A +2 ON A +4, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Take it up with someone who cares, asshole.”

“I will. This is unfair play on the field! Where’s my call?!”

Beside Chan, Seungmin sighs.

He glances to the head alpha with a look in his eyes that very clearly says help me, and pushes himself up off the counter.

“Unfortunately, that’s my cue.”

Chan watches as Seungmin crosses the several feet to the kitchen table-and the current fight-and leans over to look at the cards, before he promptly tosses one of Jeongin’s brightly colored socks into the middle of the table and announces blankly, “Unfair Play. Retract your card, Hyunjin.”

“Hah!” Jisung looks vindicated, crowing loudly in triumph, as Hyunjin rolls his eyes and reaches for the offending card, adding it back to his hand.

Duty done, Seungmin once again retreats back to his quiet spot beside Chan.

“Good call.”

Seungmin glances at him sidelong and offers him a sloped grin. “I like to think of myself as impartial, but sometimes, I just side with Jisung to fuck with Hyunjin.”

Chan chuckles and glances back to the resumed game.

“Also a good call.”

“Christopher.”

Chan glances up at the call of his name, and Minho appears beside them now, plate held in his hands. It takes a moment for Chan’s brain to register that he’s holding it out for him, watching him sternly and expectantly.

He takes the offered food from the other alpha and nods his thanks.

“Thanks, Min.”

Minho huffs.

“It would’ve tasted better if you were here to eat it hot, but warmed up will have to do.”

Chan bites back a smile as he lifts his chopsticks, and decides just to thank the other alpha once again, feigned annoyance and all.

“Thank you, Min.”

Minho grunts in affirmation beneath his breath and leans up against the counter beside them.

“God, it smells so much like noona over here that even I can smell it.”

Jisung appears now-having wandered away from the game-and wrinkles his nose in dramatic distaste as he takes a loud sniff of the air.

Chan holds out his arm-clad in the soft, thick fabric of the scent culprit-and let’s Jisung take a small whiff.

“I literally can’t even be in the same room with you right now.”

Seungmin jostles his elbow into the other beta’s ribs. “I’m gonna make you tell noona to her face when she gets back that you don’t like her scent.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung squawks, glaring at the other beta now. “It’s just that that hoodie is overpowering currently.”

“Han Jisung.” Minho says sharply, but he ruffles the beta’s hair affectionately in a direct contrast to his words. “That hoodie is the only way your hyung is going to sleep while (Y/N)’s gone, so let it go.”

“I like it.”

Jeongin pops up beneath Chan’s arm now, burying his nose into the fabric of the hoodie and Chan’s chest, and the head alpha chuckles under his breath as the youngest omega nuzzles against him.

“Me too, Innie.” He tousles the boy’s hair, giving him an affectionate smile.

“Do you want to sleep in our room tonight, hyung?” Felix asks, watching Jeongin cuddle against the head alpha with a soft, fond smile.

“Is no one playing the game anymore?” Minho asks with exasperation, as Hyunjin appears at his side, looping his arm around the older alpha’s waist.

“No. Also.” He looks pointedly at Chan now, who is leaning his cheek against Jeongin’s hair, obviously getting sleepier by the moment. “I think an omega cuddle pile is exactly what you need, hyung. Felix is right.”

Chan feels so relaxed like this-surrounded by the smell of you, and the warmth of his hoodie, and the safety and comfort of his packmates-and his eyes are growing heavier by the second, his body melting into Jeongin’s hold.

Who is he to resist the offer of an omega sleepover?

“Okay. Yeah.” He nods, barely able to keep his eyes open, as Minho takes his empty plate and Changbin shepherds everyone toward the hall.

“C’mon. We can clean up in the morning. Let’s go to bed.”

As they all file down the long hallway, Jeongin’s arms still around his waist, Felix at their side, Chan glances over his shoulder to Hyunjin and asks sleepily, “Did (Y/N) put you all up to this?”

Hyunjin looks dramatically offended. “What? No.” He considers for a moment, tilting his head, and then grins at the head alpha with a shrug. “Okay. Maybe. She just said you have a hard time when the pack isn’t all together, and to make sure you take care of yourself.”

Chan’s beginning to sense a pattern, but he’s too tired to fight it right now.

He lets the omegas tug him into their room and push him down on the bed.

Jeongin immediately curls up against his side, face buried in his chest, and Chan lets himself nose sleepily at the youngest omega’s hair.

The smell of cinnamon warms his nose.

Hyunjin waits until Felix has snuggled up against Chan’s other side, arm looped over his waist, nose in the skin of his throat, and then he glances between the trio.

“Ready?”

Felix nods and hums sleepily beneath his breath, “Ready.”

Hyunjin turns out the lamp and the room falls into darkness.

The bed creaks as Hyunjin crawls over to join them, Chan feels him settle down on the opposite side of Felix, the warmth of his hand finding Chan’s in the darkness, and then Jeongin’s soft voice asks drowsily, “Hyung, do you want to call noona in the morning?”

Chan finds himself nodding, his nose brushing the soft locks of Jeongin’s hair.

“Sure, Innie.”

The youngest sighs and cuddles up to him once more.

“Okay, good.”

Hyunjin squeezes his fingers.

“We’re glad you’re home, hyung.”

Chan can feel his eyes drifting closed-the cocktail of the omegas’ scents and their warmth-already lulling him to give into his exhaustion.

“Me too, Jinnie. Me too.”

*******

“You sound better today, Channie.”

Chan glances at the phone in surprise, your words echoing over the speaker, catching him off guard.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” You state again, and Chan can almost see you nodding thoughtfully, even though you’re thousands of miles away. “Brighter. More yourself. I’m glad.”

Chan ruffles Jeongin’s bedhead, and Felix rests his chin on the alpha’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly, affectionately.

“Yeah, I guess so. I feel better.”

“I’m glad.” Your tone is warm, genuine, and Chan feels nothing but loved.

“Noona.”

Hyunjin appears, sticking his head in from the adjoining bathroom, his voice raised so you can hear him from across the room, through the phone.

“Yeah, Jinnie.”

“Weigh in on something.”

Felix groans, and Jeongin snickers, and Chan has no idea what’s about to happen.

“...okay?”

Hyunjin comes into the room now, tube of moisturizer still held in his hand, even as he takes up the phone and begins to pace back and forth purposefully.

“Would you say that stacking a +2 on a +4 is allowed?” Chan gets it now, and he rolls his eyes as well, even as Felix burrows down beneath the covers, his nose peeking out, watching the Luna, as if worried another fight is about to break out.

Luckily, it’s still early enough that Jisung is nowhere to be seen.

“I mean, I guess it depends on what game we’re talking about here?”

Hyunjin stares dead ahead at the wall, as if contemplating murder, and then drops the phone back onto the bed without a second glance.

“You’re dead to me.”

You laugh, and the sound makes Chan’s insides all fuzzy with fondness even through the censorship of the phone speaker.

“Wait, wait, Jinnie-listen-”

It’s all gonna be okay.

They’re gonna be okay.

He’s gonna be okay.

And you’ll all be back together again before he knows it, Nirvana hoodie and all.

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

💗 Taglist: @hosh1kwon @carolinexkpop @blithevix @sunabokuto @wildflower-at-heart @faericals @5sos-wdw @hyuneyeon @studyingthemind @illicee @maddmartian @binnie--baby @xwinchesterprincessx @ley-lani59 @lady---boner @rosegaming117 @meivida @sai-kida134 @cutecucumberkimberly @aroseharder @spideyweirdo @coureurs-de-bois9 @unfiltered-starlight @sixswaggy @shimmeringmoons22 @thatgirlangelb @beautifulcolorgarden @runningthroughlifestay @dearalice @patat-boi @stay-berry @laylasbunbunny @misxing-you @sawadabegum @changbinsrightboob @maliamaiden @sunnibearr @bkirsted @jamlou512 @latinxmochi @goquokka @leeknowsw0rldd @yoongihan @simeonswhore @rubberduckieyourtheone @chanlovesme @janvibutbetter @starlostjimin @vampcharxter @dadonbabysworld @cursed-mars-bars @lexiluness @nanaberry6 @yoongisleftearring

910 notes · View notes

chaotic-orphan · 1 year

Note

Hii! So I was wondering if you can do this Sick and Delirious Villain x Hero Story! If you do, there can be a part two. You don’t have to tho but this is what it’s about if you decide to do it. If you don’t wanna read all of it, there is a shortened version of both parts at the very bottom. (But you kind of have to read Villains past to understand)

TW: Panic attacks, SA, Vomit/Throwing up

Villain backstory: Villain had a terrible family. Their parents were neglectful and their brother was absolutely horrible. He would SA, torture (you can decide), and make Villain throw up. Sticking their fingers down their throat and then pulling out just in time to punching their stomach so hard and so many times that they throw up. And Villains parents stood there and did nothing. When Villain was able to leave, they were messed up in the head by the things their family did.

Part 1: Villain and Hero and secretly dating and Hero still doesn’t know how Villains past, and they never pushed. Villain was sick, a fever of 103 and delirious (preferably Hypoactive Delirium), and Hero was at work. Villain woke up from bed feeling really bad and ran to the bathroom to throw up. Seeing their past with throw up, they didn’t want to do it anymore and started crying and hyperventilating. Hero got home five minutes after and was on the phone with Superhero. They heard the villain throwing up and crying so they told Superhero they needed to go. Hero forgot to end the call and shoved the phone in their pocket.

Hero walked into the bathroom and saw a vulnerable, sick, mid panic attack, Villain. Hero tried to comfort them but the were so scared and acted like they didn’t even see Hero. Villain being delirious accidentally told Hero everything that happened in their childhood through sobs and vomiting.

After hearing that, Hero tries to coax Villain back to bed but they felt like they couldn’t move, so Hero carried them. Hero ended up calming Villain down and putting them to sleep.

All while Superhero was still on the phone, realizing Hero and Villains relationship.

Part 2: After last night, Hero decided to take the day off to take care of Villain. Villain was asleep but Hero was up and they got a phone call from Superhero, telling them that they have to come into work today because they are short staffed. Hero tried to protest but Superhero wasn’t hearing any of it. Villain eventually woke up while Hero was trying to sneak out Villain started whining and crying that they need Hero with them but Hero left, but not before putting Villain back to sleep.

While Hero was working, Superhero broke into their apartment while Villain was awake. Villain, being delirious enough as it is, thought it was Hero coming home from work but soon realized that it was Superhero, but it was too late. They were on the floor because Superhero sedated them to drag them out the house. But hero walks in on it.

Short story of it: Part one: Villain and Hero are dating and Villain is sick and delirious and has to throw up, causing a panic attack. Hero walks in on it while on the phone with Superhero and forgets to hang up before helping them. They put Villain back to bed and the next day they decide to stay home.

Part two: Superhero said they have to go in today so Hero does. Superhero brakes into their apartment and give Villain a sedative so they can take them back to their base, but hero walks in on it.

Delirious Villain x Hero, part One:

Anon, talk about putting in the work! This isn’t a prompt but itself a fully plotted out story that you should be proud of thinking of, I would never have imagined this no matter how hard I tried! It is such a fun concept to explore, and I basically have it roadmapped for me— so seriously, thank you for this prompt, it is my honour to put my spin on it <3

I hope you enjoy~ and very sorry for the hUUUUGE delay but part 2 + 3 will come, I will continue this, it was very hard to get the emotion right, so sorry for the delay again I just wanted it to pack the right punch

CW: vomit (described in disgusting detail, it made me a bit queasy ngl), general sickness, fever, hallucinations, distraught whumpee, villain whumpee, past abuse implied, past abuse described, PTSD, panic attacks, hyperventilating, anxiety, past fear, fear of being sick, past trauma, traumatic sickness, forced caretaking, Whumpee doesn’t want caretaking, hero caretaking, hero caretaker, hero x villain, weird listening superhero, being spied on, worried Hero, worried caretaker, familial abuse, abuse of power, vulnerable whumpee, past whump implied, past whump, invasive whumper, invasive Whump (making whumpee vomit physically)

*~*~*~*~*

Hero was checking their phone every five seconds. Villain was currently at home, burning up, after having barely slept last night. Everytime Hero tried to bring them a cool cloth, or ibuprofen or paracetamol, Villain batted their help away, saying with their usual reassuring smile it’s just a cold. I’ll get over it. It’s just a 24 hour bug, I’ll be fine in the morning.

The metro doors opened and the announcer chimed that they were below Hero Tower HQ, South. Hero put their phone away, worrying their bottom lip as they stepped out onto the platform and walked with the crowd up the steps. The bustling streets of Central buzzed around Hero as they ascended to the busy streets of the city.

Hero pressed the button for the traffic light, waiting for the green man to turn on. Hero pulled their phone out of their pocket again.

Still no messages from Villain.

Maybe Hero shouldn’t be here. Maybe they should call in sick and go home and look after Villain. Villain hated being sick, and not in the way that most people did. It was more than just an inconvenience that it would have been to Hero or anyone else. It was an absolute denial and fear, because Villain didn’t want to get sick so they never got sick. It was out of sheer force of will, that in all the four years Hero had known Villain and the last few months they had lived together, last night was the first time Hero had even known Villain could get sick.

The traffic lights changed to red, and the green man for walking turned on and Hero walked across the road, debating whether or not to go home and be with Villain.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Villain had said, their nose stuffy. “You have to work. You like working.”

“Yeah but I like you more,” said Hero. Villain smiled, put a hand on Hero’s knee and squeezed. “Vil—“

“You’re going. End of story. I’ll just be at home making soup and watching Judge Judy or something, I’ll be fine.”

“Why won’t you let me look after you?”

“You can look after me, after work, okay?”

“Vil—“

“Why are you arguing with a sick person?” Villain asked with a lacklustre grin. “Tell you what, if I get bad tomorrow and I need you, I’ll text you, okay Mom?”

Hero rolled their eyes when Villain leaned over and kissed their forehead, as if that was the end of the conversation and Villain wanted Hero to drop it. So Hero did.

And now they felt terrible. They should really go home. Hero turned to cross the pedestrian crossing again when they saw Superhero on the opposite side, grinning at them. Superhero raised a hand in a wave and said: “Hero! Glad to see I’m not the only one running late today.”

Well they were fucked. Now they had to go into work. Maybe they could fake an illness later and get away early. Superhero was beside them then and Hero naturally fell into step with them, turning to walk towards the Hero Tower that rose higher than the buildings surrounding it.

“That villain on twelfth by the docks, Patrelli got a lead in the case so we got a debrief on that this morning,” said Superhero in his thick Italian-American accent. “Plus the mayor has summoned us to City Hall for god knows what—“

“Probably giving out that he’s forced to pay a parking fine,” Hero grumbled, their eyes still glued to their phone as Superhero laughed. A booming, happy sound. Superhero opened the door for Hero and followed through to the foyer after.

“Probably,” Superhero agreed. The pair were stopped at the reception by Conny who held up a pen and a card. “It’s for Creta,” said Conny and Superhero nodded, taking the pen and signing his name.

“She still in the hospital?” Superhero asked, concerned, handing Hero the pen absently. Hero took it and signed their name beside Superhero’s. Then handed the pen back to a sad looking Conny.

“Yeah. She is furious. She hates being useless.”

Superhero nodded sympathetically, saying: “well tell her from me that she wasn’t useless when we put that maniac behind bars.”

“I’ll tell her,” said Conny. “It will mean a lot to her.”

They said their goodbyes and walked to the lift. When they got in, Hero took their phone out again after the doors slid closed.

Then the lift stopped. Hero looked up to see Superhero’s finger on the stop button, and raised an eyebrow in question.

Superhero nodded at the phone in Hero’s hand and said: “what’s wrong?”

Hero straightened on instinct, putting the phone down at their side. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why’re you checking your phone every five seconds?” Superhero asked, arms folded over a broad chest, moulded from years of gruelling training.

Hero thought about lying and playing it off, but they thought of Villain at home alone, sick and they had to tell the truth. Superhero already suspected something was wrong anyways.

“My partner,” Hero sighed, rocking back on their heels and slumping against the metal wall of the lift. “They’re sick at home right now, and they hate being sick and they wouldn’t tell me how bad they were yesterday but I know they had a fever last night and—“

“Okay, Hero,” said Superhero gently. “It’s okay.”

“They never get sick though, and they’re so stubborn that they refuse to accept any help. Last night they wouldn’t even take any painkillers and—“

Superhero put a hand on Hero’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay, Hero,” Superhero said again. “It’s only natural to be concerned about the ones we love, especially in our line of work where we can’t exactly turn the hero thing off.”

Hero laughed weakly at that, mumbling a breathy “yeah.”

“And some people are also just bad patients,” Superhero continued. “Some people don’t want others to see them sick because they’re vulnerable and weak—“

“But I don’t think that,” said Hero.

Superhero nodded with that same gentle smile and said: “but your partner probably does. It must be hard for them to know you’re a strong Hero saving people everyday, they don’t want you to feel you have to save them.”

“But I want to help,” Hero pouted and Superhero nodded again.

“I know. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go upstairs and attend the debrief from the docks and after you can go home and look after your partner.”

Hero’s eyes lit up at that, “really?”

Superhero nodded with a slight laugh and dropped their hand from Hero’s shoulder, turning to press the start button on the lift again. “Yeah really. You never take time off, I’ll tell the boss you weren’t feeling great.”

“You’re a good friend, Superhero,” said Hero softly. Superhero shot a grin back over his shoulder, “yeah you’re not too bad yourself.”

*~*~*~*~*

Villain woke from their fitful sleep in a panic, peeling themselves from the sticky sheets beneath them, their body slick with sweat acting like an adhesive with the bed. The movement was too sudden, too much, Villain’s entire world spinning as their knees hit the ground beside the bed.

That horrible, familiar warm feeling crawling up their throat and threatening to burst, but Villain didn’t… they didn’t want to. They didn’t want to.

“I don’t want it,” they said their speech slurred and far away as they swallowed and shook their head, trying to swallow to stop the inevitable. “I don’t want it. Idonwanto please… please don’t…”

A sudden rush from their swirling stomach climbing hot up Villain’s throat and despite themselves they pushed up off their knees and into the bathroom. Bare feet padding against the tile. Villain grabbed the lid of the toilet and yanked it up, along with the seat and grabbed the edges of the bowl, the cool porcelain barely offering any comfort. They were still too hot. Too warm. Burning from the inside out.

“No… no… no… please don’t…I’m sorry for eating, I said I was sorry…. Please…” Villain sobbed to the empty room, snot running readily down their lips and dripping from their chin into the toilet bowl.

A hand settled heavy on Villain’s shoulder, burning them with the touch. “If you don’t throw up in the next five seconds you’ll be sorry, Vil.”

“No,” Villain wail, then gagged on their own tears and saliva and shoved it down their throat again. “Please… I’ll be good. I don’t want… I donwantople—“

Another hot hand on the back of Villain’s neck and their head was slammed over the toilet bowl, pinning them against the bowl and with the force of it, Villain couldn’t fight the feeling that crawled warm and thick up their throat and despite every fibre of their being fighting against it Villain vomited violently into the bowl.

Villain threw themselves back with a sob, their back hitting the porcelain wall of the tub, legs bent beneath them on the cool tile as Villain wiped their mouth with the back of their arm, panicked sobs wracking through their body.

“You have to do it again, Villain.”

“I can’t please—“ Villain begged, pleading with air.

“You can and you will. Look at you. You’re pathetic. Crying and covered in your own snot and sweat.”

“Please brother, please,” Villain croaked. “Please I don’t—“

“You don’t want to?!” Brother snarled, and Villain shrunk back on themselves. Shivering on the floor and hugging their arms around themselves. “Were you going to tell No, Villain?”

“I—“ Villain began then they were on their knees, hugging the toilet as another wave of vomit slid vicious up their throat. They coughed and spluttered and still it came. All the while Brother stood beside them, phantom hand in Villain’s hair, screaming: “I decide what you do and do not want, Villain. You think you can look after yourself? You’re so weak you can’t even fight me off. Can’t even think about trying to fight me. So weak you can’t even tell your beloved Hero about any of this.”

“Leave… them… alone,” Villain said, then hurled for the third time into the bowl, hacking and gasping. Villain sucked in a breath through their clogged up mouth, because their nose was filled with still streaming snot. They were disgusting. They looked disgusting. They should be able to fight this, but no. Brother is right. Brother’s always right.

A phantom hand began petting Villain’s sweat slicked hair and it made them want to gag again. “It’s so cute how you defend your little Hero. You used to do that with Mom and Dad too, do you remember? They still abandoned you after you did that. Just like Hero will.”

“No,” Villain sobbed, their voice a strangled cry as a fresh wave of tears started rolling down their cheeks. “Hero love me.”

“Parents are supposed to love you too, Vil. You’re just… unlovable. Don’t worry, though, when I find you again I’ll love you how you should be loved. We can pick up where we left off… would you like that?”

“NO!” Villain screamed, throwing a weak arm behind them and wacking it off the radiator instead of Brother. “GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain descended into another coughing fit “—ALONE! Leave! LEAVE! You’re not REAL!”

Villain started coughing again, their chest rising and falling heavy from the effort of screaming and they moaned into the bowl of the toilet seat as they felt another gurgling in their stomach and knew they would be vomiting again in a minute.

They were miserable, and feeling sorry for themselves and all they wanted was to be healthy. They didn’t want to dredge that dark hole of their childhood up again. Didn’t want to hear Brother’s voice so clear… warmth creeped up their throat and this time Villain didn’t fight it.

*~*~*~*~*

Hero unlocked the door to the apartment finally. Their phone was between their shoulder and their ear, grocery bags hanging out of them filled with chicken and vegetables, chicken soups and more painkillers. Hero threw in a couple of those gel ice packs too just to make sure Villain would cool down and feel more comfortable.

“No, Superhero, they’ll be fine. You don’t need to come over…”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re sick and they don’t even want me seeing them like this,” said Hero, dropping their bags and their keys on the kitchen counters. “Thank you for the sentiment really— I’ll just need a few days.”

“Of course, Hero—“ Hero blanked the rest of whatever Superhero said as they heard Villain screaming from the bathroom then coughing up a lung.

“GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME—“ Villain cried, descending into a fit of coughs and Hero ran to the bathroom, giving Superhero a hasty goodbye and dropping to their knees beside Villain who was draped over the toilet bowl, vomit crawling thick up their spine like an alien followed by the unpleasant sound in the toilet.

“Villain! Villain! I’m here—“

“Alone! Leave! LEAVE! YOU’RE NOT REAL!” Villain cried, shaking their head and hugging the toilet bowl tighter.

“Vil…” Hero said softly, but they didn’t put a hand on them. Instead they ran back to the kitchen filling a glass with water and took the half melted gel ice packs from the bag and ran back into Villain. They grabbed a towel from the wall and draped it over Villain’s shoulders gently.

Villain flinched at the contact, jerking back violently and swinging a hand out aimed at Hero. Hero dodged it and sank to their knees beside Villain, gently pushing the ice pack to Villain’s forehead. Villain let out an audible sigh and let their weight fall into Hero’s hand.

“Vil… it’s me. It’s Hero. I got off work.”

“He… Hero…” Villain croaked and then broke down into a fit of sobs. Hero didn’t know what to do. So they just gently pushed them away from the toilet seat, let their back lean against the back of the bath and sat across from them, keeping the ice pack on Villain’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Vil,” said Hero. “You should’ve called me!”

“Didn’t…” Villain said, out of breath and exhausted. “Didn’t wanna.”

“Why?” Hero implored, voice bordering on desperate. Villain put a clammy hand over Hero’s on their forehead and opened their eyes, looking at Hero.

“Didn’t want you to see h-him,” said Villain with an effort. “To see me like this.”

As if on cue Villain jerked forward and hugged the toilet bowl as another round of vomit wracked Villain’s body. Hero put a hand on their back and rubbed soft circles in their back as Villain groaned and spit. Then they started shaking over the bowl, and Hero whispered soothing sweet nothings to them.

Villain shook their head, sniffing. “You don’t know.. you don’t know,” Villain wailed.

“Don’t know what, Vil?”

Villain cried harder at the question, shaking their head.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t want to vomit again please brother, please—“ Villain mewled, sobbing and shaking their head. Before Hero could say anything Villain gagged and another wave of vomit tore through them, shuddering and sobs followed the particularly violent attack.

“Just hit me,” Villain whispered, coughing into the bowl and spitting out phlegm. “Just beat me today, please. Just hit me. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good, Brother, please.”

Hero was sitting on their calves, rubbing soothing circles on Villain’s back and stunned into silence. Hero didn’t know who Brother was. They had never heard that name before from Villain, but whatever they did to Villain clearly traumatised them.

Shocked tears refused to fall from Hero’s eyes, but Villain wasn’t the only one feeling sick as Villain continued to babble and plead between bouts of vomiting. It must have been an hour or two they spent on the bathroom floor, Villain begging with ghosts to stop hurting them, to stop making them throw up. Forcing them to vomit.

It became so heart wrenchingly clear why Villain didn’t like being sick, and didn’t want Hero to be there when they were.

Hero was glad they were there. Helping Villain, being there for Villain trying to comfort them in whatever way they could.

After what felt like years Villain sat back against the bath, smacking their tongue against their dry mouth. They found Hero’s eyes and they tried for a smile, a bit more clarity and recognition in their gaze.

“I… I think it’s finished now,” said Villain and Hero nodded, still frozen in place, but they forced their limbs to move forward. “Hero…”

“Let’s get you to the bedroom, Vil, then we can talk,” said Hero. Villain didn’t fight them, they didn’t have the energy. Hero put an arm behind Villain’s shoulder, gently placing Villain’s heavy arm around Hero’s neck, then under their knees. Villain let out a groan as Hero hoisted them up. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” said Villain. Hero didn’t know if that was a yes or no but it was okay.

Villain was dead weight in Hero’s arms, not even having the energy to hold themselves and lighten the burden they were putting on poor Hero. They shouldn’t be sick and they hated themselves for feeling like this, but having Hero see them like this.

They would never forgive themselves.

Hero drew the bedsheets back and lay Villain down on the mattress and pillow. “I’m going to get the ice packs, are you okay?”

Fresh tears were streaming down Villain’s face at the embarrassment… but they croaked out a hoarse: “yeah.”

Hero nodded, going back to the bathroom and picking up the stray ice packs before returning to Villain’s side. When they got back Villain was already asleep. Hero let out a soft sigh, worrying their bottom lip as they watched Villain’s chest rise and fall peacefully.

The ice packs were still cold in Hero’s hands but they were dripping, and they didn’t want to put them on Villain and risk waking them up. So they put them back in the freezer and walked back to the bathroom to clean it up.

They flushed the toilet and opened the window to let out the smell, gathered the damp towels from the ground and put them in the laundry hamper. They cleaned the toilet, and mopped the sweat up from the floor with a towel. They’d actually mop later. They didn’t really want to be away from Villain right now.

Before Hero left the bathroom they saw their phone on the ground and picked it up pocketing it.

They thought they had ended the call with Superhero so there was no need to check the phone.

No need to check the call logs and see that in their panic over Villain’s screaming, they didn’t actually end the call when they thought they did.

If Hero did check their call logs they’d have realised that Superhero didn’t end the call either. A two minute call turned into a forty-five minute call, Superhero too shocked to drop the phone from their ear when they heard Villain’s voice.

Villain.

Their enemy.

The person Hero was so worried about being sick, that they rushed home and left work early for. When Hero never left work early.

It all suddenly made terrible, awful sense to Superhero why they had never met Hero’s partner. Always an excuse made to stop them from meeting.

The betrayal stung in Superhero’s chest and when they finally ended the call, they nearly crushed their phone in their hand with how tight they were holding it.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here.

155 notes · View notes

deepdarkdelights · 2 years

Text

Milliseconds (2) | 10 Series Drabbles

Fic Type: Drabble

Word Count: ~3k

Series: 10 Seconds

Takes place almost directly after the end of the series (part 5).

Summary: The MC has a sudden snap to clarity after hearing about the miraculous escape of another woman who was in a similar position as herself.

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Kidnapping, Stalking, Anxiety Symptoms, Fear, Mentions of Drugging, Jungkook has baby fever, MC rationalizing toxic and harmful behavior

A/N: Hello! So the votes spoke very loud and clear that you all wanted a 10 Series Drabble! I have been thinking about writing a scenario like this one and I am pretty happy with it so I hope that you guys are too. I believe an anon did give me this idea (updated credit below 12/8) The Jin fic is taking me such a long time and I really wanted to post something as a treat for all of you before finals week - I hope this delivers on that! I love you all and I can’t wait to see your reactions in the comments and my inbox 💜💜💜

Prompt Credit: @mochi13

Drabble (1)

It felt like you had been living in a dream state for the longest time now.

Every thought, every memory was cloudy with a dreamy haze and tinted in shades of rose. The best way to explain it was that you were operating almost entirely on autopilot, especially when Jungkook wasn’t home.

But even in those moments when you were together, you never felt total clarity. Your relationship felt like a dream as well - the stuff of cheap romance novels and teen movies. The very thing that women, and some men alike, craved and dreamt of. No one’s life was meant to be this perfect and that should have been a clue. But the red flags that once waved proudly in front of your face were steeped in shades of gray - you had gone colorblind to his faults.

And honestly, you could understand how that happened. Ever since the two of you had returned to the city and you had slowly introduced your family back into your life a sense of normalcy had unknowingly descended upon your fragile mind. Those unbearable months of isolation in the woods have become lost, buried in the trenches of your mind. And the way he acted now, how he held you, cherished you, loved you, it was easy to become blinded.

You had succumbed to your worst fear and you didn’t even know it.

Even now you melted into his touch. His strong hands settled on your waist as he pulled you back into his chest, his chin coming down to rest upon the slope of your shoulder - notching together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

“Good morning, baby,” He whispered, his voice low and laden with sleep as he nuzzled further into your skin.

“Morning,” You mumbled back with a wisp of a smile on your lips, your hands busy with finishing up breakfast.

Jungkook never asked you to do that for him, in fact, oftentimes he was the one offering to care for you. But months of training from his mother had adhered stronger than you had anticipated. You rose earlier than you used to, your body doing the work for you without your input. It was hard to say if you derived joy from the task, but you knew joy when his pleased smile would spark warmth in your chest.

Jungkook was far too hesitant to admit he did enjoy it when you did these things, domestic things. He didn’t want to make you think he needed a mother - after all he wanted you, a wife. If he wanted a caretaker he would have stayed with his mother. But god, did he fantasize about you being the mother of his children. He dreamt of those sleepless nights with a newborn baby, the first day of kindergarten, and a home filled with laughter and the quintessential pitter-patter of tiny feet. But he knew he had to wait. After all, you had brought it up first, you were not ready.

He delivered a firm squeeze to your hip, his nose brushing at the column of your throat as he let out a pleased hum.

“Down boy,” You giggled, halfheartedly slapping his hands away, “You have work, do you really want to piss Yoongi off by being late again?”

“He’ll be late anyways, you know he doesn’t get much sleep anymore.” He whined before acquiescing and backing off, leaning back against the island counter.

The subtle hints again. Jungkook came home every day from work gushing about Yoongi’s baby. About how she was already saying words despite you knowing she was definitely just babbling and not comprehending whether she was saying meaningful words or not. He was absolutely enamored by his goddaughter.

“She has the cutest little shoes,” and “She sat on Yoongi’s lap during the meeting and drooled all over his documents,” and “I got to hold her for an entire hour and she didn’t cry once, I must be a natural.”

While it was true that Jungkook was a natural at almost anything he tried, you still weren’t giving in to the bait. But when you tried to think about why you didn’t want a child your mind wandered elsewhere and you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. There was some block, some important answer hidden right around the corner but every time you tried to reach out to it, it darted away and stayed just out of reach.

“The quicker you get going the sooner you’ll be home,” You reminded him as you turned the burners on the stove off.

“I could just take the day off again,” He said with a pout.

“No, you just took a week off. You’re the CFO Jungkook you know better,” You chided him.

Jungkook had just taken the week off, declaring the two of you were having a staycation. Said staycation had really just been the two of you redecorating your shared living space, binging dramas, and fucking like rabbits - which had not been your idea but you hadn’t exactly been against it. In fact, you were laid against a few things that week.

You probably should have made the assumption that he had baby fever sooner.

But if you needed anything it was for him to go to work, you needed the break, all of you needed the break. Some parts of you more than others.

“Fine,” He groaned, “But I deserve a reward.”

“Really and what kind of reward are you thinking of?”

“You.”

“Mhm?”

“On my face.”

“...Get out of my house Jeon Jungkook!”

“I didn’t hear a no!” He impishly called over his shoulder as he headed for your bedroom, retrieving and dressing in the clothes you had laid out for him the night before.

You buried your face in your hands as your skin heated up with shame and another feeling you refused to recognize. Jeon Jungkook was going to be the death of you if he didn’t leave that very minute.

Luckily for you, the rest of your shared morning went by without further incident. The sanctity of your kitchen was unsullied by his frankly ravenous sex drive that certainly had come out of the blue.

Unlike last week.

“Baby, where’s my kiss goodbye?” He called from the door after slipping on his shoes.

And like the good wife that you were, you met him at the door, smoothed down the collar of his shirt and the front of his jacket, and popped up onto your toes to give him a kiss. Jungkook has many traits, but his most prominent one was that he never did anything halfway. But even with this knowledge you were still startled by the touch of his fingers to your jaw and the way he tilted your head, deepening the kiss in a way that was far too much this early in the morning.

And then he gave you that smirk of his, that mischievous smile with a quirk of one of his dark eyebrows after leaving you absolutely breathless.

“I love you, I’ll be thinking of you all day. And, don’t forget about my reward,” He said with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows before you were shoving him out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

By all means, your morning had gone normally, just the way it had for the past few weeks since you had officially moved into the apartment as Jungkook’s wife. You had no inkling or hint of an idea that today would be any different.

But it was the little things that you hadn’t even thought of that pushed you over the edge.

Your throat had been a little sore that morning so you decided that you wanted some tea to soothe the ache. So you decided to put the kettle on and in the meantime, you put the TV on for background noise to fill the silence of a too-big apartment without Jungkook.

You had no way of knowing that a major news story had broken that same morning.

“After she went missing ten years ago, Cho Minji has finally been found,” The reporter’s voice echoed out from the flat screen.

“While the story is still progressing we have learned of what happened in her ten years of captivity. Miss Cho had been stalked by an ex-boyfriend for four years after they had broken up and in those four years, he had made extensive plans as to how he was going to hold Miss Cho captive for the rest of their lives.

Deranged notes expressing his undying love for her were recovered from the home alongside pictures and videos that he collected during their relationship and during Miss Cho’s captivity. Miss Cho claimed that she was held against her will while her captor vehemently disagreed claiming that she came willingly. Evidence suggests that Miss Cho was indeed kidnapped from her childhood home and drugged repeatedly over the duration of her captivity to keep her sedated and agreeable. During this time she planned to gain her captor’s trust and in a ten-year plan, she finally succeeded and escaped - flagging down a passing car and making her way to the authorities. More on this incredible story will come as the case continues to unfold.”

A horrible, nauseating feeling was churning deep in your gut, one that had you leaning against the back of the couch for support. But the final push was the kettle, a sharp whistle from the kitchen striking you harder than any hit you had ever taken. In seconds you were transported back to that night and in a moment the rose-tinted glass was shattered.

This wasn’t you. You weren’t some housewife, you and Jungkook weren’t really married, and you weren’t in love. You had fallen for his trap. You and Cho Minji were one and the same, the only difference was that she had much more mental fortitude than you did. She was successful.

Your body was back to moving on its own, but this time you were running on adrenaline as your brain took the back seat. You were tearing the place apart, grabbing clothes and cash and whatever you could grab and stuffing it all into the first bag you could get your hands on.

“Hurry, faster, you need to run as far as you can before Jungkook get’s back. Oh god, what would he do if he found you?” Your brain was practically screaming at you, a whirlwind of anxiety and fear sweeping you up as you stumbled out of the door alone for the first time since you had been taken by Jungkook.

You had no plan as to where you were going to go, only the thought that you needed to flee and you needed to do it now or you would never see another opportunity like this one arise. It was now or never.

You felt like you were doing something wrong, something that was forbidden or perverted as you rushed through the busy city sidewalks. It was a horrible cocktail of emotions, to be so frightened and confused at the same time. You had become accustomed to life with Jungkook, leaving felt wrong and right at the same time.

But the more you pushed on the more you realized you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t go to your parent's house, that would be the first place that he would check. And your friends, well you didn’t really have friends anymore and even if you did you wouldn’t want to put them in harm's way either. You knew what Jungkook was capable of, hell you had witnessed it firsthand.

But it was also so unbelievable that hands that could squeeze someone’s life out of them could be so kind, gentle, and caring towards you. This clarity you had been thrust into was so confusing and startling that you felt like a crazed person wandering the streets.

You were at a loss as to what to do, especially as the adrenaline began to slowly wear off, your body crashing from the sudden influx of hormones.

At the end of the day, you really had nowhere to go, nowhere to go but to him.

You weren’t sure how far you had made it from the apartment, your feet leading you to a park bench which you collapsed against, dropping your bag to the concrete pathway.

What was wrong with you? Why weren’t you running for the hills? What the fuck were you doing?

You sat there, dazed and utterly confused as you anxiously bounced your knee. There were so many thoughts rushing through your head that you were struggling to focus on the task at hand. You needed to make a plan, you needed to figure out what your next move was. The longer you stayed there contemplating the more time you lost to escape.

Jungkook was very quiet about his friends and his life outside of you, but he had dropped hints before that his “friends” weren’t the greatest people. Of course you had met Taehyung and Jimin and they had no problem revealing their twisted nature to you. And you had met Yoongi on several occasions enough to know that he was just as obsessive as Jungkook was. But there were others, other that both Yoongi and Jungkook were reluctant to talk about, their eyes always shifting to you when the topic would come up - a promise that they would talk later when you weren’t present.

Even if you decided to leave now, hopped on the nearest bus and rode it to the end of its route, you had no doubt that they would come for you. Taehyung and Jimin would be there without question and you very clearly remembered Jimin’s gleeful threats to you months ago. But the others, the ones that were far more dangerous would certainly join as well and that was a thought that shook you to your very core.

Your panicked thoughts only became worse as time stretched on, your brain reminding you when Jungkook leaves work and how much time you had left to either leave or go back before he found out you were gone.

You couldn’t believe you would even think about going back but you were. Jungkook had been good to you hadn’t he? He let you have a relationship with your family again, he had pulled the two of you out of the isolation of the woods, you didn’t have to see his family anymore, and he showered you with unrestricted affection and praise. He loved you didn’t he? He said it every day and never let you forget it. He wasn’t a good person but he wasn’t a bad person either - he too was irrevocably changed and damaged by his horrible family, you couldn’t blame him for that you don’t get to choose what family you’re born into.

You were wrenched out of your spiraling thoughts but the sudden vibration of your phone. Despite your fear you checked the caller ID anyways and your stomach lurched as his name lit up the screen: Jungkook.

He had gotten off of work early.

You watched in fright as the call went to voicemail before he tried again, and again, and again, and again. The calls never stopped, one after the other they rolled in like a stubborn storm.

You were really screwed now, he was home and he knew that you were gone. The frantic mess you had left behind had to have told him enough - that you had grabbed what you could and fled. So now you had to make a choice - run with nowhere to go, or return back to the eyes of the hurricane. You knew what Jungkook was like when he was angry - it was a deadly type of calm that was a precursor to unbridled rage.

Your hands shook as you tapped your voicemail, whatever was there would help you make your decision.

There was static for a moment, and then his voice.

“Baby? Where are you? Call me back right away, okay?” He was surprisingly calm but there was a touch of fear to his words.

“This isn’t funny, please just answer your phone, I need to know that you’re safe or I’m going to go crazy, please just call me.”

Each message became more and more desperate until you got to the most recent one. This one was by far the worst. You could hear him crying and struggling to breathe and even dry heaving like he was so distraught he was going to empty his stomach.

“Please tell me where you are, please baby I’m begging you, I can’t live without you I need you,” He was sobbing hysterically into the phone, “Please come home, please don’t leave me here alone,”

In your time with Jungkook you had come to learn something about yourself, you couldn’t stand to hear or see him cry. It broke you down in a way that was indescribable. It always took you back to those days where he was broken and despondent after his father had died. Those days where he needed you to care for him because no one else could. You understood what crushing loneliness felt like and you were empathetic to him to a fault.

Before you realized you were doing it, you were back at the front door - the skin of your cheeks tight from dried tears you had shed when you realized several uncomfortable truths.

You had nowhere to run to

You didn’t have the strength to leave him

You were in love with him, your kidnapper

Just like Jungkook couldn’t live without you, you could no longer live without him. He had infected you with love, the roots of his carnal desire burrowing deep under your skin and penetrating your heart.

You had delivered a single knock to the door before it was ripped open - he had been waiting there that entire time. He had given you the chance to return on your own before he had sent them out to find you.

A choked sob parted his pretty lips before he pulled you into a crushing embrace, collapsing onto the floor with you in his lap. The skin around his eyes and nose were pink, his cheeks glistening with tears as he pressed desperate kisses to your forehead and cheeks, his hand running over your hair like you were his long lost lover returned.

“Why did you leave me?” He whimpered, sniffling as he attempted to stop his tears.

You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth so you did what you had learned to do best, you lied.

“I’m so sorry, Kook. My mother called and said it was an emergency, I didn’t even think I just grabbed what I could and left but I was coming back.” You calmly explained, cupping his cheeks tenderly and wiping away his tears.

“I thought you were gone, I thought you weren’t coming back. I don’t want to be alone, I can’t be alone,” His words rushed out, like he couldn’t hold himself together and needed to say everything he could before he collapsed.

“I’m not leaving you, Kook. I love you.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me, please I need to hear you say it,” He begged, pressing his forehead against your own.

There was a beat of silence before you spoke, your mind trying to warn you one last time not to make a stupid decision. But in the end, the heart tends to triumph.

“I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

You weren’t Cho Minji, you had no incredible story to tell and nowhere to escape to.

You weren’t Cho Minji, you were in love.

Want to read the main series? Click here to read part one!

#10 series #drabbles #10 series drabbles #bts x reader #yandere bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere #yandere bts #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere kpop #yandere bts drabbles #jungkook drabbles #yandere jungkook drabbles #bts drabbles

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pe0ple3ater · 2 months

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Roier brings a mauled federation worker to Cellbit as a way to get him to stop working. Cellbit eats the worker.

Roier laced the worker with catnip (dont ask me how) and watches as Cellbit turns into a cute kitty and brings him back to their bedroom to 'play.'

- ✨ anon

Heyyy. I'm obsessed with this prompt.

Roier is a good husband.

He really is, he pays a lot of attention to his Cellbo. So, of course he knows that the dead Federation workers are his husbands doing. Cellbit really isn't subtle about it, hard as he tries Roier always wakes up when he slips out of bed. He isn't nearly as practiced in removing bloodstains as Roier is, so of course Roier knows.

He doesn't mind, really! Cellbit is doing what he needs to do, and Roier supports his husband in everything. He doesn't like the secrets, it's never been like them to keep things from each other.

So, that's why Roier is here.

The carcass is laid out on the island in their kitchen, chest cavity opened and bared to the ceiling, white fur stained and matted with blood. A heart carved into the workers throat, Roier thought it was a cute little touch. He's currently cooking the meat he'd managed to get off the worker, cooking in it a bit of the catnip infused oil Tazercraft made for him.

Cellbit should be home any moment, and every second that passes by has anticipation bubbling under Roier's skin.

The door swings opens and a grin spreads across Roier's face. Perfect timing, really. Roier takes the meat off the furnace and starts plating it. He tracks the sound of Cellbit's footsteps, the man having obviously seen the bloody trail leading to the kitchen.

"Guaptio?" Cellbit asks, rounding the corner a second later. Roier turns to face him, watching the way his eyes widen and his breath catches. His pupils dilate and his tail flicks erratically behind him. Roier smiles wider and sets two plates on their kitchen table.

"Welcome back, gathino," Roier greets and pulls a chair out. Cellbit's eyes scan the room, catching on the corpse on their counter dripping blood onto the ground. His gaze snaps to Roier and he walks over to him silently. Cellbit's lack of reaction is making Roier a little nervous, he hasn't really let much of this side of himself be seen but this seems like the exact kind of thing Cellbit would like.

Cellbit stands in front of Roier and reaches up, eyes laser focused on his face, and licks the pad of his thumb. Roier's gaze flicks instantly to the movement. Cellbit wipes something on Roier's cheek away and then cups his face fully between his hands.

"I love you," he breathes, pulling Roier in for a very passionate kiss. Roier's hands go to rest on Cellbit's waist and he smiles into the kiss. When Cellbit gets his fill of kissing he pulls away and looks down at the food on the plate, unwilling to let go of Roier but obviously eager to get to the food. Roier laughs softly and guides him to sit, kissing the space between his ears and sitting at his own chair.

They eat, they talk about their days. Cellbit's ears twitch every time a drop of blood hits the ground. Halfway through the meal he seems to finally notice the catnip. Cellbit's eyes go half lidded and his talking trails out to little mewls and purrs. It doesn't take long until he's basically climbing into Roier's lap and pawing at his chest.

Roier smiles wide, considers this a success, and picks up his kitten. He carries Cellbit to their bedroom and lays him out on the bed.

The corpse downstairs stays flayed out on their counter, anyone could come by and see it. Roier doesn't care, and he makes sure Cellbit can't think of anything but him.

#qsmpnsfw #cellb!t #ro!er #this was not exactly how I thought this would turn out #cannibalism #a peeper classic (cannibalism I mean)#ro!er is as much of a freak as cellb!t

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pedriscroquettes · 1 year

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CONGRATS ON 300 FOLLOWERS!! You deserve it so much, I’m obsessed with your work. Could you do ⭐️ #20 with Pedri, pls? That would be so hot I’m not even prepared. Congrats again 💗💗

only you – pedri

anon: sorry this is late but hope you enjoy 🤲🏽

prompt: “breathe through your nose.”

warnings: f!oral, m!oral, handjob, & fuckboy!pedri

the lights of the underground parking were barely lit and only stared back at you. the parking lot almost empty yet the sounds of skin and moans filled it up. it was embarrassing really the way the brunette had you in a chokehold, all he had to do was send you a message and you were already on your knees. fortunately, he was the one on his knees.

“fuck, hermosa i could cum just at the sound of your moans.” he says from in between your legs. (beautiful)

you cum without warning and soon enough you’re the one on your knees getting ready to pleasure him. his smirk was taunting and you knew you’d probably never hear from him for another couple of weeks. your relationship with the midfielder was humiliating yet no one else could make you feel so good.

“bet he doesn’t make you feel as full as i do. bet he doesn’t have you on your knees like i do. hmm.. princesa?” he grabs your jaw forcing you to look straight into his brown eyes. (princess)

you almost roll your eyes at the mention of rodrigo. the random guy in your dms who you’d only talk to for the sake of getting pedri jealous.

“no, pedri. only you.” you can barely answer with the hold he has on your jaw.

“that’s a good girl.” he starts unbuttoning his pants, releasing himself. “now suck.”

you start by licking him from the base to the top. he shudders under you and you get an ego boost. you proceed to swirl your tongue on his tip and leave kisses in the process. you then run your hands from the base to the top making sure to prep him before you take him inside your mouth.

“stop teasing.” he groans.

you take him into your mouth making sure to hollow your cheeks to fit as much as him as possible. he grabs your hair into a ponytail to make the process easier for you and more pleasure worthy for him. you place your hands on what can’t fit into your mouth and move your hands up and down making sure to provide some sort of friction. as you both your head up and down you make sure to leave kisses on his tip.

“fuck, you take me so well.” he moans and hardens the grip on your hair.

it doesn’t take long for him to push himself deeper into your throat. your gags turn him on even more. the fact that he’s the only one you’re willing to suck off somehow turns him on even more and he’s full on thrusting himself into your mouth. you dig your nails deeper into his thighs at the contact of his member and the back your throat. he starts twitching into your mouth and you don’t hesitate before taking him out.

“pero si ya estoy cerca…” he whines. (but i’m so close…)

“you can cum inside my mouth another day but not tonight.” you answer as you sit yourself on his lap.

you make sure to move the bottom of your mini dress even higher before taking his dick into your hand. you rub your hand from his base to the top as fast as you can while simultaneously kissing him. his kisses start to get sloppy as he gets closer to your high and it doesn’t take long for him to cum all over your leg. he leans into your chest to savor the moment.

you stay there for a couple a minutes in that compromising position before he starts fixing your dress. you already know what’s coming next. he’ll tell you he’ll call you only to leave you on delivered for weeks. you know you should feel upset or offended even but you’re dependent on him. pedri had ruined you and you didn’t mind one bit.

#wow…#got this idea from his new car 🧍🏽‍♀️#ash answers #ash writes #pedri #football smut #pedri smut #ash’s big 300

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ghost-bxrd · 6 months

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Hey! I was the anon asking about your thoughts on Bruce being a bad dad (or really just closer to who he is in recent times) and honestly I just wanted your thoughts on it, so thank you!

I also love reading batfam fics where Bruce is a father that loves his kids and believes everyone can be redeemed regardless of whatever crime they may have committed: that’s honestly the Batman I like reading about bc thats what got me into his comics. But it gets complicated when I read fanfiction that uses stuff like UTRH as part of the fic’s lore and then just glosses over Bruce nearly killing his kid to save the Joker, bc that’s very uncomfortable to think about. It’s hard for me to believe that Bruce and Jason are cool when Jason now has the experience of his throat being torn open by his ‘father’ (bc I wouldn’t call someone like that my parent), and our last glimpse of him being his body crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood. Like thinking about how much had to happen between then to ‘now’ in the fic takes me right out of the fic bc that’s just what mentions of times Bruce was a bad father do to me 😭

I prob could’ve worded that more succinctly and shorter but as you may notice I expand a lot on my thoughts lmao. But if you do think up any prompts on Bruce being a complicated father in regard to Jason’s rule over Crime alley, please share!! I’d love to read them and MAYBE write something if the creative juices start flowing

Side note: Good mom Talia is my life blood. Like the struggle of trying to raise her children in such an unforgiving environment where she’s been trapped since SHE was a child OR in a place that, while not actively harming them (in a League where Ra’s isn’t evil), isn’t giving them the opportunity to shine the way she knows they could. Good shit.

Very valid. Everyone’s got their own preferences regarding tropes and world building 💚 and I can totally understand the batarang incident part. Jason should be pissed about it. Rightfully so. On the other hand I refuse to view this part as canon because the Batman I know would never and I steadfastly refuse to write this part as anything other than an accident/misunderstanding in every single fic ever lmaooo

Hehe I’ll try to come up with some complex parent Bruce Wayne prompts soon, so keep an eye on the corresponding tag ✨

And y e s, good mom Talia is awesome. Talia’s life hasn’t been easy but she’s trying to make the best of it and carve out her own little space of happiness for her and her son, and upon realizing that it’s still not enough immediately prioritizes her son’s safety and wellbeing to send him to live with Bruce. Something I imagine would be absolute agony for any loving mother. 🥺

#ghost talks #jason todd #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #batfamily #batfam #musings #I still think people are allowed to write Talia however they want tho #there’s just too many character inconsistencies across the DC multiverse to have one correct characterization #and half the fun of fandoms is that you’re allowed to switch things up a bit #go wild

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bunysliper · 9 months

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what do you think would have happened if castle had gotten stuck in the AU?

Hi Anon! I hope you're still out there and that this was meant as a prompt (not that I'm not ashamed of how long it took to answer it if it was) and not just a question/discussion starter. Basically, I kind of wrote what I think the answer would be, so I hope you like this!

Hope Yet

He's ashamed of the disappointment that floods his belly when he wakes in a hospital to a dark-haired version of his daughter. It's not that he's unhappy to see Alexis – any version of her – but he'd hoped that he might wake right where he left, on a dingy floor dodging gunfire with Kate a little bit peeved at him for touching something he shouldn't have. Instead, he's… still here. Still in this world where he has miles to go to repair a relationship with his little girl, his mother still has almost complete control over his house because he'd been a schmuck with his money, and Kate – Kate is apathetic about him at best; miles and miles from loving him.

He'd been so sure he would be going home.

"Hi Daddy," Alexis breathes, stroking his hair off his forehead. "I was so worried."

Rick Castle hopes the grimace can be written off as pain from his injuries. "Hi, 'lexis. Sorry, 'bout that."

He licks his lips, looking around the room for anything that he might be able to drink to get the rough cardboard taste out of his mouth.

Alexis comes through for him once again, holding a small cup with a straw to his lips. "Slow sips. You were intubated and your throat might be sore."

He tries not to gulp it down, savoring the water for a moment before Alexis takes the cup away.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asks, leaning on her elbow beside him. He opens his mouth, but she continues first, "Dad, you were shot. What were you even doing that you would get shot?"

He exhales, feeling the tug of new wounds on his chest. "I was-"

"He was protecting me."

Alexis jolts upright, turning to the door.

Rick would be lying if he said he didn't jump a little as well. If his heart didn't speed up at her voice, husky with emotion and a lack of sleep. He doesn't know this her, but he knows her. At the heart of her, he knows Kate Beckett.

"Would do it all over again," he says, hoping to catch her eyes.

She avoids his gaze, looking at Alexis instead, but he sees her fingers twitch before she clenches her fists and releases them. He knows that move, recognizes it as her taking a moment to ground herself before she gives someone bad news.

"I am so sorry, Ms. Castle. I'm Captain Beckett, with the NYPD. Your father got involved in a case my detectives were working and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He made a call to do something incredibly stupid, but very brave, to save my life."

She turns to him, her eyes bloodshot and tired, but flinty and determined all the same. "I can assure you that he won't be put in that position again. Ever."

Castle swallows hard, wishing he could reach for her as well as the water Alexis had given him a few minutes ago. He gets neither, though, because Beckett takes a step back.

"I'm not staying," Beckett adds, licking her lips. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," he rasps. "Or Castle, if you want. Whatever you want, Beckett."

At his bedside, Alexis rolls her eyes. "Please forgive him, Captain Beckett. He's-"

Kate waves her off. "It's okay. I understand. The painkillers do strange things to everyone."

Still, she offers him a look he should be able to read, given how well he knows her counterpart. It's part-quizzical, part-amused, at least enough to cause her lips to lift at the corners.

"Stay out of trouble from here on out, Mr. Castle. Please?"

He nods quickly, even as he croaks an impish, "No promises."

Beside him, Alexis rolls her eyes. "I'll keep him in line, Captain. Don't worry."

This time, Beckett does crack a small smile. "I'm sure you will, Ms. Castle. I'm sure you will." She licks her lips, lowering her chin. "I'll leave you to rest."

Rick starts to call her back, to insist she doesn't have to leave and she's as welcome as his child and his mother (who, he supposes must be at work at this point, after all, her show opens in – well, probably now, if he's been out that long), but he can't make the words come. This Kate Beckett doesn't know him, and as much as he wants to believe otherwise, he doesn't know her either. He can't expect her to feel at home with him and his family the way the woman he loves does.

"Thank you for visiting," he says instead. "I'm glad you're okay; that was… that was all I wanted to do."

She hesitates for a moment before dropping her hand to cover his. "I know, Castle. Thank you."

Her touch disappears a moment later and she retreats from his hospital room, leaving him to begin to accept that this might just be the rest of his life.

Just two days later, while Alexis is at home retrieving some of his clothing for him to change into when he's allowed to get cleaned up, she returns with a case file in hand and an annoyed, but somehow fond, look on her face.

"If you're feeling up to it," she starts, licking her lips and shifting her weight on those impossibly high heels of hers, "I wouldn't mind having another pair of eyes to check this out; you and my victim apparently run in the same circles."

Rick Castle moves his hospital bed a little more upright, clasping his hands together and grinning. He tries not to look too eager, of course, since he doesn't want to scare her off when she's coming to him – when she needs, nay wants, his help, but he's all in already.

"I'd be delighted, Captain. Lay it on me."

Beckett hesitates for just a moment before crossing the room and holding out the file to him, perching on his bed at his hip and waiting for him to speed read (less speedy than usual thanks to the meds, but he manages) the casefile and offer his thoughts.

It looks like there's hope yet.

#caskett fanfic #castle fanfiction #castle fanfic #caskett #7x06 AU Fic #Castle AU Fic #AU in an AU #My Fanfic #Season 7 Fic

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obwjam · 7 months

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for the prompt, 26 and peter quill with a teenage borrower?

this has been sitting in my inbox for over a month LOL so sorry anon who was probably expecting something better, much sooner

from this post

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

“Aw, c’mon, bud. I’m not that scary, am I?”

You gulped. He kind of was, but you weren’t going to say that.

See, you knew exactly who this guy was – Star Lord, leader of the famous Guardians of the Galaxy. He was so famous that even borrowers knew who they were, and your kind tended to stay so secluded that they barely knew anything about the giants of your world.

It was the thing you hated the most. Giants were fascinating! They did things with such ease, and they never had to worry about basic survival like you did. You knew if you could study them up close, you could learn something and help make life better for all of you.

Unfortunately, you really failed to take into account how utterly terrifying it was going to be.

“Aw, man…” Peter frowned. He had noticed this little thing following him around this shop – they couldn’t have been more than 16 years old. He pretended that he didn’t notice them, since he knew they definitely thought they were being sneaky, but they were so caught up in following him that they didn’t notice the ledge of the shelf they were running across was rapidly approaching, and before they knew it, they were tumbling toward the ground. Peter caught them, and now they were sitting in his cupped hands, wide-eyed and trembling.

Guess he was that scary.

“Hey, don’t – c’mon, it’s alright, don’t cry!”

Crap, you were crying. That’s so embarrassing! you yelled in your head, furiously trying to blink away the tears without moving too much, but it was no use. You thought you were being sneaky. You thought you were being brave. But when it came down to it, you were just as terrified as everyone else in your village.

“Shit, um–” Quill looked around, making sure nobody else was nearby. The rest of the Guardians were waiting back on the ship, since this was supposed to be a quick stop to get these little cookies that reminded Peter of Oreos. “Hold on, ‘lil dude, I’m takin’ us somewhere else.”

You whimpered at the sudden movement, too stubborn to stabilize yourself in fear of looking even weaker than you felt now. A few minutes felt like a few hours, but soon, you stopped moving. Quill had found a quiet corner outside the shop.

“Okay, I think we’re safe here,” he huffed, leaning against a dirty brick wall. He took a moment to look you over – wide eyes, heavy breathing, arms pinned tensely at your side. He wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed, but he knew he had to calm you down.

“What’s your name? Can you tell me that?”

You squeezed your eyes and shook your head. Even if you wanted to tell him, the words would have gotten caught in your throat.

Peter sighed. “Okay. Names later, that’s cool, that’s cool. Well, I’m Peter Quill, people call me Star-Lord.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Quill perked up at the impossibly small sound of your voice. “You know me, huh? I’m that famous?”

You couldn’t help but giggle. How could he not know how famous he was?

You didn’t notice Peter’s soft smile. Maybe he would get through to you after all.

“How old are you, little buddy?”

You hesitated. “...Fifteen.”

“Fifteen?! My god, little dude. You shouldn’t be out alone! Where are your parents?” Quill nearly laughed when he said those words. He never thought he would be the scolding parent type.

You shrunk back. “I…” You didn’t expect him to get mad! And you couldn’t just tell him, either. Why did he have to ask that?!

Peter could immediately tell he had just asked a sensitive question. “Woah, hey, I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, feeling the tears splashing down on his palm. “I, uh, I get it.”

You tilted your head.

“Well, I lost my mom when I was real young, back when I lived on earth.” He said that like you should know what earth was. “And my dad… well, I kind of killed my dad, but I didn't even meet him until a few months ago.” He smirked at the look of sheer confusion on your face. “Oh, don’t worry. He totally deserved it.” A pause. “Anyway! What I’m saying is… I know what it’s like not to have…” He trailed off. “But I’ve got my friends, and that’s more important, anyway. Do you have any friends around?”

You gulped. One of the most sacred borrower rules was to never reveal the existence of others if you were to get caught. Of course, you had already broken the most sacred law, which was to never be seen, no matter what.

You couldn’t help but really reflect on the question he just asked. Sure, you lived with the village, but after what happened to your parents, you were rarely allowed to leave. They didn’t even know you had left to observe Star-Lord. They were gonna be real mad about that.

“...I’ll assume by your long pause and contemplative looks that the answer is, it’s complicated.”

You shook your head sadly. You don’t know what compelled you to admit this; maybe you respected his attempt to sympathize with you. Or maybe you just really wanted his help.

“I… I thought – if I could watch you, I could learn from you,” you squeaked. “Make things better for me. For everyone.”

Quill felt his heart swell. That was an adorable admission.

“But – but nobody listens to me,” you continued. “They don’t care what I have to say. They probably don’t even – I doubt they even noticed that I’m gone.”

A moment passed before Peter spoke again. “Well, what did you learn?”

“Well, I… I learned that giants can be really nice.” You instantly blushed. Did you just say that out loud?

Quill knitted his eyebrows. “Are we not supposed to be?”

“Well… yeah,” you said. “That’s why I’m not supposed to be seen.”

“Gotta say, little bud, you’re doing a terrible job at not being seen.”

Quill was relieved to see you laugh at that. He didn’t know why, but he felt this tug toward you. Maybe it was because you seemed to be receptive to his jokes, or maybe it was the way you looked at him with those pleading eyes. Yondu was there for him when he needed it most – maybe you needed someone like that, too.

“So,” Quill started, “you really want to learn from me?”

You nodded tentatively. What was he getting at?

“Well, if it’s alright with you… why don’t you come hang out with me and the Guardians for a bit?”

You nearly fell over. “What?”

Quill smiled. “You could learn how to fight, how to build stuff, how to pilot a ship… well, maybe not that last part, because nobody flies the Milano but me. But you could definitely watch.”

“Are… are you serious?”

Peter nodded. “Of course I am. Plus, this place sucks, right? Like, it’s totally boring.”

“It – it is pretty uneventful around here.”

“Exactly. See? I think you already know the answer.”

You thought about it for a moment. You would be leaving, totally unannounced. The village would go frantic searching for you… if they even noticed you were gone. You could actually see what was out there! You could learn skills you only dreamed of having. You could protect yourself… just like the giants could.

“I’ll go with you!”

Now, Quill was beaming. “I knew it. Your life is about to become insanely awesome, little bud. Just wait until you meet the others.”

You couldn’t help but beam along with him as he walked away, the landscape you once called home melting further and further in the difference before disappearing completely.

Peter Quill wasn’t so scary after all.

#wow why does it feel so long since ive written marvel #(because it has)#i hope you enjoyed!#obwrites #marvel g/t #g/t #giant/tiny

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