#but for now I don't care about that and enjoy making her life miserable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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scekrex · 1 month

Note

I’ve had this idea for a while and I like your writing so I figured Id ask you! If you don’t like it, please feel free to ignore!! Can we get Lucifer’s reaction to sinner!Adam being with someone who seems to genuinely love and care for him. I always kinda saw Lilith and Eve as people who wasn’t into the idea of being with Adam in a serious manner (Lilith a lot more than Eve) which is why they turned to Lucifer.

I just find the idea of Lucifer seeing someone genuinely care for Adam more than any of Adam’s past lovers really fun. Like, would he be low-key jealous? Would he be happy for Adam (as much as he definitely would not admit it)

I also would find it funny of what Lucifer would think to Adam dating a guy. The first man, progenitor of humanity, Mr. everyone came from these nuts himself, discovering he’s bi waaaay too late into his after-life, and after he becomes a SINNER no less! I can’t help but chuckle about it

Have a nice rest of your day!! ❤️❤️

Okay so this turned into some Adam x male!reader n Lucifer being jealous over reader. Basically one-sided adamsapple. Hope you enjoy, xoxo/p

Part 2

Maybe you can call me Eve, standing here under the forbidden tree

pairing: one-sided adamsapple/Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

It was a little weird, that the devil had to admit, it was a little weird to see Adam so happy, so relaxed, so lovingly. Ever since the former angel had arrived in hell after Alastor's little demon girl friend had ended him he had been even worse than before. He had constantly insulted the residents of the hotel, whenever there had been the possibility to pick a fight with Charlie, Adam had done exactly that.

And it made Lucifer feel strange.

Adam was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him - chest to chest - his guitar was gently placed on your back as he played for you. Has Adam ever played for anyone but himself? Lucifer certainly didn't think so. Sure, he had played concerts in heaven, but he had mainly played for himself, for his own entertainment, so that people listened to him had just been a nice bonus. But actively played for someone? No.

And your curious, loving eyes were watching his every move, an adoring smile was on your lips and Lucifer's heart felt heavy at the view. The thought was small but it bloomed in him, the thought that this could have been him, that he could be the one laying on Adam's chest while the first man played for Lucifer instead of a random sinner. It wasn't fair, but Lucifer had already known that. Life - or afterlife - never played fair. Never.

“Dad?” Charlie's soft voice made him tear his eyes from the scene, her hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Are you-” she interrupted herself as soon as she spotted you and Adam and a small sigh escaped her.

Adam played the last chord and then proudly looked down on you, a cocky smile on his lips as you placed a small kiss on his stubbled chin. One of your hands moved to ruffle through his hair and Lucifer suddenly remembered Eden, back when it had been just Adam. Just him and Adam. Those times were long gone though, and the devil knew it, he knew that what they had back then would never return, especially now that Adam had you.

He was thankful that Adam had finally found someone, that he wasn't feeling as miserable anymore and that he actually seemed to try and redeem himself. And yet Lucifer couldn't bring himself to be happy for the first man, not when the person laying on his chest was you instead of him.

The fact that Adam was dating a guy didn't make it easier to deal with though. If you were a girl it would be different for Lucifer, that way he could trick his brain into believing that Adam was straight, that he had no chance anyway. But you weren't a girl and Adam wasn't straight. The possibility had been there, the possibility had been right in his damn hands back in Eden. The bond he and Adam had back then had been special, it had been a connection Lucifer had never felt again in that way. Yet Adam had always denied being queer once his soul arrived in heaven. The image of him kissing your forehead so softly however shed new light on it, Adam didn't deny being bi anymore, he had grown comfortable with it actually. The credit for that went to Angel Dust.

Why you? Why not him? That's a thought that constantly occupied Lucifer's mind. What did you have that he hadn't? The devil didn't know.

Charlie's hand squeezed his shoulder apologetic, she knew. Of course she knew, Lucifer had told her himself after all. He had told her about Eden, back when Adam had been the sweetest creation of God's, right after ducks, that was. A thing Adam had named. Adam had named most of the things, if Lucifer was being honest with himself, it had been his job after all. But when Adam had named ducks, Lucifer had been there, he had been with Adam when the first man had spotted a duck for the first time.

Oh how bittersweet that tasted now.

You looked over, spotting the devil and his daughter as you happily waved them over, Adam simply rolled his eyes in annoyance but remained quiet.

Lucifer tensed up, Charlie however led him over to the two of you.

Oh fuck him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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realisticfanfictions · 4 months

Text

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 2.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I'm so glad the first one was well received! I'm pretty self-concious about my writing, but seeing everyone's hearts and reblogs has made me so happy! There's also been a ton of new people following this page, and I'm so appreciative you guys are liking my stuff enough to keep up to date with my writing <3.

Word Count is 5,427. Hope you enjoy!

"What the hell was that?" You knew that this made you look like a crazy girlfriend, dragging your significant other into the cold room and locking the door behind you. You'd gotten a few curious and slightly concerned glances from other staff, but by this point they knew better than to intervene. White fog spewed from your mouth as you spoke, giving you the appearance of a mighty dragon ready to burn down anyone who stood in her way.

Sanji, who hadn't fought you the entire way here, rubbed his face with his hand and shoved the other into his pocket. "I was just trying to be friendly." He shrugged.

A cold breeze caused you to flinch, but you refused to show any weakness. "Bullshit." You hissed and gritted your teeth, unable to fathom this man's arrogance. "I'm not dumb, Sanji-"

"And I never said you were." Both hands were now in his pockets and he finally met your gaze. He looked tired and you could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek - a habit you knew stemmed from his nicotine addiction. But his forced eye contact didn't last long and his gaze soon drifted to the corner of the cold room. He let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't help what I say to women-"

You held up a hand. "I don't care about you miserably failing at flirting. Well, I do care, but that's beside the point." You took a breath, counted to five and stared at your boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "I know that you're upset, and though I am very annoyed at you, I will say that I appreciate you telling me you're sorry."

"So it is about the-"

"Sanji." He slowly closed his mouth and subtly nodded. He was listening. "I know that you like women, and that you'll move heaven and earth for one to glance your way. I know that. I knew that when I started going out with you." You licked your suddenly dry lips. "What I get upset about, is that you went over my head and spoke to my customers in a rather vulgar way. I know you think it's beneath you, but I take a lot of pride in what I do. I'm good at it. And when-" God, your lips were so dry. "And when you go over my head, take over my table, insult the place that took me in when I had nowhere else to go-when we had nowhere else to go, and then ignore my discomfort and make a joke of it?" You met his eyes. "I am your girlfriend, Sanji. Something that you're meant to love and cherish- like how- I can't-"

Before you realised it, you found yourself slowly enveloped by the love of your life. "Hey," He shushed you gently as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He murmured and placed a kiss against your temple. "My love, you're shaking. I didn't realise I made you this upset. Please, forgive me."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just cold, dumbass. And still pissed at you." Despite what you said, you still buried your head in his chest and soaked up his warmth. It was then you realised how long it'd been since the two of you had been alone like this. Just soaking up each other's warmth and committing the other's smell, touch and the feel of their skin to memory. You're embarrassed to admit you forgot just how much you love his cologne. "Guess this is what happens when we don't have sex for a while."

He gave a breathy chuckle and leaned back enough just to press his lips against your forehead and stare into your eyes. "Well, I'd offer to remedy that, but I'm afraid the cold will affect my performance."

"Like you need an excuse for a bad performance."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

His usual, charming smile stretched across his face and he licked his lips, before hungrily diving in and punishing you with a particularly brutal kiss. He softly moaned into the kiss, and pulled back enough for you to see the devilish look in his eye as he bent down to press a kiss to your neck.

The door suddenly flung open and Pattie groaned. "I should've known." He exclaimed and threw his towel at the both of you. "Move. I'm trying to get some stuff for dessert."

Sanji grew a wicked grin. "What a coincidence. I'm trying to get me some dessert too." He chuckled and moved in to continue his assault, but was thwarted by an incoming barrage of hits from the disgruntled chef.

Backed by the sound of Pattie yelling in disgust, you laughed and shook your head, worming out of Sanji's hold and skipping out of the cold room with said blond on your heels. You both quickly ducked out of the kitchen and into a small hallway where you turned around to look at him once more. "Thank you for listening to me, Sanji. I may have blown my lid a bit too much back there." You fished around in your pocket and pulled out your lighter. "Go take a smoke break."

"Darling-"

You pushed it into his hand. "Take a break, and have a smoke. If not for you, for me. Because I honestly can't handle you when you're being all bitchy."

His shoulders dropped and a tired smile replaced his worried expression. He wrapped his hands around your own and placed a kiss against your knuckles. "Thank you, my love." He exclaimed and you waved him off with a smile.

"Whatever, you wallowing wag. While you're walking, watch the weather and water, and warn the workers if we're wayward. We don't want any wild winds, or another wreck this week."

He smiled. "You still don't realise you do that, do you?"

You blinked. "Do what?"

A hearty chuckle escapes him and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it." That damn smile of his made your heart flutter and while you were confused, you returned his kiss with a quick peak of his lips and watched as he walked off. You didn't understand why he was so weird, but you guess it's just part of dating someone.

Before you could go back to serving, a faintly familiar face poked his head around the corner. You squinted your eyes and watched as he walked around aimlessly. "Excuse me, are you lost?"

The boy in the straw hat turned his head in your direction and smiled when he noticed you. "Oh! You're (Y/N), our waitress!" He spun himself around and hastily walked up to you, almost tripping on the aging floorboards. "I didn't get to introduce myself," He tipped his hat. "My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"

That made you pause. "Oh." You dumbly said, not really sure how to respond. "That's... nice. But this is a staff only area-"

"You're a good fighter." The boy- Luffy you corrected yourself, interrupted and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Well, Sanji's a really good fighter, but you're pretty good too!" He made a pistol with his fingers and pretended to shoot. "You seem good with a gun. And the way you backed up Sanji and knocked that guy out? So good!"

Again, you weren't really sure how to respond. "I was only helping out, but thanks, I guess." You put your hands on your hips. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "No, I'm fine."

You blinked. "But you're in a staff only area."

He nodded. "I am."

"...And you know you're not a staff member?"

He shook his head. "I'm not."

You sighed and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "I mean, why are you here?"

A smile returned to his face. "Oh, why didn't you just say so!" He waved his hand around as if announcing something great. His eyes wandered around the room, as if searching for something in the distance. You were intrigued. "I'm trying to find..."

You leaned in. "You're trying to find...?"

"Yes, I am trying to find..." His eyes slowly drifted downward until they met yours. They sparkled with great mysteries waiting to be unveiled, a sense of adventure and bravery and fearlessness that you couldn't help but admire. He smiled. "A toilet!"

Before you could stop yourself, you smacked him upside the head. "Don't pretend like it's some big, life-altering explanation, you dumbass!" With each word, you brought your hand down to slap him on any part of his body you could touch. "Besides, there's three signs for the bathroom on the way here!"

He held up his hands, trying to block your attacks. "Ow! I'm sorry! Stop hitting me!"

You rolled your eyes and stepped back, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. Fine, come with me. You can use the staff bathroom, it's right down this hall."

Luffy slowly uncurled himself and nodded. "Thanks a lot! I was sure I was going to crap my pants, you're a life saver!"

"I didn't need to know that." You sighed and beckoned him to follow with a finger. "So, King of the Pirates, huh?"

He nodded, his straw hat bobbing with him as you both walked. "Yep! We have a map to the Grand Line, and we're going to find the One Piece."

You laughed. "Only idiots with a death wish go after that thing."

"Hm, not really. I don't have a death wish." He replied with a shrug.

With a dramatic sigh, you playfully shove him. "Sure you don't, straw boy. What's next? You're gonna tell me you don't plunder and raid villages wherever you go?"

He shook his head. "We don't."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Don't yet?"

He shook his head again. "No."

"Fine then, where are you going to get money?"

"Finding the One Piece will give us all the money we'll ever need."

"And until then?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure something out."

You scoffed. "They always say that."

He tilted his head. "Do you know?"

"I do. You can kidnap a princess and random her, rob an orphanage, maybe even take a business hostage and demand money or you'll start executing patrons."

Luffy stopped and stared at you. "That's really dark."

You shrugged and continued walking. "That's what you have to do if you want to find a crazy man's last fuck-you to the government."

His smile turned into a frown. "You don't think it's real?"

"I think that Gold Rodger wanted to bring about the age of pirates, and he did." You explained. "Doesn't matter if it's real or not. Its impact on the world is more valuable than any treasure he ever got his hands on."

Within a second, he was in front of you with a cheeky grin. "Ah ha! So you do think it's real!"

A sigh escaped you. "I honestly don't care enough to believe if it's real or not. What is real is the pain, and death it's caused. Nations tearing each other and themselves apart just to find a glimpse of a shred of evidence that horrid thing is real. And men setting sail and abandoning everything just because they think finding a gold chest is worth losing their family over. Then those same men kill other men with families just like theirs, spreading their filth and disease to every home, town and village just because they can't stand the thought of a man doing the right thing by taking care of his family."

Luffy tilted his head. "You sound like you care a lot."

A tense silence filled the air and you stared at this strange, but oddly charming character. So innocent, so naive. He had no idea of the world you knew, the one that you grew up in. It's rare to find someone this optimistic, or sheltered. You pointed behind him. "Bathroom's there. Leave when you're done."

To say that you were affected by his words would've been both an understatement, and a poor choice of phrasing. You weren't affected, per say. They rubbed you the wrong way, and brought up memories you would rather just forget. It didn't help that they ordered one of everything on the menu, and you were constantly bringing out dishes to a smiling, unbothered Luffy who just shoveled food into his mouth. It was actually really impressive, and you were glad that they didn't come last week when the Baratie did that eating competition. You're pretty sure you probably would've gone out of business.

With a perfectly manufactured smile, you set down the plate of ribs on the only available space between piles of plates and stacked glasses. "And this is the final dish - our limited-time French-Style Ribs braised in red wine and cranberry." You straightened up and the plate was instantly pulled towards the centre of the table. The man in the pirate attire groaned, but he shoved a rib in his mouth and moaned. "I hope everything's been to your satisfaction. Can I get anything else for you tonight? A refill perhaps?"

The orange-haired woman smiled. "We're fine for now, thanks." With a nod, you turned to leave. "When does the bar close?"

"It's open all night, but we do a deep clean around three to four in the morning. So you may not be able to get anything on tap, but prepackaged drinks are always available." The words flowed off your tongue like a rehearsed speech, probably because it was. She smiled and nodded her thanks, before turning back to the conversation they were in. As you walked away, you spotted a certain red-haired pig-tail wearing waitress near the till. "Macy."

Said waitress flinched and slowly turned to you. "Yes, Ma'am?"

More than a little annoyed, you walked up to her and lent against the counter. "Why are you at the till?" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying and failing to start a proper sentence until you stopped her with a hand. "Macy, there was one rule; don't touch the till. What are you doing right now?"

She paused. "Touching the till?"

You nodded. "Good job, you got something right." With a small glare, you pushed past her and looked at the total that she was charging, then compared it to the bill laying on the countertop. "Unless they've agreed to add a ฿65 tip on top of your 10%, I guess we've just found out who's been messing with the till."

"I-"

"You're done for the night." Her shocked expression turned into a bitter snarl and she began to tug at her apron. "Macy, you've got the body of a used fucking tube of toothpaste. No one wants to see you undress here, get the fuck out. You'll make the customers sick." She gasped, but you dismissed her with a wave and she stormed out of the restaurant. You sighed and opened the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out the book of paid receipts and bookings. Both luckily and unluckily, it was getting close to end-of-shift which meant that you had time to fix Macy's mess, but that the mess was probably smeared dog shit on a window at this point.

Grabbing out your pen and a calculator, you mentally prepared yourself for the long night ahead, when you felt something touch your back. "Hello, my darling." Sanji greeted with a kiss to the back of your neck, then rested his chin on your shoulder to watch what you were doing while his hand lazily stroked your side.

With a sigh, you turned your head to kiss him. "Hey, jerkface. Glad to see someone with a shred of intelligence." You greeted, then scribbled down some notes. "Someone's fucked the till again, and screwed the customers' out of at least three-hundred berri from what I can see."

His smile dropped and he reached for the book, tilting it so that he can see it. "Closer to five-hundred than anything. This table didn't even order the Lobster Thermidor, what the hell's going on."

You slammed your pen down in frustration and leaned back against him. "No idea, but I'm going to have to make some calls and refund tables." He wrapped his arm around your stomach and kissed the back of your ear which made you sigh and rub your face. "I need to make a list and figure out how much we fucked people out of money." You happened to look over at Luffy's table. They looked like they were toasting. "Can you bill them? It'd help a lot."

He smiled and took the piece of paper you had offered him. "Of course, my love. And give me a list of the rich pricks you want me to call. We'll divide and conquer."

"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked as he picked up the golden dish used to store cash.

"You, my love, didn't need to do anything." He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, before turning around and walking over to do as you asked.

Turning back to your mammoth task, now with a smile, you picked up your pen again and started to scribble down the sum total of every receipt that was put in by Macy. It was a good call by Zeff to bar everyone else but yourself from accessing the till. It was pretty easy to differentiate your neat and straightforward ones from Macy's abominations, but it still didn't make it any less painful. The Baratie didn't even serve quiches, so why would she even put that in there?

The telltale sound of Sanji's shoes smacking against the floorboards broke your concentration, and you looked up confused. "That was fast-" You were interrupted by him flashing you what was on the bill. You frowned at his abrupt interruption, but then squinted and jolted back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "What the shit is a 'treasure tab'?"

"We're going to find out." He said with a smile and walked past you to the kitchen. This was going to be interesting.

Just as you thought, the kitchen door slammed open and Zeff's wide, intimating frame appeared in the doorway. "Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Luffy, sweet and innocent Luffy, popped his head out of his booth and waved his milkshake. "Here!" Zeff locked onto him and marched toward the young boy.

"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house," You and Sanji, who had just come out of the kitchen, exchanged knowing glances and you placed down your pen. Led by your boyfriend, you grabbed a jug of water while he grabbed a tray of complimentary scones and he slowly walked around the scene that was unfolding. "But Baratie doesn't offer credit. You eat, you pay." You both stopped at a nearby empty table. You started to examine the glasses in detail, admiring the way the light hit the material, while Sanji wiped the table with a piece of lettuce someone forgot to clean up.

Setting down his glass, Luffy looked up at Zeff. "I think you're confused." Sanji and you shared a look. "The meal has already been paid for. I just haven't given you the money yet."

Pretending to look around the room, you caught the stern, no-shits-given look Zeff was offering the kid. "Yeah, and how's that?"

Luffy smiled. "You can add it to my treasure tab."

You and Sanji snickered at the tone in Zeff's voice. "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"A way to get your ass beat." You mumbled and Sanji quietly shushed you with a smile, trying to hear the rest of what was being said.

Still not realising what's happening, Luffy kept talking. "I may not look like a big deal yet, but you're talking with the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I'm gonna come back here, pay this bill in full, and with interest."

Zeff chuckled. "I got a better idea." And yanked Luffy out of his booth, dragging the confused pirate to the kitchen.

A sigh escaped you. "That certainly didn't disappoint." You commented and picked up Sanji's makeshift lettuce-rag, pocketing it to throw out later. "Guess we have a new busboy."

Sanji shook his head, but kept his eyes on the door. "Wouldn't be good at anything besides dishes." He said and paused for a second. You could see the metaphorical gears in his head turning, before he nodded toward the kitchen. "Hold on."

"Sanji, don't-" But it was too late, the love of your life had walked off, probably to rejoin the line. Your fists balled up and you let out a frustrated groan, your heels clicking as you followed after him. "Sanji! Don't piss him off. Sanji-"

The doors swung open as the blond barged in the kitchen with you on his heels. Your words fell on deaf ears and you rolled your eyes at Zeff who looked between you two confused. "Oy, oy. What do you think you're doing?"

You threw up your hands, but helped Sanji shrug off his coat. "I tried to stop him." You said as you wrapped his jacket around your arm and lent against the wall behind you.

The blond scoffed and held up a hand. "Com on, old man. Enough's enough-"

"Put the jacket back on, little Eggplant. You're not done with your shift yet." Zeff's face was tired and stern as always, and all you wanted to do was pull Sanji back and apologise for the extra stress. However, you knew that the two were stubborn and that would only cause more trouble than it's worth.

Sanji's tone suddenly sharpened. "Let me back on the line, or I walk." You almost said something, but considering you said something similar this afternoon, you settled for a glare.

"You can walk right back into the ocean for all I care. You cook another meal like that in my kitchen, it's going right where the last one did."

"You can kick me out of the kitchen all you like. I'll never be a waiter."

"Well that's fine by me, because you sure as hell are never gonna be a cook in my restaurant. Have you got that?"

Your heart broke seeing your boyfriend's face when he glanced over at you. He was so angry, and hurt, and upset. His hands were balled into fists, but you just shook your head. It wasn't worth it. His gaze shifted back to the man who had taken the both of you in, and then he turned heel, storming out of the kitchen via the hallway.

"So it was Macy, then?" When you nodded, Zeff sighed and held his face in his palm. The two of you were alone on the balcony overlooking the ocean. You were all on a thirty minute break before the next service, and you'd stumbled across the old man while trying to get some peace and quiet. The man you both admired and respected more than anyone was sat beside you tiredly rubbing his face. "And where is she now?"

You fought back what you really wanted to say, and simply shrugged, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "I sent her home for the night. Didn't want to see her fucking face, the red-haired bitch."

He shifted in his chair and leaned forward toward you, pointing a finger in your direction. "There is no talk like that in the Baratie."

You rolled your eyes and put your glass down. "It's not a big deal. Everyone here curses-"

"But you never use such vulgar language when talking about a woman." He said, his tone firm and leaving no room for arguing. "I always taught both you and that boyfriend of yours to never speak badly about, or to, a woman. Just because you're twenty-one now, doesn't mean a thing. Get that?" Ever since you were fifteen, he's drilled his way of life into your head. From scrubbing the decks every time you dropped food, to spending late nights learning the difference between the various cutlery the Baratie offered, it was almost like his life's mission to turn you into a mini-him. To this day, you couldn't eat salad with a table fork, even though the minute difference between a salad fork and a table fork were so inconsequential they were practically the same fucking thing.

You bit the inside of your lip. "Well that bitch-"

"Macy."

The condensation floating slowly down your glass seemed to be more interesting than his face. "Macy has ruined all the work I've done to make the Baratie a place where you can just sit down and enjoy a good meal with the best service around. You know, I've had to deal with so much shit. More than anyone in this goddamn place. All the harassment explained away as jokes and if I'm uncomfortable with it, I'm just 'not getting the joke'. And then having to spend hours listening to the most intolerable stories about slick, rich pricks with small dicks bitching about their toxic chicks with plastic tits. And expecting me to not spit or get sick when they talk about me like I'm some quick flick." You took a breath, counted to five, and licked your lips. "But it's not enough that she'll get away with it. You also won't let me complain about her."

He sighed. "She isn't going to get away with it." You scoffed and raised your glass to take another sip, but a hand under your chin guided your gaze to him. "Look at me." Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. "She," He spoke slowly, his intense blue eyes piercing into mine in a way that made you feel small. "Is going to be dealt with." His hand released your chin and migrated upwards to rest atop your head, softly patting your head like he used to when you were younger. "You've done well, little Sprout." You sucked in a breath and nodded, but your pseudo-confidence wasn't fooling the old man. "And if any of these 'rich pricks with small dicks' ever bothers you again, tell me. Nothing is worth you being treated like a sack of shit over. Not the Baratie, not anything."

A fake chuckle wormed its way out of you, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Thanks, Dad."

A smile spread across his face and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to your forehead. Zeff smelled like a thousand scents, oregano, paprika, and a dash of vanilla extract, but his warm touch and the feeling of his scruffy beard against your scalp only felt like one thing: safe. You hadn't realised you closed your eyes until you felt him pull away. "Now then, I've got some calls to make."

With a groan, he got up to his feet. "Are you sure? My waitress, my mistake."

He shook his head. "My Baratie, my mistake." He walked past, patting you on the head as he left the balcony.

It was time to face your boyfriend, and you were dreading it. With his coat jacket wrapped over your arm, you slowly made your way down the hall to the kitchen. The doors were swinging slightly, so you knew that someone had just walked in, and you took a deep breath, walking over to the entrance - ready to go in.

"...banned from the line." You paused when you heard Sanji's voice float through the air.

"But that meal you cooked was incredible!"

A smile graced your face and you lent against the wall just beside the doors. "The True Bluefin Sauté?"

"Yeah!"

"You tried it?"

"Yeah, of course I did! I couldn't help myself. I didn't think the food here could get any better. You know, you're a really good cook. Why is Zeff making you wait tables?"

"'Cause he's jealous. I should be running this place, but the old man's so stubborn it'll never happen."

"So, that's your dream. To be head chef of the Baratie."

A pause. "I guess-"

"No, it's not." Both men looked up at you when you entered the double doors.

The other voice who you now realised was Luffy looked at you confused. "It's not?"

Sanji laughed breathlessly and looked at the table he was sitting at, flicking open his lighter and closing it again. "It's not." He confirmed. You smiled and walked over to where your boyfriend sat, draping his coat over an empty chair.

"So you love to cook. You just don't want to cook here?"

The blond grabbed out a cigarette and looked to you where you had taken up residence next to him. When you nodded, he ignited the lighter you gave him earlier and lit the end of his cigarette. He took a drag and hummed. "There's... this place," He started and his eyes drifted to yours. You both shared a small smile. "Where you can find ingredients from all four seas. East Blue, West Blue, North and South - they call it the All Blue. Nobody knows where it is, but..." His gaze lifts heavenward. "There's fish there that have never been seen. You know, rare seaweeds, spices that have never been tasted. It's a cook's paradise, and I'm gonna find it one day." He looked back at you and placed his hand over yours. "That's my dream."

Luffy's gaze was soft, but also intense. "If you want to cook, you should cook. Don't let some stubborn old man stand in the way of your dream." He smiled. "Stand up to him! Tell him what you want."

"It's more..." Sanji looked over at you. "Complicated, than that."

The young boy shrugged. "I don't really do complicated either."

You scoffed. "For someone who claims to be a pirate, you don't like a lot of things that pirates are known for."

Luffy looked at you. "For someone who doesn't like pirates, you sure do act like one."

Before you could say anything, frantic banging on the staff exit caught you all off guard. Begging for help, a man tumbled in and fell to the floor, barely having the strength to cling onto the countertop. On instinct, you went to pull out your gun but stopped when your boyfriend raised a hand to you and marched toward the man. Being the good Samaritan you certainly weren't, Sanji and Luffy helped him up onto a chair. "Are you okay?"

The man's voice sounded croaky and scratchy. "I'm so hungry, please."

Sanji nodded and moved to the stove. "Okay, you got it, man. How does some corned-beef fried rice sound?"

Pattie, appearing from his break, quickly stood up and followed after him. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

The blond didn't bother to look at him and you gave the pirate a warning look before moving to the fridge. "At Baratie, everyone eats." The love of your life explained as you rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he would need.

"And who's gonna pay for that? This is a business, we can't be giving handouts to every down-on-his-luck pirate that washes up."

"If a man is hungry, I feed him. Thank you, darling." He said when you handed him the beef.

Pattie looked at you for help, then back at him when you just shrugged. "Zeff kicked you off the line."

"Yeah, well, I don't see the old man here. Do you?"

The other chef looked at you once more, and you shrugged at him again. You both knew it was a losing battle, and so he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, your funeral."

You couldn't keep your eyes off the strange pirate while he sat and ate, and explained what had happened to him. Sanji was way too nice a person for people like him to deserve. You knew pirates, and a part of you was tempted to hide the silverware.

"He's a good guy." Luffy, who was slowly becoming less and less of a pirate in your eyes, said and you nodded.

"Sanji's brilliant." The words came easily. "He's the kind of guy that only comes once a generation. He's a dumbass, sure, but he's a good dumbass."

He thought for a second, before turning to Sanji. "You know, if Zeff doesn't appreciate you, you should join my crew."

Your chair scraped as you stood and left the room.

A/N: I am genuinely loving writing this! As said above, I normally tend to leave the reader's backstory and personality ambiguous, but this character has just taken on a personality of her own! This one is a bit longer because I felt like there wasn't enough content in this upload to justify it. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time with like, two conversations. I'm kinda happier with the longer/more in-depth parts because I get to spend more time building up characters and relationships, and I'm less tempted to accidentally write and spoil things that the OPLA fans haven't seen yet.

Also, I've grappled with the ages for a while now, and I've officially decided that this AU will have Sanji and (Y/N) be 21. Normally I'd leave the reader's age ambiguous, but since age is important to this story, it's needed to be put in there.

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Text

I’ll Take Care Of You

“It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

My Vash/Reader sickfic that I’ve been promising! I’ve been dinking around trying to get it to a place I like and I like it now, so time to post! Read on AO3 here!

Vash/Reader, 3,700+ words, GN!Reader, sickfic, sick reader, comfort, worried vash, non-sexual nudity, cuddling, sharing warmth, emeto/vomit warning

It's strange, when you're feeling unwell, how easy it is for the tiniest things to set you off.

There are plenty of day to day irritants in life, especially living on a desolate sand ball like No Man's Land. For the most part you'd learned to take many of them in stride, laughing when you could, letting the emotions roll over you like a wave when you couldn't until they receded softly back into the recesses of your mind and you could once again roll over and face the day ahead. It helped to have good company, and despite the crowded dune-crawler and the constant driving it entailed, you usually found somewhere amidst the chaos to enjoy yourself.

Not today.

You already hadn't felt well leaving the previous town, head and stomach swimming too much to risk eating more than some dry crackers and lukewarm canteen water, and even that made your innards pitch and roil dangerously. The car was constantly shifting, massive tires ping-ponging the entire chassis back and forth whenever you climbed over a particularly rocky bit of terrain and doing absolutely nothing to soothe the vertigo pooling in the bottom of your brain. It was too hot, too cramped, and worst of all?

Too. Damn. Loud.

Wedged between Wolfwood and Vash in the backseat, you had no escape from the blond's excessive snoring on your left and Nicholas leaning up over the center console to pester Meryl about her driving. Of course she was snapping back with equal levels of vitriol, voices rising slowly with each back and forth. In the passenger seat Milly was giggling along to their vicious banter, occasionally peppering in comments or fiddling with the radio dial, weather reports and religious sermons screeching through the fuzz.

The static of the radio crackled, Meryl's window-mounted fan clicked sharply with each rotation, Vash's head made a soft thunk as it connected with the glass of his window and Wolfwood kept hitting you with his elbow as he reached over the console and Milly was laughing and Meryl was yelling and Wolfwood was yelling back and-

"Hic…"

Your wet, little gasp silenced the car's occupants like a gunshot, your own hands too slow to stifle it from coming out. You could feel everyone's attention turn to you, even Vash beginning to stir to your left, and you couldn't tell if the heat flushing to your head was humiliation, sickness, heatstroke, or some miserable combination of the three. But you do know that said heat and said gazes made you curl up in the middle seat, covering your face with your long sleeves as you let out another miserable little sob.

"Are you alright back there?"

"Oh no, please don't cry! Do you feel carsick?"

"H-Hey, it's gonna be alright. Is this cause I kept hittin' ya with my elbow? Cause I said I was sorry."

You sobbed again, tears and snot and sweat running down your face and wetting your shirt sleeves as you pulled your knees up, curling as small as you could get. "'M sorry, 'm sorry, I'm fine."

"You're not fine! Did something happen?" Meryl couldn't look away from the road, but Milly had all but fully turned around in her seat to check on you.

"Do you need some water? I still have some if you're all out."

"C'mon, birdie, don't go all silent on us."

You wanted to shrivel up and dissolve into sand in the middle seat, curling in upon your own body as if it may actually make you disappear. This didn't help, it wasn't helping, it was just more noise and more worry and more hot tears running down your cheeks and you just wanted it all to stop.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Pulling your head up from your knees, you were met by Vash's hand gently brushing your forehead. His palm rested there, warm and steady, as he looked you over with a soft concern.

"You feel pretty warm. Is everything alright?" As he pulled away he brought his thumb down to swipe a stray tear from your cheek. You wanted to bawl, to clamber into his arms and let him cover you with his coat, shielding you from the heat and the noise and the (brightbrightwaytoobright) sun. But when you opened your mouth to speak, tongue dry and unsteady, you instead croaked out four, painfully small words.

"I'm gonna throw up."

"...Eh? EH?!? H-HANG ON!" You were jostled back by the force of Vash diving forward, clapping both hands over your mouth with a low groan. Your stomach pitched wildly, thick saliva pooling in the back of your throat as Vash jammed himself over the center console. "PULL OVER!"

"Wh-What? Why?" Meryl yelped when Vash exploded into her line of sight.

"JUST DO IT! PLEASE?!?"

She hardly needed to 'pull over' in the stretches of open desert, but the dune-crawler rumbled and bumped to a jerky halt that only served to make your stomach sickness worse. Not even waiting for Vash to unbuckle his seatbelt, you clambered over his lap and opened the door, collapsing to the ground just in time to empty the meager contents of your stomach into the hot sand. There was hardly anything to hack up, everything you'd eaten over the course of the day splattering out with a few shivering gags. But your body continued to retch out of your control, fresh tears dripping off your cheeks and into the puddle as you helplessly dry heaved on your hands and knees.

"Hey, hey, you're alright. Deep breaths, okay? I've got you." There was a cool hand brushing your hair back from your sticky forehead, and another rubbing the small space between your shoulder blades.

Finally, when your stomach had finished cramping and the last thick glob of saliva had drooled from your open mouth onto the sand, your body pitched forward dangerously, elbows collapsing from exhaustion. You would have face-planted straight into your own mess if Vash wasn't there to catch you, hauling you backwards so you could slump weakly against his chest as he sat with you in the sand. You could hear shuffling around you, footsteps, but your eyes were still blurry with moisture as you squinted weakly in the afternoon sun.

"Thanks, Milly. Here, drink this." You felt the rim of a canteen press to your lips, and let Vash tip your head back to take a swig of water.

"Don't drink too fast now, or you might get sick again!" One of Milly's large hands gently caressed the top of your head. "We've got plenty of time to get to the next town, so take as long as you need!"

"I'm sorry." You whimpered again, feeling twice as pathetic in the face of everyone's kindness. You could hear Meryl click her tongue somewhere off to your right.

"You don't have to apologize! Everybody gets sick sometimes, it's just a thing that happens."

"Yer lucky we're planning on a hotel tonight, way better than sleeping in the sand-OW! HEY!"

"Dingy!?"

"Quit being a jerk! They already don't feel good and you're not helping!"

"How am I not helping?" Wolfwood hissed. "I'm reminding them they don't have to sleep in the back of a dingy car all night!"

"Ooh, boy. There they go again." Vash sighed out a chuckle, hand never pausing as he carefully rubbed your upper arm. "Whenever you feel up for it, we can get going. Okay?"

As Meryl and Wolfwood continued to bicker quietly in the background, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's chest. His prosthetic arm came around your waist to keep you from slipping too far down, and you lolled your head back against his collarbone as your eyelids fluttered. "I'm sorry…" You slurred again, even though by this point you knew the apology was not necessary. "Jus' don't feel good…"

"You get a little silly when you're sick, don't you?" There was a teasing tone to Vash's voice, one that made you feel all warm and cozy in your chest. "You're being very polite right now."

"'M tired, Vash." You whined, rolling to your side a bit to nuzzle your cheek against his chest.

"I know." He said, so soft and so fond. "When we get back in the car, you can lay on me, alright? Then you can sleep the whole ride there. I promise."

"Mmh, yes please…"

You couldn't remember exactly how long you spent on the ground, just the vague feelings of Vash helping you to your feet, buckling your seatbelt for you after you clambered weakly back to your spot. As soon as he was seated he twisted his body towards you, leaning back against the car door so you could sprawl yourself out across his chest. And sprawl you did, fingers clutching absently at his coat as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck with a content little sigh. The dune-crawler rocked slightly as your other friends climbed into their respective seats, but with your cheek pressed to Vash's chest it didn't make you feel so dangerously nauseous anymore.

"Try getting some rest. We'll wake you up in the next town." His metal hand found the small of your hip and rested there, keeping you curled safely against his chest as the engine rumbled back to life. Eyelids dipping heavily, you mumbled out a few clumsy words of appreciation before blackness overtook your vision.

"Thank you… Vash…"

You didn't jostle blearily awake again until Meryl had already paid for your respective hotel rooms, letting you rest slumped against Vash in the backseat while she chatted with the man at the desk. Given the size of the town itself, it made sense that there would only be a few rooms available. Fortunately Meryl was able to book two doubles and a single, leaving you with your own space to recuperate while the rest of the group split the two double rooms between themselves.

"We'll be right across the street, okay?" Vash gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder as he pointed out the window of your hotel room to the nearby diner. "Try and get a little more rest, and I'll bring you back something for dinner!"

“Mhm… I will.” You mumbled. You'd let your travel bag thunk loudly to the floor next to your bed as you collapsed into the mattress. Some of the vertigo had subsided after your extended nap, but you hardly wanted to push your luck by trying to go out to dinner with everyone else.

"There's even a bath if you want to take one, might help you feel better." Vash gave a final, soothing rub to the space between your shoulder blades before you could hear him stepping away, boots thudding softly on the wood floor. "I'll be back before you know it. Sleep well."

"Have fuuuun." You sighed out, door clicking shut behind him and leaving you in silence. As tired as you were, there was a tacky sweatiness to your skin, sickness and desert heat making you feel distinctly gross to the touch. Maybe a bath would be a good idea after all…

Reluctantly, you slumped into a seated position before getting back to your feet. The bathroom was larger than you'd expected for the size of the inn, and your vision swam slightly as you reached over to fiddle with the knobs and start the sudden rush of water. It was even warm; how much did this place cost? Distantly you felt a little prickle of guilt, Meryl was probably spending extra just to make sure you could rest in a vague semblance of comfort. You'd have to be sure to thank her profusely, when you could actually think straight. You clumsily shed your clothes, letting them fall to the tiled floor as you slipped into the warm water and toed the knob back off again with your foot.

It felt good at first, dunking your head under the water and coming up again with a soft huff as rivulets ran from your hair. But you were far too tired to even wash yourself properly, and though the water barely bordered on warm, something about the heat made your dizziness spike all over again. You couldn't even bring yourself to stand back up to get out, slumping against the side of the tub and resting your cheek on the cool ceramic edge. All you needed was to close your eyes for a moment, and once the spiraling in your head stopped you'd be fine to climb back out again. You'd just get a little more rest in the meantime…

"Heyyy, are you feeling any better? I brought you some soup! We just need to bring the bowl back tomorrow morning."

Vash knocked twice on your door, but received no response. Man, you must be really exhausted. Your bedroom light was visible from the street, so when he saw it on he'd assumed you were still awake. He tried the handle, finding your door to still be unlocked.

"I'm coming in, okay?" He twisted the handle, hesitating just a moment before adding. "...Don't be naked!"

He shouldered the door open, one hand holding your lidded bowl of soup and the other covering his eyes. Kicking the door shut behind him, Vash hesitated a moment before peeking through his spread fingers. Your room was empty, bed still made, bag exactly where you'd dropped it just before he left. Vash's stomach sank, quickly setting the bowl on the table as he called out your name. You wouldn't have gone somewhere, would you? Did someone see him bringing you into the hotel, maybe peg you as a sidekick of The Humanoid Typhoon? There weren't any signs of a struggle, though. Maybe you were sicker than he thought, and he'd left you all alone when you were at your most vulnerable. His gaze flickered around the room, grasping for any sign of where you may have gone or what might have happened.

Finally, it landed on the bathroom door. It wasn't open when he left, and a slim trail of light was glinting from the gap between it and the doorframe. There was silence beyond it, a blistering, agonizing silence. He took two hesitant steps forwards, knocking shakily on the doorframe, before finally nudging it open and letting himself inside.

His heart twisted and stammered in his chest when his gaze finally landed on you, rabbiting up into a thundering panic when you didn't even acknowledge his entrance. You were slumped in the bathtub, one arm hanging over the edge and your cheek lolled against the rim of the basin, eyelids shut but fluttering weakly. There was a sickly pallor to your skin, and even from a distance Vash could see the goosebumps that had broken out across every stretch of it currently visible to him. You were even shivering, hard.

"H-Hey!" He didn't have time to be flustered at your state of complete undress, too busy stumbling forward to lift your limp and unmoving body from the bath. The water was cool, almost cold as he dunked his arms in, soaking the sleeves of his shirt and jacket as he hooked you under the armpits and pulled you into his arms. Letting himself sink to his knees so you could rest in his lap, he let go of you with one arm for just a moment, just long enough to grasp blindly at a towel on the counter to bundle you in. Your head thunked limply against his chest as soon as he had you wrapped in the towel and back in his arms. "Hey, can you hear me? I've got you now, it's gonna be okay."

It didn't feel like it was going to be okay, not to Vash at least. His stomach was swimming with guilt as he carried you back out to your bed, bundling you in the sheets and using the towel to dry the tips of your hair that were still damp. You were still shaking, thin blankets doing far too little to bring the warmth back to your body. Of course there wouldn't be any more stored in the hotel room either; it wasn't like anyone needed them most of the time anyway. He could dip back down the hallway and grab the blankets from his own bed, but that meant leaving you alone again, even for just another few moments. The thought made Vash feel vaguely sick himself.

Only one thing he could do then.

Vash shucked off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair, hesitating for a moment before doing the same with his turtleneck. Waterlogged sleeves clung to his arms as he wrestled the damp thing off, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor before moving back to your bedside. He tugged back the top blanket, leaving you swaddled in the sheet as he clambered in next to you and pulled the blanket back up to his chin. You let out a soft sigh through your nose as you curled instinctively into his warmth, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. Oh so hesitantly, like you were made of fine china, Vash draped an arm around your bundled form and splayed his hand out wide along the small of your back.

"I'm sorry…" He murmured, clutching your shuddering body like you would dissolve away between his fingertips if he relaxed, even for a moment. "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed. I won't leave again. I'm sorry."

"Mmmrh… Vash?"

He jolted, cupping your face with a hesitant call of your name as you blinked miserably awake. Head thumping and body aching, you squinted until Vash's face phased into clarity, all quivering lip and furrowed brow and stinging, glassy eyes. Weakly, you wrestled a hand free from the sheet, wiping at the corner of his eye with your thumb. He choked on a sob, melting into your palm with a relieved gasp.

"You're okay."

"Mmh… Head hurts a lot. What time is it?" You grumbled. The last thing you remembered was stooping down to run yourself a bath, then the rest of it faded into a hazy blur. Vash sniffled, pressing a kiss to your palm.

"Evening. Probably around 8? You passed out in the bath… It was really cold."

Fragmented memories began to click back into place, and you gripped the sheets close to your body with your free hand as you suddenly processed your own nudity. A spike of humiliation shot through you, as dulled as it was by your swimming senses.

"God, I'm sorry. I didn't scare you too bad, did I?"

Vash didn't respond, but the look on his face gave you all the answer you needed.

"Oh, honey." The sheets were tucked close up enough to your chest that you didn't hesitate to free your other hand to cup his face as well. His gaze trailed off to the corner of his eye, unable to keep contact with yours. "I'm so sorry, you must have been so worried."

"I-It's alright! It's not a big deal, really. I'm just glad you're okay."

You didn't relent, not yet, instead leaning in and pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. "It is a big deal. I scared you, didn't I?"

"Not on purpose or anything."

"That doesn't mean it didn't feel real. Oh, Vash." His breath hitched when you murmured his name, another fresh tear or two slipping down his cheeks. "I'm okay. You found me and I'm gonna be alright, alright? I'm right here."

A tiny, pained whimper escaped him as he bundled you into his arms, hiding his teary face in the crook of your neck. Both flesh and metal hands fisted the fabric draped across your back as he pressed a kiss to the soft space in between your neck and your shoulder. "I shouldn't have left. I should have made sure you were okay. I shouldn't have told you to take a bath."

"Hey, hey, hold on. You didn't make me do anything, I chose to take a bath. None of this is your fault, Vash. Things happen sometimes." Your cradled the back of his head in one hand, and rubbed soothing circles across his broad back with the other. "You came to check on me, and you found me, and you got me warm. You're so good, Vash. My wonderful boy."

He sniffled against your neck again, but you could feel the faintest hint of a smile pressed against your skin. "...I brought you some soup. Are you hungry?"

You hummed, trailing your fingertips up and down the jut of his shoulder blade. "In a little bit. Can you warm me up a bit more first? You're like a living space heater."

Finally, you could feel some of the nervous tension begin to eke out of Vash's muscles as he began to melt into your arms. He tugged you forward, just enough that your fronts were pressed together from the chest all the way down to where your legs intertwined, thin fabric sheet separating your bare chests.

"Good? Not too warm?" His heartbeat was thundering loud enough for you to feel, his hands so gentle where they rested upon your exhausted body. "Let me know if you get too warm, okay?"

"I will. But this is perfect." You nuzzled your forehead against his shoulder, making him stifle a soft chuckle. "I could fall asleep again."

"Not yet! You've got to at least eat something first, okay? After you eat, then you can sleep."

"Always looking after me.~" You cooed. "I will, okay? In just a few minutes."

Your answer seemed to placate him for now as he pressed another kiss to your neck, light and chaste. He nosed along your jawbone, breath light and ticklish as he murmured. "Can I stay here tonight? I know I have my own room, and you need to rest, and I don't want to be a bother, but-"

"Yes." You replied, before he could talk himself out of it. "Yes, please stay with me. I want you to."

There was a palpable relief in the sigh he let out at your response. "Good. Cause I probably just would have camped out in the hallway if you said no. Might get in trouble with the owners for that."

"Well we can't have that happen, now can we?"

"No we cannot.~"

You chuckled, body feeling light for the first time that day as you let Vash cradle you in his steady arms.

#vash x reader #vash the stampede #trigun imagines #trigun #trigun stampede #my writing #long post

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daisywrites101 · 1 month

Text

Dr. Robert Chase x GN!Reader

Request: hi!! hope you’re doing well :) i saw you were taking imagines for house requests… was wondering if you could do something with a gn!reader and chase. something fluffy and cute if possible, like chase realizing his feelings for his best friend (being reader) and him trying to figure out how to confess ^^ thank you! have a great day

A/N: I hope that this is what you wanted! I took your idea and just ran with it! I apologize that this took awhile to get out. Life has been crazy lately between school and just some personal things going on. Enjoy the story!

"You are so miserable." Foreman says out of nowhere. Chase looks over at him, clearly offended. "What are you talking about, Foreman?" Chase questions. "You clearly have feelings for L/N. Ever since they started here it's pretty obvious that you like her, and not just like a coworker type deal, and more than you liked Cameron, which says a lot." he says then looks down into the microscope.

Foreman wasn't wrong. Chase had hard feelings for you, when Cameron explained to Chase that their relationship wasn't passing friends with benefits, he moved on. Soon after that is when you started. Having a background in pediatrics and in pathology, House deemed you as necessary to his team. Chase and you had become close, becoming best friends quickly, and Chase falling for you even faster, and it became blatantly obvious to everyone around you that chase liked you, except for you, of course.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Y/N and I are simply friends, best friends even." Chase claims. "Whatever you say, Chase. But you're calling them by their first name, and not to mention that you care for them more than you did for Cameron when the two of you had the fling you had, makes it totally obvious to everyone around the two of you that you like them. I am surprised House has not said anything at this point." Foreman explains, and Chase knows that he is right. Chase has never cared for anyone like he cared for you. when he noticed that you were having on off day, he always would buy your favorite drink to help you feel better. He would spend time with you, both inside and outside of work. Whenever he got the chance he would pair up with you during cases, either sitting in with you while doing MRIs, or even just sitting in the lab running tests, just like Foreman and him were doing now. House allowed you to stay and monitor the patient, but he assigned Foreman and Chase to run the endless stream of labs. It made sense that you stay to monitor him, given your history in peds, but he wished that he was with you. You made him smile, no matter what you did. You made him feel warm inside, more than Cameron did when he was with her. He knew that he wanted to tell you how he was feeling, but he was not sure how.

"How would you suggest I go about telling them how I feel?" Chase asks Foreman. Foreman pulls away from his microscope, looking at Chase baffled. Chase keeps a straight face, letting Foreman know that he is serious. "Oh you're serious." Foreman states. "Um, yeah, I would like to think so." Chase adds. "Look, just plan something nice for them, or you can straight up just tell them." Foreman says to Chase, being blunt but also trying to give him some advice. Chase nods, thinking about what he could do. "Thanks Foreman." He says then goes back to running tests.

Over the next few days, the case ended and the patient ended up having a case of sarcoidosis, and they received treatment. You stand in front of the mirror in your apartment. Your shirt hanging loose on your shoulders, and the waist band of your sweats fitting loosely on your hips. You stand there wondering if you look okay, as Chase had invited you to his apartment for a movie night. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but you still felt a tad self-conscious. What if you were dressed too comfortably? Should you change into something that fits, rather than something that is a few sizes too big? The thoughts are in your head are interrupted by a knock at the door of your apartment. You look over your shoulder at the clock on your night stand and it read 7:30 pm. He was right on time as always. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, fluff your hair to make it sit how you would like it to, turn the nearby light off and head to the door. you open it to see Chase standing there. When he sees your face, his lights up with a smile, causing your own smile to form on your face.

“You ready?” Chase simply asks, hair falling in his face when he tilts his head slightly. You simply nod and he moves to the side so you can leave your apartment. You step out and lock the door behind you after you close it. Chase walks you to his car, and he opens the door for you, you climb inside and get closes the door behind you. He walks over to the other side, climbs in the car himself, starts it, and then begins the drive to his place.

You arrived at Chase’s apartment and he walks through the door for you, so he is able to hold the door as you walk in. You slip your shoes off and walk into the living room. Your jaw drops when you see the sight in front of you. There is a large bowl filled with popcorn in the center of the coffee table in front of the large couch. There are also two glasses of wine, two more with water, and there are some of your favorite snacks on a platter. You walk further into the room and look around you in awe. There were fairy lights hung on the walls to make the lighting dimmer, and there were tons of pillows and blankets on the couch. You turn around and face Chase, and see him standing there with a bouquet of flowers. Chase was standing there sheepishly, looking extremely nervous, but happy all at the same time. He steps closer to you and holds out the flowers for you to take, which you do. "Y/N, I have wanted to tell you how I feel about you for a long time but could not find the way to do it.” Chase says then pauses for a moment. You’re so dumbfounded, and honestly can’t believe what you’re hearing. Robert Chase, the one who would tell you how he felt about Cameron, was now admitting that he loves you. “I put all of this together to show you just how I feel.” He comes over to you and takes your free hand in his. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a while now.” Chase finally finishes. You quickly press your lips to his, in a quick but gentle kiss, in which he reciprocates. You pull away with a smile. “I love you too, Robert.” You say and simply smile. “Now, how about we continue our plans for movie night?” You say with a smile.

For the rest of the night, you and Chase sit on his couch, the flowers he gave you lay on the table next to the now empty bowl of popcorn and glasses. The two of you are now asleep on the couch, your body curled into his while he has an arm around you protectively.

#robert chase fluff #robert chase #dr chase #house md #robert chase x reader #dr chase fluff #dr chase x reader

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lfghughes · 10 months

Note

Sad fic with Jack using Breathe by Lauv? Apparently I want to hurt my own feelings with this request

a/n: the way i want to cry so much right now. don't worry you're not the only one who enjoys hurting their own feelings.

Things had been off for a while and Jack just didn’t know how to bring it up. He had figured the feeling would go away but instead it only felt heavier each week. He knew she had noticed and the fact that she noticed and still tried her best every day to make him feel better only hurt more. She didn’t deserve any of this and yet she put up with it every day. Jack stirred in the bed, partly not wanting to get up but he knew he had things he needed to get done today.

Next to him he felt his girlfriend stir and when she realized he was awake she scooted closer in the bed. His arms went around her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Good morning.” He whispered into her hair. If he could stay like this forever he would. This was the girl who taught him how to love, who was his everything, yet right now he had never felt emptier in life and he didn’t know how to even begin explaining that.

She always noticed everything and lately she had been walking on eggshells around him and he felt like he was doing the same so they could avoid the conversation that was needed to be had. “Is everything okay?” She whispered, a tone of caution in her voice. It’s not a question she wanted to ask because if anything she was terrified of the answer. Things weren’t okay, that had become obvious. “Everything is fine.” He promised, hating himself more for lying. “I have to get some things done today but I’ll see you at the game later. You can take my car, I’ll ride with Dawson and then after I’ll ride home with you.”

The rest of the day went by fine except as more of the day passed the more Jack knew he needed to do something or say something. They couldn’t keep living the way they were. His mind was so unfocused on everything that he could barely concentrate at the game too. They won but he didn’t feel like he put up a good performance and he was sure the critics would have plenty to say on social media later about him. But right now he didn’t even care what was said about him. “I’ll meet you at the car.” He quickly texted his girlfriend.

After he got done in the locker room, he made his way out to the parking lot and slid into the drivers side of his car. He turned slightly in the car and a small painful sigh fell from his mouth. “Jack, please don’t.” The minute the words came out of her mouth Jack could feel his heart shatter. Of course she knew what was coming, she always knew what he felt and what he was thinking. He had to look away because he couldn’t see the river that was growing in her eyes. Placing his head into his hands he tried his best to hold back his own tears.

“I’m so sorry.” The words were painful to say and he meant every bit of them but sorry wasn’t going to fix this pain in either of them. “I just…I need room to breathe and really think. You deserve so much better than this and than me.” This time he looked up, knowing it would hurt to look at her but she deserved at least someone who could look her in the face while saying this. “Jack, I want you.” At her words he shook his head.

“For right now I think this is what we have to do. Maybe one day if I figure myself out we can try again but right now I really just need to breathe.” He hated himself, he hated himself too much right now but he needed this, they needed this and maybe one day they’d come back together and be even better. “I’m going to drive you back to our place, don’t worry about moving out. The place is yours for as long as you want it. I’ll stay with Luke for a bit.”

The drive back home was miserable, Jack wanted nothing more than to comfort her as she cried in the passenger seat but there was nothing he could do. Once they were back home, he went inside to grab a few things he would need for the night. “Please don’t leave.” She begged, tears still flowing from her eyes as he froze at the door. “Baby..” He walked over, knowing this wouldn’t make it better. His hand cupped the back of her head, bringing her forward until she hit his chest. “I love you okay, everything I ever said to you was true and everything we felt for each other was real. I just need to figure myself out.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and before he could convince himself otherwise he walked out of their place.

#jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #( breathe ft jack hughes )

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

Note

How about “Don’t tease me whilst I'm sick” for either Wanda or Natasha? Maybe the guys are teasing her until R sees shes clearly miserable and tells them to leave her alone

Don't Be A Tease

〚 Notes - I hit 1k today?! Omg. Im so so friken happy! I have a little celebration in mind so I just need to finish that! 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - When Wanda get sick during gamenight you're sure to make sure she knows that she's more important then any game could be. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 970 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

Games were a big part of life at the Avengers campus, whether that be the weekly board game night or just the casual competitions on the many consoles connected to the big TV that Stark had specifically made. Whatever it was, everyone always enjoyed it.

It was a pretty ordinary Saturday, yourself, Clint and Tony were currently spaced out on the sofas’ playing rounds of SuperSmash Bros. You’d like to say you were winning but that’d be a lie. Both you and Tony were getting your arsed severely kicked by Clint.

You were just on the verge of losing another round when the large door to the room slowly creaked open, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Just then a tired, sniffling Wanda came into view.

“Oh damn, when she did turn into a zombie?” Tony joked light-heartedly, pausing the game.

"Very funny, Stark," she muttered, making her way over to the armchair

Wanda couldn't help but roll her eyes at Tony's joke. She knew he meant no harm, but she was already feeling awful, and the last thing she needed was to be teased about her appearance.

She just sniffled and grabbed one of the blankets which sat on the back of the sofa. “I thought you were saying in bed baby, you really don’t look well.”

She coughed weakly into her blanket, “I feel terrible.” She admitted with a small pout.

Tony leaned forward, studying her face. "You look terrible," he said bluntly. "You're all pale and sweaty."

Wanda frowned, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "Thanks for the reminder," she said sarcastically, rubbing at her red nose, “Don’t tease me whilst I’m sick.”

“Come on now, leave her be. She doesn’t feel well.” You shushed them as Wanda gave a tired pout. You disregarded your controller and held your arms out, welcoming the brunette in as she sleepily shuffled across to room to sit on your lap, “Did you get enough sleep my love?”

Wanda shook her head, her messy hair falling in front of her face. "Not really, I couldn't sleep that much,” she whispered hoarsely. You brushed her hair back and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, feeling her temperature was a bit high.

Wanda snuggled into your embrace, resting her head on your shoulder as you stroked her hair soothingly, "I'm sorry you're feeling so lousy baby. Let me take care of you?"

Wanda nodded weakly, too exhausted to do much else. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you whispered, “Let’s get you back to bed then, hm? I’ll lie down with you for a little bit.” You stood up, with Wanda still clutching to your chest and you supported her back with both your arms, “Sorry guys, your gonna have to play without me.”

Clint waved a hand dismissively. "No worries. Go take care of her," he said with a small smile.

Tony nodded in agreement. "Yeah, take care of our girl. We'll manage without you," he said, giving a reassuring smile.

You nodded gratefully and made your way out of the room, heading towards Wanda's bedroom. You gently laid her down on the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"I'll be right back," you whispered softly, placing a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

You made your way to the kitchen, gathering supplies to make some chicken noodle soup and a cup of tea. As you cooked, you couldn't help but worry about Wanda. She rarely got sick, but when she did, it always hit her hard.

After you finished making the soup and tea, you grabbed a tray and carefully carried everything back to Wanda's bedroom.

"Here we go, love. Some soup and tea to help you feel better," you said softly, placing the tray on her nightstand.

Wanda weakly sat up and took the bowl of soup from the tray, sipping it slowly. You sat down beside her, rubbing her back gently as she ate.

"Thank you," she murmured softly, giving you a small smile.

"You don't have to thank me, Wanda. I love taking care of you, you’re more important then any silly games." you replied, returning her smile.

You continued rubbing her back gently as she ate. "How are you feeling now?" you asked gently.

Wanda sighed, leaning her head back against the pillows. "A little better, I think. But still crappy," she replied.

You continued to rub her back soothingly, feeling her muscles relax under your touch. "Just rest, my love. I'll be here with you," you said softly, placing a kiss on her forehead. But to your surprise, your girlfriend sat up a little and reached around in her drawer before pulling out the remote to the small tv opposite the bed, she turned it on but she didn’t turn on a movie. Instead, she switched the source to the HDMI cable connecting your Nintendo switch to her TV.

“I thought you were going to get some rest?” You asked, still slightly confused.

Wanda smiled mischievously. "I am. But I also want to beat you in Mario Kart, this way we don’t miss out on game night." she said, whilst you went to go retrieve the controllers from the device.

“Hm, okay. Not too many games though, you still need to rest,” You said and she agreed as you came back to the bed and snuggled up beside her as the game booted up, “Maybe I’ll even let you win too, considering how crappy you feel I wouldn’t want to force the misery of a horrific loss on you too.” You smirked, earning yourself a playful nudge from your girlfriend.

“Hand me that controller.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmimoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfic #fluff #sickfic #wanda maximoff sickfic #marvel #mcu #marvel sickfic

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kteezy997 · 7 months

Text

The Other Man- Part Four// t.c.

Warnings: arguing (not with Timmy), cursing, kissing, Timmy calling reader "dummy"

"Can you believe that fucking guy?" Billy said aloud. "Crossing me like that, in my house. Fuck 'im."

"Well, he was right." you said under your breath, going upstairs.

"What was that?" he snapped at you.

"You're drunk, Billy. Just shut up."

"No, no, you agree with that little punk?"

You turned around to face your husband. "Of course I do! You have no respect for me anymore Billy."

"Are you fucking Timmy or something, y/n?!"

You were shocked that he even thought that, that he even questioned it. Even though it was true. "What?! How is that even relevant to what we're talking about? This isn't about Timmy."

"But are you fucking him?!" Billy was shouting now.

You were getting to the point where you totally disliked this man you were married to, and you could barely stand the sight of him. You wanted to be with Timmy, it was true, but you wanted to be away from Billy just as much.

"I want a divorce! I want you out of my fucking house, Billy! I don't love you anymore."

........

When Billy moved out, you were glad to be rid of him, and to be a separated woman. But you missed Timmy terribly. It had been two days without any contact from him. You wanted him to have space. But you didn't want your relationship to end, especially when you didn't do anything wrong, not to Timmy anyway.

You grew more miserable by each hour that went by without a word from him. You knew he had Amelia, but you truly thought he cared for you too. You hoped he wasn't ghosting you. At the very least, you wanted closure. But if you were being totally honest, you just wanted Timmy. All for yourself.

…….

Amelia loved Timothée Chalamet. Sure, the relationship between them was under contract, but by faking kisses, going on getaways, and attending fashion shows together, she fell in love over time. Timmy had a sense of humor and charm that could make anyone fall in love with him. They'd known each other for a while now and though they weren't romantic for real, they understood and respected each other.

Secretly, Amelia wanted to be with him, and not in a fake way. But she knew her feelings were unrequited. She could sense that Timmy cared for her and enjoyed her company at times, but she knew that she wasn't a priority in his life. She was more of an obligation that anything, that she knew.

It made her sad, but he had unknowingly cushioned the blow by giving her some of the most sensual and sexy nights of her life. They had a sort of friends with benefits situation going on. It didn't happen often. It was basically when Timmy wasn't in a real relationship, and he was lonely, or bored. But she didn't care if they were just booty calls, because it felt good to just be wanted by him. Even if it wasn't really real. Timmy was the only man she loved.

Lately though, Timmy had been even more distant than usual. They had become confidants in one another, and friends even. Now, he didn't ever talk to her. She invited him to dinner at her place, but he acted like he'd much rather be somewhere else. He'd said something about 'game night' at Billy and y/n's house, but he hadn't ever been so antsy to go to a game night before. It made her wonder what else was on his mind.

........

You couldn't believe it when you saw Timmy's name flashing on your phone screen. "I'm sorry," you told your coworkers, "it's important, I have to take this." To you, it was important enough to skip out on work to talk to him.

"Timmy?" you answered, your heart racing.

"Hey Peaches." he responded, cheerily.

You felt a sense of relief hearing him still using the nickname he'd given you.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry I haven’t called for a couple of days. I should have checked on you sooner. I didn’t mean anything by it, just got a lot of shit on my mind, ya know?”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I miss you, Timmy. Can I see you?” you asked.

“Yes. I miss you so much, I need to see you as soon as possible. The minute you get off work, I’ll pick you up. We’ll go somewhere.” his voice was so soft and endearing, like you were being cuddled and warmed up by each syllable.

"Okay. You promise? There's so much I want to say to you." You needed further assurance, probably because he'd been gone from you for what felt like such a long time. You didn't want to be without him again.

"Yes, of course I promise. You have my word, y/n. And my heart. You should know that."

You melted from the inside, "Oh, Timmy." you cooed, "I'll see you soon."

...........

You practically ran out of the office at quitting time. And there he was, sitting in his car waiting for you. "Timmy!" you called to him.

He snapped his gaze over to you upon hearing your voice, and he got out of the car. He immediately took you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. "God, feels like forever." he groaned, resting his head on yours.

"I know. I'm so happy to see you." You said, loosening your hold on him to look in his eyes. "It's over with Billy. I kicked him out of the house and we're getting a divorce."

He nodded, "That's good! He's turned into such an asshole. He doesn't deserve you." He touched his nose to yours so sweetly, pulling you more snuggly against him.

"I know, it's been a long time coming. Even before...us. I should have kicked him out ages ago."

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, eyes lingering down to your lips just for a second before they returned to your eyes.

"Yes." you replied, closing your eyes as he leaned down, touching his lips to yours softly.

He pressed his lips against yours but kept the kiss chaste as you were standing on a public street, while it was still daylight. "I love your lips. They're my favorite thing. I could do this all day long." he smirked, kissing you again.

"Timmy." you gasped softly as he moved down, his lips traveling from your cheek to your neck. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

Timmy stopped kissing, "Yeah." He took you by the hand, leading you around the car and opening the door for you. "Do you want to get some dinner?" he asked you as he got into the driver seat.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

It was so lovely. He took you to a ritzy place that you couldn't afford. He spoiled you rotten. The meal had several courses and he insisted that you try a desert.

You talked about everything and nothing, and it felt so comfortable, so natural. This was the type of thing you were missing. You and Billy didn't spend quality time together. Billy didn't care to do that. But Timmy did. Timmy was enjoying your time together, indulging you in gourmet food and sweet conversation. Timmy held your hand across the table, and you played footsy underneath it.

It felt like you two were just a normal couple. As if one of you wasn't on the brink of divorce and the other didn't have a girlfriend.

It was dark when you left the restaurant. Timmy put his arm around you as you walked to his car. The streetlamps produced a yellow-orange hue that made his curls look fuzzy when it shined on them. The lighting also defined his high cheekbones in shadows, basically putting a spotlight on his perfect porcelain skin that was sprinkled with freckles.

You were in awe of this man that was so beautiful, inside and out. It saddened you to share him. You knew Amelia, not well, but she seemed like a nice person. As much as you hated yourself for it, you wished there was a way to make her disappear from his life completely.

Timmy kept one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on your thigh. "I love this, y/n."

"The feeling of my trousers?" you joked, giggling.

He smiled and chuckled, "No, dummy, just...being with you."

"Me too. I wish it could always be like this."

"Maybe one day, we can have it." he said, taking your hand.

"Is this about Amelia? You never say anything about her."

"y/n, it's just...it's more complicated than you know." he said, sighing.

"Then tell me. You said you had stuff on your mind. You can trust me Timmy." you leaned over tucking your arm underneath his affectionately, and kissing him on the cheek.

"I know, and I do trust you. I'll just tell you: Amelia and I- our relationship isn't real. It's under contract for public promotion."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut

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stedefxckingbonnet · 6 months

Note

So this is gonna be entirely too much info but like. I've fallen into reading your reader x Izzy fics and I LOVE them! I've been going through a hard time with it getting to Christmas and having no family, and the Izzy fics just make me feel lighter. So mostly just thank you thank you thank you!

Now the cheeky bit - is there any way we could get a Male reader x Izzy with a pride and prejudice element. My friend said something about Con O'Neil as Mr Darcy and I damn near swooned. Either like a Colin Firth wet white shirt scene or like anything like the Matthew Macfayden Darcy (The hands! The sopping wet pathetic man!)

If not, that's more than okay! I still love your work so much! And again, thank you so much for it!

Hi, anon! First of all, I completely understand how rough the holidays can be, especially without family around. My heart is truly with you during these times and I hope you can still find joy, peace, and love this winter. If you ever need anything, I am always in your corner. I know I'm just a random writer on Tumblr but I truly do care for you, each and every one of you, for that matter! I'm happy I could even bring you a sliver of joy with my work. Thank you endlessly for reading, and I am sending an abundance of my love your way <3 feel free to message me if you'd like, I'd love to be your friend! My messages are always open, everyone! But if not, that's okay too. I'm just happy to share this with you!

Anyhow, I absolutely lit up at this request—I love Pride & Prejudice! OFMD and P&P intertwining is honestly heavenly, I got so excited to write this that I put a pin on another x reader I was writing (never fear! You will all get this one by the end of the week if finals don't absolutely drain me!). This one is reminiscent of Pride & Prejudice and the vibes it emits, but more so, my own spin on it, as well as twists and turns. Like, Izzy honestly exhibits more of a Lizzie in this one but it's also very clear his actions parallel Darcy. I really, truly hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Lastly, speaking of the holidays, I'm thinking of writing some holiday headcanons for Izzy or a few x readers regarding the holidays with Izzy! So stay tuned for that! Thank you everyone for your everlasting kind words, understanding, patience, and encouragement with my slight delay with writing in the past week.

My Gem | Izzy x Male Reader

Warnings: slight angst, some strong language, slight enemies to lovers, not so in depth research of 1700's aristocracy (even though I'm a damn dramaturg, but we'll look past that for now), made up my first non-canon canon character because just referring to her as "she" felt inhumane, brief mentions of fake suicide note, kissing

Word count: 2324

Thoughts of the first mate of The Revenge were absolutely consuming you. Devouring you alive, plaguing you—you truly couldn't get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Oh, yes, you tried. But there was no use. Daydreams would always swirl in your mind and they would only increase tenfold throughout the course of your days.

You were grateful that you at least didn't have to carry the burden of breathing the same air as Israel Hands anymore. You would even collapse being within ten feet of him, let alone seeing him every single day. Your chest ached even at the mere thought of the man.

To say you were confused by his last actions toward you was an understatement. Confused, embarrassed, miserable, even flattered...You couldn't get Izzy Hands out of your head. You couldn't get his hands out of your head...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"So you really are doing this, then."

"Yes," you nodded. "I am. I don't belong here—"

"You are a damn great pirate," Izzy almost seethed. "I'll be damned if I believe you really want to go back to that...lavish lifestyle."

You looked slightly frantically behind you in hopes that no one heard Izzy's dig at what was about to be your life again. You hesitantly looked back at Izzy, almost biting your lip in disbelief. "I just need to do this."

"Really? That's all you have to say?"

"What—what else am I supposed to say?"

Silence loomed between the two of you. He nervously fidgeted with the coat that Stede had lent him to disguise himself as an aristocrat. He couldn't wait to toss it back into Bonnet's arms, but he needed this in order to see you off safely, without any suspicions of what you had been up to in your absence from the life you were born into. He knew full well that you were making a mistake, but that you couldn't be convinced of this. His chest ached upon realizing that you wouldn't change your mind, that he wouldn't be able to change your mind.

"Goodbye, Israel."

Instead of responding, Izzy carefully intertwined his fingers with yours as you were about to step up into the carriage. You froze, yet began to melt into his touch, his warmth. You finally met his eyes just as he let go of you, and before you knew it, you were riding off into the distance, Izzy becoming a small speck fading from your sight. Before he began to fade out of view, you caught a glimpse of him flexing his hand by his side as he watched you depart.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You scoffed as the yellow carnation was pinned to your coat.

"Is something wrong, sir?" one of your dressers inquired, concern washing over his expression.

You almost laughed at such a question, thinking back to all of the late nights you spent studying flowers and their meanings, dying to tell him how this marriage was going to be doomed if you had to wear a yellow carnation. At the last minute, you decided against it, holding your tongue. "Everything is perfect. Thank you."

He nodded, exiting the room as soon as he finished dressing you. You turned toward the mirror, a frown falling onto your lips upon seeing your reflection. You had never dreaded a coming day like you dreaded tomorrow. Before you could internally lament further, a rhythmic knock was heard from your door. Genevieve—future wife. How delightful. It's not like you dreaded it every time she walked into a room, let alone walked over to your side, and it's not like you could tell she dreaded you all the same.

"Yes. Come in," you sighed, plopping down onto your bed. Only, it wouldn't be your bed anymore—you would share it with her, come tomorrow. Your solitude would be interrupted and put on pause forever.

Genevieve quickly rushed in, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her. She fixed her hair a bit as she did so.

"What is it that you want?" you demanded softly, your brows furrowing.

"Hello to you too," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow—"

"That makes two of us, Genevieve! Finally, something we can agree upon," you laughed, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Will you let me finish?" she crossed her arms without realizing it. Once she had in fact realized, an expression of guilt overcame her as she untwisted herself. A guilt you had never once seen her bear. You sent an apologetic look her way. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, nor the rest of our lives together, but I just wanted to say that you are lovely. I don't hate you. I just hate this."

"I don't hate you either," you sat up carefully, your head sort of spinning as you did so. "Far from it. This is just an...unfortunate situation we've found ourselves in."

"Yes," she agreed, carefully placing herself beside you on the edge of the bed. "You know, I would love you, if you were...there's no way to dance around this. I would love you if you were not a man."

"Oh!" you realized, looking over at her, relief crashing over you. "And I would probably love you if you were not a woman, quite honestly."

Genevieve gasped in delight, wrapping her arms around you as she laughed happily. You couldn't help but smile upon her embrace.

"Who is the lucky woman?" you playfully smiled, nudging her shoulder. You watched intently as you watched the pigment of her face turn rosy.

"Well...we've known each other since we were babies," she sighed happily. "But our families have been dear friends since before we were even conceived. It would never work out."

"Take "never" out of your vocabulary this instant!" you exclaimed, shooting up off the bed and onto your two feet.

"What are you planning?" Genevieve tilted her head.

You rushed over to your desk, filing through all that had piled atop it until you found a quill, some ink, and some parchment.

"We can't say you've run away—no, that would give hope that you're still alive and then you would be seeing wanted posters with your face plastered across trees anywhere you go," you sighed. "No. We'll fake your death instead. And you'll run away tonight."

Genevieve bit her lip concernedly. "Are you sure this will work?"

"I'm certain," you assured her. "Are you able to communicate this plan to your love before midnight?"

"Yes, she is coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight and I'm sure we'll sneak off to the gardens," she nodded.

"Wait—is that why you and Alice go there every time—"

Genevieve's hands flew up to her face, covering it as she giggled.

"My goodness!" you couldn't help but share the laughter. "Wow. I am not surprised, honestly."

"What about you?"

"Have I ever snuck off to a garden to—"

"No!" Genevieve rolled her eyes playfully. "Do you love another?"

"I..." you sighed. "Well, it's complicated."

"I've got time."

"I'm kind of upset with him at the moment. And I'm not sure how he feels about me. And I didn't realize I love him until after I left—"

"One thing at a time!" Genevieve tilted her head back to laugh. She place a hand on your shoulder. "Why does he have you upset?

"He held my hand before I left." you admitted, staring out the window as you spoke. Most days, you would have the curtains closed in order to mask the view of the ocean, as it would only bring you feelings of sorrow and regret.

"And you really question how he feels for you?!"

"Well, he's not like us," you frowned. "Believe me, I'm glad he's not. Though I just don't think he understands what a touch of the hand means to someone like me."

"You may come from different worlds with different values and rules, but holding hands is still an expression of affection wherever you come from," Genevieve pointed out.

"He did wear a fancy ensemble just to see me off safely..."

Once again, Genevieve's laughter filled the room. "You are blind!"

"It's just hard to tell with him!" you protested, laughing along with her. "He's hard to read. He's...very easily irritated."

"Is he like that when he's with you?"

"Less so, but yes," you shrugged. "He is a complicated man."

"But his feelings for you are apparent."

"My god, I need to go!"

"Yes, you do!" she encouraged you, patting you on the back.

"I can't right away. I have to get in contact with someone first, and if both you and I are found missing or dead by morning, it's going to be terribly suspicious—"

"You will find a way. I know it," she assured you. "Let's go and oversee the menu for tonight. I'm starved."

You laughed as she jokingly linked arms with you, leading you out into what you were about to leave behind once again.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

All had gone according to plan—you saw Genevieve and Alice off safely, and falsely mourned your fiancée the next day, and for only a few days after before Stede caught wind of your message. As soon as he had, you scurried to the beach, only bothering to bring a few possessions with you. You hadn't even bothered to leave a note—nothing attached you to the aristocratic life anymore. For good this time.

"Captain!" you exclaimed, almost out of breath. "Thank you. I'm so, so sorry."

"No need to apologize to me," Stede assured you warmly. "Believe me, I get it."

"I wish you warned me—"

"Oh, you wouldn't have listened," he teased. "I do regret having done the same thing you had, but if I hadn't, I never would have gotten closure with Mary and bade farewell to that side of me fully. You had to do the same."

"And you and Blackbeard—he forgave you?"

"We're working on it," Stede laughed. "He has, mostly."

"Do you think Izzy will ever forgive me? How is he?"

"Go see for yourself," Stede suggested kindly. "He's on watch tonight. I'll be in my quarters should you need anything at all."

Before you could thank him again, he vanished into the darkness. You smiled, though you could have swore your heart stopped upon the sight of Izzy Hands. You almost choked on the breath you had taken before gaining the courage to waltz over to him. Before you knew it, you were beside him once again. Izzy jumped upon sensing your presence.

"Jesus fuck," Izzy mumbled.

"Hello to you too."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh, Izzy, I'm happy to see you too!"

"I'm serious—what the fuck? You just up and leave and then you're back. Is this some sort of pattern? How long will your stay be this time, perhaps only a day, maybe two—"

Without much thought, you found your fingers laced between his once again. Izzy's train of thought stopped in its tracks and all he could focus on now was the feeling of warmth that had been yanked away from him ever since you left, and that now, it had been restored. A warmth he thought he would never get to experience again, nor experience at all. Whenever he spent countless days and hours reminiscing upon it, he scolded himself, convincing himself that he should be grateful he got to feel that at least once in his life. It was one more time than he ever expected he would feel it. It should have been enough, but it wasn't even close. His heart began beating out of his chest—what was this feeling he couldn't quite place? He knew it all too well and he was tired of pushing it down to drown. Eventually, you softly removed your hand, and you noticed Izzy's hand flex by his side once again.

"Did it mean something to you? When you held my hand before I left."

"I was giving you a boost onto your ride," he shrugged it off, turning away in hopes that the darkness would hide his smile.

"Right," you laughed. "Izzy, seriously. I have been going crazy. Every single day, wondering if you ever understood what such a gesture meant to me or if it meant absolutely nothing to you."

"Of course it meant something to me, dammit," Izzy sighed. "You are such a fool if you thought for a second that it didn't."

You laughed breathlessly, relief overcoming you instantly as you pressed your forehead against his. The way the moonlight shone upon his face made him even more breathtaking, even more earth-shatteringly beautiful. You couldn't believe what your eyes were allowing you to see, and you couldn't believe how warm you'd felt. You almost swore you'd never shiver once again. Your lips softly grazed his forehead before you pressed another kiss upon his cheek, before resting your forehead against his once again, your eyes fluttering shut, butterflies flying around in your stomach as you reached for his hands once again.

"Mark my words. I will never, ever leave again—"

"Shh," Izzy gently whispered against your lips. "We can talk about it later."

"Later," you nodded gently as finally, your lips collided. Your heart did pirouettes as your lips danced against one another's. In the darkness of your vision, you caught a glimpse of your future aboard The Revenge, with Izzy. You had never seen so clearly, until now, that you had finally found the place you were meant to be after denying it for so long. You had found your family and your lover, and they were all gathered in the same place. This was a luxury that would always beat the fancy balls you attended, the gold-laced coats you wore upon your back, the gems you were gifted often. Izzy was your gem, and he made your life shine brighter than it ever had.

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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 6 months

Text

From Vormir, With Love - Part 6

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, survivor guilt, suicide ideations, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: it's hard to realize how fast time goes by sometimes. Also i know some people are asking for a tag list but i kinda lost track so i'm sorry but i won't make one i think :/

You go back to Clint's the same day, late at night, in the car you borrowed while everyone else went to Tony Stark's funeral. Your dad's words are still resonating inside your mind, despite trying your hardest to ignore them. You don't know what to do, or what decision to make. Lucky for you, something is there to distract you when you arrive in the form of the lights being on on the porch of the house. You frown; it's almost 2am, so you expected everyone to be asleep at this point. But no. You recognize the redhead sitting on the bench and a slight wave of worry washes over you. Why was she still awake? Did something happen? You exit the car and close the door as silently as you can before you join the spy on the porch. She's holding a beer in her hands, and you guess it's not her first one seeing a few empty vessels are down on the windowsill behind her.

"Did something happen?"

Natasha looks up at you with a questioning eye at your worried tone, then it dawns on her she must look pretty miserable, so she shake her head to answer you.

"No, nothing happened. Just… grieving. It feels weird after arboring so much hope." The high of hoping to see their plan succeed against the cost of it. She clears her throat that started to constrict again, and offers you the seat next to her. "Care to join me?"

You agree, and she grabs a bottle to give to you from the cooler on the other side of the bench. You take it and open it in one swift move. She bring her bottle closer to yours for a small toast.

"To saving the world, and the heroes we lost."

"To coming back to a life you don't want," you answer in kind.

You clink your bottles together. Both of you drink. There is a lull in the night that you both enjoy, before you break the silence first. You're hesitant at first.

"You know… for what it's worth, I'm really sorry. It must be really hard."

She sighs after taking a swig of the beer. It stings, the loss, but more so, the what ifs. What if she'd been there, what if she could have saved him. Obviously, it likely wouldn't have changed the final result, but maybe, just maybe… she lets out a sigh.

"Sorry about your reunion with your parents. Sounds like it didn't go so well." She prefers to change the subject. No point in wallowing now. You take the change of topic gracefully, understanding she wishes to talk about something else.

"It went well, actually. We're having a barbecue on sunday. You and the crew are invited."

She snorts, then raises an eyebrow when she realizes you're serious. She tilts her head and pinches her lips. "You know what? Sure, I'll be there. Maybe I can go as your date," she offers with a wink.

Your heart skips a beat at those words and you blink a few times. Your date? Wait, is she serious? You look at her, trying to read her and make sure you're not hallucinating. There is a bit of a blush on her cheeks, but you quickly attribute it to her drinking. She's probably just slightly drunk and teasing you, you reason before you roll your eyes.

"Sure, why not," you answer, now certain that there's nothing serious there. "Just get ready 'cause my mom is going to ask you a lot of questions."

"I faced death and came back, I'm sure I can deal with her. I'm very charming."

You both laugh and you shake your head, drinking more of your beer. You were glad to see that at least she could still laugh even on this heavy day. You have no idea that it's because she feels so much lighter now that you agreed to have her be your date, after she got to reflect on the fleeting nature of life some more, and finally decide to take the plunge one way or another.

"Well, as charming as you are, I think I need to get some rest," you admit with a yawn that you hide behind your hand, your eyes watering with your need to sleep. It is 2am after all. It makes Natasha smiles at how cute you are, right as she nods.

"Alright, I'll join you soon. Oh, and careful in the living room, someone is sleeping on the sofa."

"Explains what you're doing outside." You put your hands on your knees, ready to get up.

"Truthfully? I was also waiting for you," she admits with a slight blush. You're surprised at the admission and almost lose your balance trying to get up. You almost can't believe your ears, but as usual, you decide to ignore the way her words make you feel. You turn around to look at her and try to not notice the way the pink of her cheeks makes you want to caress them and lean forward to kiss her, or how fragile she suddenly looks from where you're standing.

"You were?"

"Someone had to tell you we had another guest." She arches a teasing eyebrow. There is another reason, not so obvious to you, but she likes to keep you on your toes. You laugh behind your hand and nod.

"Obviously. Alright. Good night, Natasha."

She smiles at you, it is more tender than anything she ever said to you so far. "Good night. And thank you for checking on me."

"Anytime."

You then disappear inside the house, careful not to wake up the sleeping form on the couch, and go to your room. You easily fall asleep, and after you do, you're joined by a sleepy redhead who, after a minute of internal debate, finds a way into your arms. After all, you said yes to a date with her, didn't you?

You frown as you awaken, feeling something tickling your face. You scrunch up your nose and get your face out of… what was it even? You opened an eye only to be met with red and blond hair everywhere up in your face. That's when you notice that Natasha is in your arms, keeping you warm and cozy and, oh god you're blushing like crazy now that you notice what your hand is. You quickly take it off and get a groan from the smaller woman.

The sound of protest makes you blush even more, so you decide to find a way out of there really fast, or as fast as you can considering that extracting yourself without waking the woman is as easy as taking a bear cub from its mama bear. But, against all odds, you succeed and leave for the bathroom. There, you take the time for your heart to calm down and your blush to recede before heading downstairs.

How did you end up in that position? You aren't particularly cuddly during the night, at least not accidentally, so something must have happened. You just hoped Natasha didn't notice anything.

When you arrive downstairs, you notice that you're not the first one awake. There is a woman with long red hair there too, and you recognize Wanda Maximoff. She must have been the surprise guest who was staying on the sofa last night. You offer her a nod.

"Hi. Y/n," you introduce yourself.

"Wanda," she goes, and you grab some of the coffee she made. She seems lost in her thoughts, and you notice the rim of red around her eyes, like she cried. You're unsure about what to do before you take a seat opposite from her.

"I'm sorry for your loss," you try, and it startles her. She scoffs.

"Everyone keeps saying that, it doesn't feel like it means anything anymore." You nervously wet your lips and play with your mug. She's not done. "You don't even know me, you know nothing of my grief."

She's being a bit of an ass, but you decide it was okay considering she looks at the end of her life.

"I don't, you're right. Doesn't mean I can't feel your sorrow and want to take a chunk of it away for you."

"Is that what it is? Or is it just pity?"

With those words, she stands up, jaw set and tears filling her eyes. She leaves the room, and you sigh. You have no idea what she's going through, and you feel bad for her, but there is nothing you can do about it. You stay in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, when Clint joins you. He notices Wanda is missing and sends you a questioning look in case you know anything.

"I tried to be civil," you simply say, and with a frown, he goes outside to try and comfort Wanda. Once again, you stay inside. Clearly you're not close enough to be of any help whatsoever, no matter how bad you feel for the woman.

Lucky for you, you don't have to think about it much longer when other people start to pour inside the kitchen. Apparently being able to properly rest is conducive to getting up early. You make small talk while you drink your coffee peacefully, until Natasha shows up.

You blush upon remembering the way you woke up, and try to act natural when she comes and sits next to you.

"Good morning," she says your way after greeting everyone else, her hand ghosting over your thigh briefly. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest and you tense slightly, awaiting the contact, but it never comes. Feeling your tension, Natasha decides against touching you. Maybe it was too soon for you, and she doesn't want to push you. "How are you doing?"

You force yourself to relax slightly, and a smile comes naturally when you answer her.

"Pretty good, but I don't think the new girl likes me."

"Give her time. She needs to heal first." You nod at Natasha's wisdom, even if you have no idea what she's talking about.

"I guess Tony mattered a lot to her, huh."

"Not really. It's more complicated than that. Don't worry about it too much." And with that, she captures your hand briefly. You can only nod in answer, and breathe again when she lets go of the contact. You immediately miss it and the way it makes you feel. The conversation from yesterday comes back to you and you think it's a good idea to actually ask what she meant when she offered to be your date, especially since you agreed.

"On another note," you start, "what did you–"

Before you can ask anything more a crashing sound came from outside and you both immediately stood up ready to fight. June comes running and turns to Natasha.

"Your friend is losing it, you need to do something."

"I need to go save Clint's ass. Talk later?" She offers and you nod, dumbfounded. Seems like you actually could have gotten in a lot of troubles by upsetting Wanda.

"Yeah, definitely. Hum, good luck. I feel like you might need it."

Natasha smirks, then puts her game face on before she goes through the door. There is a beat of silence between you and June before you decide that you might as well ask her opinion.

"So, I have a question," you start very hesitantly. Your friend gets her hand up almost in your face, as if she already knows what you're about to ask.

"Don't bother, I already know."

"You do?" You arch an eyebrow, and it doesn't stop June.

"You need to bang it out with superspy."

You sputter, blush, frown, and look at the woman in front of you.

"What the hell June?!"

"What? Don't tell me it wasn't about her!"

"It was, but come on!"

"I said my piece then." You bang your head on the table, and June looks out the window to see how the situation is going. She sees she still has time to keep going and sits opposite from you. "Okay, just, listen, I think she likes you, and I know you like her! Don't let it go to waste. We lost enough of our lives like that."

Of course, June has a point, whether you like it or not. You feel something for Natasha, but you're too scared to act upon it, and if she feels the same - which you doubt - she isn't going to wait forever for you, so you have to act. Or at least ask if you're right to doubt there is anything there instead of assuming. Be brave. You owe it to her.

"Alright, alright," you concede with a sigh. "I'll talk to her."

"Finally." She looks up at the sky in silent thanks and you roll your eyes at her theatrics. You decide it's time to give her a bit of a heart attack in turn.

"How is it going with Carol, by the way?" You ask in turn, a smirk adorning your lips. A very light blush takes root on her cheek. Got her.

Her answer comes in the form of a finger.

"Do you need some help with that?" You offer when you catch Natasha alone in your bedroom.

You came upstairs to tell her food is ready, and she was taking care of a cut in her back. Calming down Wanda went poorly, and even if she seemed apologetic after the facts, it wasn't going to heal the redhead's bruises. It was unfair, but you understood that grief could make you do crazy things.

"I could do with some help." Her admission is small.

You approach Natasha slowly and sit on the bed next to her, a leg under you, grabbing the first aid kit for some disinfectant and gauze. Carefully, she surrenders the material she's holding on the side of the kit and turns around so her back is facing you. You look at her skin which is peppered with scars, and you can only imagine all she went through. All the hurt, all the trauma, everything that led to her being in front of you right now, so vulnerable.

You start your work carefully. You learned how to take care of cuts and bruises during your travels.

"Do you ever wish you could take someone's place?" She asks you in the religious silence. There is a tremor in her voice that clues you in how serious the conversation is. You swallow your jokes and answer truthfully.

"The first few months after the abduction I did. Then I realized it meant someone else would be in my place so I stopped."

"I do. To take off the pain from my friends." Her words made no sense at first, but as you thought about it, you realized she is talking about lessening the pain of Wanda. Taking the place of her lover who died long ago now, but only moments before for the witch. Carol told you everything in a way only someone who wished they had been there could.

"Displacing people's grief wouldn't really lessen the pain. Just make it different."

"I still think I could have… maybe if I stayed…"

She can't bring herself to finish her sentence, but you understand. If she were dead maybe things would be different.

She hangs her head low. You sigh, almost groan at her truth. You finish patching her up, and lay your hand against her back. Against her scars. Her past laid bare against your palm.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here with us." With me, you don't add but still think so loudly you're sure she can hear you. If she understands the subtext, she says nothing about it.

"Thank you," she simply answers, still looking away, but relaxing against your touch. It's a moment of vulnerability, but more importantly of trust. It lasts until a shiver runs along her spine with the cold. She smoothly puts back her shirt and you put your hand away. She gets up, and when she turns around, she has a shy smile directed at you.

"I can smell the food, should we join everyone?" She extends a hand towards you, and you take it. In a swift move, she helps you up and brings you against her in a hug. "Thank you."

You hold her, hum when she rubs her nose against your neck, your heart ready to burst. You wish for this moment to last forever against your better judgment.

Damn you're in deep.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha #fvwl #natasha imagine #idk how to tag

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

Note

College anon dropping in to say that the dubs aren't very good. Some, like the french one, sound like the text went through google translate (and the dubbing in general is terrible despite France having a good rep in the industry). The Italian version of Poison is low-key good tho

As for my reaction to Poison, imagine that gif of the happy yellow emoji looking traumatized/dead inside. I stared at the screen wondering what led me to watching this and how ANYONE would think this was a good scene. Vivziepop claiming that the leaks don't represent the full scene was right for once... It was so much worse. I could think of a more tasteful way to picture it in 5 seconds, it isn't that hard. She could have even kept most of the scene, just remove the graphic stuff to keep the suggestive dancing (a smart idea that should have remained subtle) and maybe keep the Val part à la Addict to show that, yeah, on top of "working" all night (because the graphic scenes made it obvious he stopped "enjoying" work early during the night), Val SA'd him and that shows the entirety of the hell he's going through. It explains why he breaks down and lashes out. Viv didn't need to keep most of the SA, the entire thing was implied.

Also episode 4 comes out of left field. Yes, it was foreshadowed since the beginning but why is Angel suddenly returning his calls? We SAW him ignore Val. He clearly HATES him. Since when is Husk calling him out and badgering him about being "fake"?? They've known each other for a WEEK. It's way too early for that. It's like we're missing 3-4 episodes of development in-between. Angel reconnecting with Val and showing hints that this is indeed a facade, Husk knowing a lot about everyone and giving a damn... This should be a mid-end of season arc for Angel. I'd personally make it end of season 1 so that he can show change during season 2, beginning as someone new, someone who slowly tries to show he cares and let down his bravado in small amounts, with clear hints of being a little scared of the reactions, until it naturally becomes his full-time persona. Maybe have Charlie notice at some point and subtly encourage him, DELIGHTED (in caps because that girl is extra) that Angel is getting better but having to keep her excitement in in fear of scaring him off (because Charlie should have SOME sort of emotional intelligence ffs).

Loser, Baby feels out of place. This is NOT the appropriate reaction to Angel's words. Did they rewrite the dialogue but not the song?? Here's how it sounds:

Angel: I feel like I've gotta be Val's perfect whore all the time so I'm trying to break myself enough he will be alone—

Husk: Well, it's okay to be a loser, baby! Look at me, I'm a failure too. You ain't special and it's okay!

....So Angel is a loser/failure/broken but Val is still into him??? Did they realize that this should send him the wrong message?! That Val will "love" him no matter what and that Angel cannot be free, that he's been making himself miserable for NOTHING?? First of all, Husk's greediness and addictions are NOTHING like Angel's situation. He signed with his real name. That alone implies that Val snatched him early on as he arrived. On top of that, he's being abused every way possible on the regular, for no fault of his own, and is self-destructing. He cannot kill himself and Val won't let him be killed. This is NOTHING like Husk losing a game for more power and being forced to be a bartender.

Here's how it should have gone for the song to work:

Angel: So?! The real me is a good for nothing loser who died in a ditch from some shitty coke! THIS is the famous, hotter than Hell pornstar that everyone wanna fuck! And I've— I've gotta be the part. 'Cause if I'm not... If I ain't then who am I?

Angel's fear should have been about being seen as who he was, as some loser that nobody loved. Let him feel like he beat his father, that now he's someone so suck it dad! You were wrong! Let Angel behave as if his life was a porn movie because that's all he knows now and what he thinks he should be like. Instead of trying to ruin himself so that Val discards him, have him try to be perfect... Because that'll stop the abuse, right? Val is happy when he acts like that. The perverts worship him. No one cares about Anthony.

That would make Loser, Baby work. It would achieve its goal of saying "it's okay to suck, we all do! Look at me, I'm a loser but my life isn't over!" and get Angel to accept that he's enough as he is. If you add in a few episodes beforehand to set it up, it could have worked better instead of being insensitive.

Personally I would have entirely changed the Angel/Val dynamic. Val can still be a whiny bitch but not in a drama queen way as is implied. He gets like that whenever he loses control of his favorite. Have one of the Vees groan and say something about Angel having done something as if it happened often. Make them used to Val throwing a fit because he didn't get what he wanted out of Angel or because he's having a jealousy fit. It already makes Val more controlling. It'll make the messages scene hit harder as, yeah, we can see why Angel left, the dude is unstable and obsessed. I'd be a little more fucked-up and have Angel kinda love him. Ofc in the Stockholm Syndrome way, he's been abused so much he's too attached to leave. That shift in dynamic would explain why he eventually goes back despite everything. Like in the show, he feels ignored in favor of the new resident and the way he's dismissed and talked about makes him feel like shit. He checks his phone again and ends up listening to Val's new voice messages... And this time, they're sickeningly sweet in a row. He's sorry, he's begging for him to come back. He loves him. And that's enough for Angel to go out or answer him. Put a few episodes in-between where Angel seems... Off? How weird, he's jumpy, more on his phone. He's out for parts of the episodes or clearly focused on something else. Then we get episode 4, where everyone culminates to show how bad the situation is for him. I'd personally not have Val hit him. He's smart enough to not leave bruises on his top whore. However, he's manipulative and threatening. There's no doubt that he COULD hit Angel whenever, especially with the way he cowers. Angel tries to diffuse the situation, so well that it's heartbreaking, and he gets bold. That line when he doesn't reply "Yes Val" is meant with silence as we wait for Val's reaction, waiting for him to blow up. A beat. He doesn't. He's not calm but he's not as angry. He's not going to hit him. He thanks Angel, touching him while the other flinches, a hint that he handles Angel roughly in this kind of situation, and just as Angel looks relieved, he announces that he'll have to work all night, distressing Angel again.

Ofc that would require extensive research and talk to specialists to do it well. Viv's audience can be stupid so it's more of a struggle to make it clear that none of this is Angel's fault and to not romantize this shit but it's more interesting than Val being so obviously abusive. IMHO he almost transformed into someone else in that episode and it could work but we didn't see enough of him to go "oh that's the old abuser trick! he's not as nice as he is with others when he's with his victim!". Idk how to put it sensibly but the impression he gave me was "whiny manchild who sadly was given enough power by Daddy Vox to abuse someone" instead of the intended "terrifying Overlord who is unstable and abusing his power to abuse whichever worker he fancies at the moment". I dunno Chai I just think it would work better if he were more manipulative and welding his power in other ways than by force. Like Angel isn't scared by his strength but by his influence. Also I would low-key find a way to make it so that Angel, mistakenly, thinks he can get away with some things to explain how he'd leave for the Hotel. Like having him not be a perfect victim. While he tries to cater to Val and keep him happy out of fear (and/or care because abuse fucks you up), he sometimes provokes him or tries to do his own thing. It'd show he's his own person and stuff. Sadly that would be lost on Viv's stans and it would absolutely spark some victim-shaming stuff or worse. But I think if she's gonna try to portray something like this, she could do with some nuance and not so... Cliché? Of course, it happens like this to too many people but it feels like she's applying a trope with no thought into it. The most cookie-cutter depiction she could do for quick satisfaction or to tick that case. A bit like how Stolitz is a mix of multiple tropes and is a terribly done version of that trope where a noble falls in love with someone whose class is lower with a sprinkle of badly done transactional relationship that sparks feelings. Thinking of HB, HH has better representation of abuse but not by much. I feel like if Stella was a man, she'd have written it this way? It felt like fetish fuel hiding underneath the surface whereas Stella was lazy writing.

I dunno man, I wanted to rant about Charlie and her design but episode 4 hit me like a wall of bricks

Thank you for all of this, College Anon. This was a great read, and you're right, the Italian version of Poison goes so much harder than the English.

Also Italian Val's voice is...yeah, 10/10 stars on that one. Mama mia.

youtube

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post #hazbin hotel critical #video reply

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my-fancy-hat · 7 months

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I don't think the fate of Asa and Yoshida is settle in this conflict nor that Yoshida's strike is aimed to kill Asa (fjmt is an expert in making us believe things that aren't), for the simple reason that both of them still have not completed their own personal arcs nor have reached the culmination of their development, especially Yoshida, a character who remains a mystery for what he allows us to see from him. However, this last chapter showed a new facet of Yoshida which overthrows a previous assumption that us readers had about him.

Kishibe himself praised Yoshida for his combat skills and his templance as a devil hunter: a few screew loose reflected in a malicious almost childish smile while killing a man barehand. It comes natural for him to act as a weapon, the problem is to be human while being trapped in a problem/system way bigger than him. This time, he's about to kill Asa Mitaka, another enemy for PS, but the feeling is not the same as we saw in part 1: he's tired, definitelly sad. He knows he won't find joy in getting his hands dirty with her blood. It's safe to assume he doesn't want to do this. But, why now? why Asa? what change?

The maximum exposure of his personal conflict was through his conversation with Mitaka about the advantages of solitude through the construction of parasocial relationships, and how both of them should better continue down this path, an advice he assumed it would help her to content her need of connections: his own theory of happiness.

This topic is what later drags Asa Mitaka into a depresive episode due to the dissapointment of her attempts to connect with people, and how she cannot stop herself from becoming attached and creating expectations from relationships that barely exist to only end with her feeling stupid and miserable, where the last nail of the coffin were Denji standing her up on their second date and Yoshida rejecting her feelings again all in the same day. Why do I mention all of this? If you think that Asa is quick to create ideas in her mind out of her extreme emotional starvation, we can say the same thing about Yoshida. His phylosophy of interpersonal relationships takes an expector seat in the movie about his own life, where his feelings are well secured out of the reach of what the screen projects, where he's away from the pain and dissapointment to interact with the reality of rejection. While Asa suffers because she's stubborn and doesn't give up trying again and again to someday end her pain, Yoshida accepts and lives with it as an unchangable reality.

Yet, I believe his theory started to fail to him even before he noticed, during his time in highschool his world-view started to crack little by little (most likely by Denji's influence on him). Even if he didn't share significant moment with the rest of the cast, he enjoyed his time as a highschooler and, well, it isn't what parasocial relationships are about? happiness comes from the ilusion of companionship, and during all this time we've seen Yoshida chatting with someone or reacting about his surroundings in a group, especially with Denji at his side, feeding this needed ilusion of belonging. After all, the deep of these bonds doesn't matter but they're still important/meaningful to the person in question.

Maybe this expression shows that he does care about the people he spend time with pretending to be human just as them, maybe feels sorry to destroy this little life he believes doesn't fit into but had the opportunity to experience. He wants something like that for him too, a normal life where his lack of humanity isn't in the way to his desire of connection.

This is why I find this line very powerful for him to say, he apologize because he couldn't be of help to Asa, to have separate her from Denji while securing her to follow his theory of happiness, and by that to have made her situation worse than before and for things end up like this. He failed to fight the unchangeable once again.

#his last attempt of revolution is on protecting denji from PS interests. and that's what will kill him in the end #wont adjunt his moments w denji bc there's too many and we already know he's important to him and this post is about yoshida+asa #yoshida hirofumi #asa mitaka #chainsaw man #csm #chainsaw man spoilers #i enjoy reading characters better so i leave the plot to smarter people #some people say he will get clapped next chapter bc yoru will gain a power-up for what nayuta said but like. fear doesnt work like that?#the fear of war to that scale grows slower than in a spawn of seconds lets be real

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notbadforafailedvessel · 1 year

Text

Reader is wronged by a person in their life. Alcina offers her help to do something about it.

Author's Note: There's some violence here but not detailed and not towards reader nor any of the characters we care for. Dark!reader's origins.

You are a person who doesn't like confrotation.

It's not like you forget what people did to you just to avoid it, but you don't consider worth it to go through the drama that a face-off entails. You prefer to put distance or avoid interaction with the person to stop it from happening again.

It's something that for Alcina is hard to understand.

She deals once and for all with people who is stupid enough to cross her so she never has to deal with them and go through such nuisance again.

But the day a person dares to hurt your blood family and cause nothing but distress to them from that day onwards, Alcina sees in your eyes the loathe bubbling inside you.

She understands the emotion better than no one so you don't need to open your mouth for her to know the kind of thoughts that are swirling in your mind.

"What do you need me to do?" Alcina was not going to pretend that nothing's happening but she decides to let you make the decisions of this situation.

Hoping to be comforting, because she doesn't know how are you going to take it, she cups the side of your neck with one hand, softly caressing your skin with with her thumb.

Alcina's voice and touch centers you back to the present. You look up at her. Her expression is stern, determinated, but her eyes look at you with softness and care.

You have keep her aware of the situation so her question doesn't surprise you. It does makes you ponder though.

You expect the sensation of exasperation followed by the resignation that you are used to with these kind of situations, knowing how worthless it is to dwell into a feud. But for the first time, you are washed with the desire of retaliation.

You want the person causing so many nuisances to your family to regret their actions. You are the type of person who believes in karma but you never know until when it could happen and you want the repercussions now.

You can't tell what Alcina sees in your eyes but hers darken as her lips curve in a smirk.

The words don't come out of your mouth after opening. Even when you want it, you have never done something like this, asked for someone's misery and even though your partner is someone who wouldn't judge you for it, all the opposite in fact, it's hard to voice it out loud.

Alcina notices it and helps you with it. "You want me to take care of it?"

You nod once, almost as if you were unsure. "Are you sure?" Alcina feels the need to ask, not because she doubts of your desires but because she needs you to be aware of what the outcome will be and doesn't want you to feel guilty for it.

The idea of the person going through life without any kind of regret, most likely even enjoying making you and your family miserable, makes your frown so this time you nod several times, pursing your lips with resolve. "Please."

Alcina place two fingers under your chin to lift your head just as she lowers down to brush your lips with hers as she smiles. "It will be my pleasure, draga."

You are in the library, pacing from side to side in an attempt to keep your anxiety from rising since trying to read to distract yourself hadn't worked.

Alcina has told you that she'll go with the girls to "take care of it" but you are not entirely sure what she meant with those words. Would they be gone for a while and when they came back would it be over?

Strangely, that idea disappoints you.

"Draga." You look at the direction where you hear her voice, watching her ducking through the door to step inside the room. "The girls are back with a very lovely present." She smirks knowingly, walking towards you. "I talked to them about the situation and I had to promise them a maiden for each so they didn't make justice with their own hands." She sits on the couch and makes a gesture for you to come to her, which you do instinctively, settling comfortably on her lap. "I stayed behind to prepare everything for my playtime."

You rest your head against hers when she buries her face in the crook of your neck. "So you are going to deal with this on your own?"

Alcina kisses your neck. "The girls love you, but they can't love you the way I do. And someone was stupid enough to upset you to the point you can't let go," she snarls, anger clear in her words. "This is personal for me."

You close your eyes, shivering at her fierce protectiveness. You shouldn't find it so alluring, but for a reason you two are meant to be.

For a few minutes, you enjoy each other's company in silence. Alcina using her hands to soothe you and you thanking her for it with kisses and nuzzles.

"I shall go now, draga." She kisses your head as she removes you from her lap, placing you next to her on the couch.

You pout but remain quiet, tempted to follow her while you watch her go but you force yourself to stay right where you are.

Alcina stops in front of the door but instead of ducking she turns around to address you once more time, tilting her head with curiosity. "Do you want to come with me?"

It is a delicate question because you know exactly what she's asking.

Despite you are not ignorant to what Alcina and the daughters do and you accept and love them just the same, they have never been interested in making you part of that aspect of their lives and you have never cared to witness it.

But as Alcina's words reach your ears, the sensation of disappointment that has filled you from the idea of missing something, disappears.

You nod softly, hurrying to stand up and make your way towards Alcina, reaching out to take her hand when she offers it to you to hold it.

You are aware of what's on the cellar but you have never been down there. Alcina has never directly tell you it was forbidden for you but telling you the truth about how dangerous it is has had more effect for you to never be interested to discover it on your own.

The moment you start to go down the stairs, the dreary sounds of the creatures fill your ears and you can't help but shudder in fear even when you know you are safe with Alcina.

Alcina lets your hand go when you reach the end of the stairs and while she keeps walking, you remain in place, looking around.

First thing you notice is that the corridor in front of you is the only thing illuminated but the light is so dimmed that you can't see clearly what's on the sides, though it's easy to imagine from the tortured moans and the sounds of nails clicking and scratching against metal.

It makes you wonder if the cellar always looks like this or if Alcina has planned, since the very first moment, to invite you to come with her.

"You!"

The familiar voice reminds you why are you here and you focus on the person that is in the middle of the corridor. They are chained from the ceiling by the wrists but they are not hanging (though their arms are raised) since there's a stool under their feet.

You remain silent, observing with curiosity more than anything else. Fascinated by the fact there's no a single trace of their haughty expression that normally makes you frown. They look afraid and vulnerable. Just the way they've make your family feel for so many months.

"You gotta help me!"

Those words are enough to turn things around and you are filled with wrath. How dare they, after everything they have done, to request that from you?

"What do you plan to do, my love?" Alcina purrs.

Briefly, you feel puzzled because Alcina only uses romanian for terms of endearment. But when you noticed the mischievousness pouring of every single one of her pores and the shocked expression of your adversary, you get it.

She wants them to know this is your doing. That if they are going through this, it's because of you.

It gives you a pleasing sensation of power.

Alcina hasn't taken her eyes from you the moment you reached downstairs, wanting to make sure that this isn't too much for you.

Her invitation hasn't been with the intention to force you to do things you weren't ready nor wanted to do but because she believes a closure is going to help you to move on, and she'll make sure that there's going to be a definitive closure in this day.

She has noticed your anger. The way your features twist with the emotion and how your hands turn into fists, clenching them until your knuckles turn white.

And she understands it better than anyone, the need to blow off steam and even though it's thrilling to see it on you, she doesn't think you are ready (at least not yet) to physically do something about it. Reason why she'll be your weapon. But she wants to make clear, even to yourself, that you are the puppetmaster in this situation.

There's no hesitation when you start to walk into Alcina's direction. The silence breaking by the angry shouts of the person who apparently hasn't grasp the gravity of their situation.

But they will discover it soon. Soon they'll regret every single thing they have done to your family.

"Can you shut them up?" You look at them nonchalantly before looking back at Alcina. "I mean ... not entirely, just lower their volume. You know I'm not fond of loud sounds."

You focus back on them, almost smiling when you see their eyes widening in fear before frowning angrily. "You are a crazy bit-"

The sound of a smack startles you due to the unexpectancy, but you feel excitement when you see their head turned to the side with the impact.

"You should learn, and fast if you know what's good for you, that we couldn't care less about what you have to say." Alcina growls angrily.

Gods. The things that tone does to you.

Alcina softens when she turns to look at you, smiling like a shark. "Absolutely, draga mea," she answers your question.

She hugs her torso with one arm, placing the elbow of the other arm on the hand that rests on her ribcage, extending her claws just the necessary as she steps in front of them.

Knowing what's coming to them, they move away from Alcina, only achieving to lose their stand on the stool, which falls onto the ground when they hang from the chain, kicking around unwillingly.

"Now now, why do you even try? You know it's impossible for you to escape your fate." She holds them by the throat to still them since you have moved closer to retrieve the stool back to its place.

Alcina thanks you by caressing your jaw, using the hand with the claws out. But you only feel the fingertips making contact with your face; the claws, even when you can almost feel the sharpness, don't make any contact with you because you are not the person Alcina wants to harm.

You step back once they are back on the stool, not taking your eyes away from them so you end up hitting one of the metal tables, in which you decide to hop on to witness what will happen.

There are tears in their eyes when Alcina pulls their head back by the hair. "Plea...se," their voice cracks. "Let me go."

Alcina just smirks. "I suggest you to remain as still as possible if you don't want the pain to increase."

It's macabre. And it fascinates you. The screams are deafening when Alcina pushes one of her claws into their throat but as she carefully twists it, the volume decreases slowly.

Despite your stomach churns at the sight of it, you watch, mesmerized, the blood sliding down through their throat.

Once she's done with the task, Alcina looks at you. "Better now?" She retracts her claws.

You nod with a smile, no longer feeling the desire to cover your ears.

Alcina releases her grip on their hair and walks towards you, their head immediately hanging down, their body shacking up with sobs.

When she reaches you, Alcina holds your face in her hands to lift it up at the time she lowers down to kiss you enthusiastically.

It makes you gasp but you are not surprised by her reaction. She's sharing one of her favorite things to do with the person she loves without receiving a negative reaction.

"What else do you want me to do, draga?"

You look at the person who created a hell in your life with contemplation, expecting to feel pity for them or guilt for what you have just done; at the very least, a sensation of fulfillment since they have receive a punishment you might consider fair. But you only feel a fire inside you asking for more.

"Show me," your eyes move back to Alcina. "Show me what you do to the people who provoke you. Show me how you make them regret it before removing them entirely from this world."

Alcina's eyes darken even further and her nostrils widen as she breathes deeply. She's turned on, and for a moment she considers jumping on you and ravishing you right there. But despite your favorable reaction, she knows it would be too much for you.

She resigns but kisses you. "Come with me, then. You need to be close to admire the beauty of it."

You don't hesitate to take her hand. You never do. You'll follow her anywhere because being with her makes you happy.

When everything's over, Alcina refuses to eat the body but tells the girls they can do it and if they don't want to, to dispose of it entirely. For the way they smile, you know they are not going to waste the meal but it only amuses you.

You two go to her chambers to take a bath, the water turning slightly red after washing the blood away from your bodies.

At some point during the incident, Alcina had sat you on her lap, placing your hands on hers while she worked, making you feel like you were the one doing it and that's how you ended up covered in blood too.

She's caressing your hair tenderly and peppering kisses on your neck and shoulders with so much care that brings tears to your eyes.

"Are you okay, draga?" she asks when she hears your sniffing.

You nod sincerely. After a beat, you speak what has been on your mind. "I enjoyed doing this with you," you whisper.

Alcina takes a moment to answer, trying to discover from your tone if you regret it and feel guilty. "Does that worries you?"

You shrug. "Not really. I have always believed a person is capable of coming in touch with their darkness if they face a situation that throws them over the edge."

Alcina chuckles. "Well, then let me tell you I also enjoyed doing this with you. I'm more than willing to repeat it if someone else dares to mess with you again."

You turn around to look at her, your heart fluttering happily when you see her smiling. Thanks to her you finally feel the peace they had stolen from you.

"I love you, Alcina." You straddle her to move closer to her and hug her tightly, kissing her slowly.

Alcina strokes your back with one hand, making you shiver pleasantly. "I love you too, draga." She rests her forehead against yours after breaking the kiss. "Now, what do you think about doing that other thing we enjoy to do together?"

You giggle, kissing her again. "It will be my pleasure, my Lady."

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #sometimes you just need your tol wife to deal with the issue once and for all so you no longer have to worry about things #hd.txt #hdad.txt #txt: ad

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