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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words: 3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again.

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad.

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said.

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under.

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you.

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully.

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks.

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow.

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest.

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible.

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth.

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there.

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date.

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it.

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.”

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers.

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower.

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese.

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you.

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you.

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away.

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb.

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off.

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull.

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly.

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him.

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile.

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer.

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured.

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness.

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea.

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg.

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later.

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times.

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one.

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true.

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later.

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after.

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices.

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list.

flowers

chocolate

card

stuffed animal

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner.

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before.

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon.

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted.

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching.

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague.

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you.

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion.

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy.

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again.

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster.

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session.

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy.

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out.

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide.

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging.

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back.

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed.

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.”

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

416 notes · View notes

luimagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms.

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you.

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.”

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #is this readers origin story #maybe?#i got a little carried away with this one #had to stop myself before i went even further beyond #i don't know if I want to continue with this as a story or just throw out some headcanons with modern reader #i like to think that everything i write takes place in a separate universe #especially the ones where they catch feelings #might throw out what they think of reader #might not #depends on you guys!#let me know what you think!

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years

Text

Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jealous!geralt #request #fanfic #fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #jaskier

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yourlocallovesickie · 3 years

Note

dk if you still take requests for the beatles so apologies in advance but could you write something about maybe george coming down with a bug or something and being all bloated and achy and the others are trying to take care of him (could be poly or platonic, don't really mind)? if you want to of course 👉👈

Sorry this took a while, I went a bit overboard haha. Love me some sick George. Anyways, enjoy!

George had always tried not to be the weakest link in the group, especially because he was already younger than the others. But occasionally he would push off his own well-being to not be seen as the baby, especially on tour. The low hours of sleep followed by exhausting concert to exhausting concert and the tedious travel between them, afterparties, normal parties, interview, etc, etc . .

Needless to say they were all drained, so of course George paid no mind when he woke up from his 3 hours of sleep feeling tired and achy, his mind clouded and pounding, and stomach swirling. He'd often get stomach aches from stress and anxiety, so he popped a tylenol of five and headed to breakfast.

The others were all gathered around the small hotel table sluggishly eating their breakfast and sipping their coffee. Even Paul looked tired, and that man could wake up every morning at 5 am sharp with a smile on his face. Ringo and the aformentioned morningbird waved at George when he entered, John face down next to a half-empty box of cornflakes, which Ringo passed over to him as he sat down. The idea of eating food made his stomach gurgle angrily, and a sense of nausea began creeping up on him. He must just be hungry. He forced down a few bites of cereal before pushing it away, the others too occupied with keeping their eyes open to notice his lack of appetite, or how he lagged even farther behind the others as they prepared for the day's events.It wasn’t until they were in the car on the way to their first soundcheck/rehearsal, the other three keeping up a quiet conversation as George leaned against the cool window, arms crossed over his stomach and eyes closed, willing the nausea away that they noticed anything.

“‘Ey George, I know you’re the quiet Beatle but you’re allowed to talk y’know,” John quipped. Responding seemed like too much work, so George sat still.

“Is he asleep?” Paul muttered, tapping the younger man lightly. With a groan and an uncomfortable burble from his stomach, George swatted Paul’s hand away, recieving cheers from the others.

“There he is! Up ‘n at ‘em Georgie boy!” There was a playful thwak at his side that only made him groan again, curling over on himself.

“We know you’re tired, but let’s all at least suffer together shall we?” John and Paul shared a laugh, and George could feel a warm hand press up against his cheek, cold metal rings making him pull away slightly as they made contact. the hand hovered by his cheek for a moment, George leaning into it before the hand retreated up to his forehead. The laughter from the other two died down, and George could see their lightly concerned stares on him even with his eyes closed. The hand retreated once more, brushing his bangs to the side.

“You feeling alright, Georgie?” Even opening his eyes to look up at the other seemed too much of a challenge. He shook his head and could immediately hear the others scoot up to get a look at him. He feels two other hands pressed against his cheeks and forehead, one playfully ruffling his hair as the other three Beatles mumble words his fevered brain couldn’t put together.

“I think we should go back to the hotel, he feels pretty warm,” Paul fretted, pressing his hand against the back of George’s neck again to be sure.

“Brain’ll kill us if we cancel this close to performance.”

“Better we cancel now than right before the show when he passes out.” With a nod of agreement the three stayed close to George throughout the remainder of the car ride, the sick man nodding off against the window until he was rudely awakened by a sudden knot in his stomach. As his muddled mind struggled to wake up more he realized how nauseous and bloated he felt; like getting seasick right after dinner. The movement of the car only made him feel worse, and soon enough he had slurred something along the lines of “pull over” before throwing open the door and learning out just in time for a round of the cornflakes he’d choked down earlier to reappear, splattering onto the side of the road. His stomach twisted in agony, and even after a few more very productive, milky burps and retches a cloud of nausea continued to hang over him. At some point someone had started rubing his back, probably Paul; he could feel his delicate fingers slowly tracing patterns down his spine.

“As rounds 2, 3, and 4 made their appearance and Paul helped keep George upright and inside the car, and Jon was turned away from them both for fear he may add his own breakfast to the concoction, Ringo turned to the driver and order they be taken back to the hotel. They were a little over halfway to the studio but they figured the less movement for George the better. After they were sure he was finished for the time being they started the journey back, every turn and bump in the road eliciting a small noise of discomfort as his stomach cramped and roiled. Every time he blinked it took more and more effort to open his eyes again until finally he opened them see to see the hotel they were staying at and a surprisingly few amount of fans crowding outside, theiri screams getting increasingly louder as the car pulled up. George doesn’t think he’d ever been so relieved to see an American hotel.

Getting into the hotel posed a slight challenge, though. The second he stood up he was bent in half as another albeit smaller wave of vomit splashed up onto the sidewalk. He would have fallen into it had Paul not grabbed him once more, the others trying to sheild from fans and swarming paparazzi without being hit. The world seemed to spin and the crowd’s screams were so loud he felt like his head might explode. He closed his eyes to try and shut out the screaming and the flashing lights and the pain that they brought, and when he opened them again they were inside, half-walking half-dragging George up to their shared suite. He could still hear the screams, but they were so muffled he wasn’t sure whether they were still coming from outside or in his own head. His stomach cramped and gurgled, and George slouched over, both arms wrapped across it protectively.

"You alright there, Georgie?" John asked, and though there was no condescending note to his tone George still found himself huffing at the pity. 'I'm being childish', he thought, and with an arm still guarding his stomach he stood straight and walked slightly ahead of the others, dragging them back to their room before delicately hanging up his coat, toeing off his shoes, and slamming the bathroom door with a quick retch.

"Should I go check on him?" Paul asked, already gripping the doorknob and letting himself in. The sight nearly broke his heart. His band mate, best friend, and basically younger brother was curled over the side of the toilet, his back sweat-soaked and heaving as he gagged and struggled. There was a small puddle of bile by his feet and a spot or two on his shirt where he hadn't made it, and Paul immediately grabbed the towel by the sink and set it over the puddle, resting a comforting hand on George's back. A few minutes passed of the younger Beatle gasping and choking up his partially digested breakfast before John and Ringo joined them, and eventually they all led George out to a spot on the couch with a bowl at his feet and blankets surrounding him. Ringo slipped a thermometer in his mouth, just barely dodging the bout of sick that bubbled up with the gag the thermometer drew out.

"Ugh.. Sorry," he groaned, one hand wrapped over his stomach which twisted and contorted inside him, desperately trying to get whatever was inside him out. The other was supporting his weight, shakily braced on the arm of the couch as John held the bowl under his dripping chin. Ringo slipped the thermometer back under his tongue.

"You're alright," he responded, and George groaned as the vile was removed. "That's a fever."

"Dammit."

"Looks like no concert tonight, then," Paul said, receiving a cheer from John.

"Thank god! Finally a break. Thank you, George." The younger man sank down in his seat, and the others shook their heads. "What? I'm grateful!" With a sigh, Paul sank down beside him.

"What John means is no one is upset with you, Georgie. This happens, and really I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did." George nodded, and still curled in his little ball leaned into Paul, the others joining in as well. His stomach hurt, his entire body ached, but maybe with the others by his side this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

#the beatles #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #sickfic #stomach ache #emetophilia #vomiting #emeto

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9layerdevilfoodcake · 3 years

Text

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)

#Michael langdon x reader #Michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #far too much sarcasm

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shigarakis-fifth-hand · 4 years

Text

Shigaraki x Reader Request

Anonymous:

So I love your writing and I'm not sure if you've already done it before but I just wanted to ask if you could maybe do a shig x F! Reader scenario where she is on an important call, but Shiggy's all horny and starts feeling her up, maybe even goes as far as actually stuffing her, but she can't put the phone down cause it's a very important call with a very important client or smth like that heh I'm sorry the thirst for the crusty boy is so real rn 😩

Shigaraki Tomura, one of the greatest known villains of all time. It wasn’t that he was extremely powerful, or intelligent, but he had enough common sense to assemble some of the more... interesting people to join his League and make it as powerful as it was today. You though, you were the best out of all of them.

Your quirk was simple, you simply couldn’t get hurt. Like your classmate Kirishima Eijiro, your skin was your weapon. But unlike him, the effects of your quirk never went away. Simply, you couldn’t be cut, scratched, or punched. You felt no pain in the areas where you focused your quirk, and your skin couldn’t be destroyed.

Sure, you were a lot like Kirishima, including your bubbly personality and need to always improve your strength, but you had a big secret. You were the fiancé to Tomura Shigaraki, or Tenko Shigaraki he had eventually told you. You remembered the day he had proposed to you. It was when he got back from fighting UA at the Summer Camp.

He had “kidnapped you” just so he could get you alone for a few days, and ended up having you run away and act like you had “escaped”. During those days, he was more romantic, sweet, and loving than usual. Tenko loved pda, and refused to let you get up from the couch for days at a time.

When the heroes were close, he gave you the ring, which you put a string on and put it on your neck to be hidden by your shirt, and then ran out into the road, pretending to be passed out for the heroes to find you.

Lucky for you, it was Summer Break, and you were allowed to spend all the time with Shiggy that you wanted without the hassle of trying to keep such a secret. You also spent that time doing hero work, hanging out with your friendly classmates, and of course arranging things with your mentor Fat Gum, and your two best friends/ partners Tamaki and Kiri.

At the moment, it was noon on a Saturday, and you were sitting in the League’s living room watching tv, waiting for a call from Fat Gum to talk about starting working with Kiri and Tamaki during the week. Even though Fat Gum thought of you like his daughter, he was a big deal to you still, and this phone call meant a lot to you even though a lot wasn’t on the line.

Plus it was perfect for the call, with the League out on a mission, and you alone with the entire place quiet. Shiggy would be back tonight for a dinner date, and today would go smoothly. As you thought about your sweet boyfriend and hoped that he was okay, your phone began to ring. Picking it up, you heard the friendly voice of your mentor.

“Ahh, Y/n! Great being able to talk to you! We have Kirishima and Tamaki on the call as well!” Fat gum exclaimed joyfully as you heard greetings from your two guy besties. “Hey Y/n!” They called out in sync, Tamaki’s voice barely hearable. “Hey guys, I-” You stopped, hearing the sounds of the door becoming unlocked. What? They weren’t supposed to be home for another few hours!!

You got off the couch and ran upstairs to the room that you and Shiggy shared, closing it and sitting against it angrily. “Y/n, you good?” Fat gum asked as you responded with a happy hum, doing your best to be discreet as you heard your name being murmured around the League’s apartment. What that Shigaraki??? Oh no no no...

“Good, now here’s what I’m thinking...” As Fat Gum began trailing on and on, you opened the door to see a tired, worn-out Shigaraki. Feeling your heart be filled with pity, you signaled that you were on the phone, opened the door, and let him in. He walked towards you, pressed himself against your small frame, and kissed your forehead. “Aww, rough day baby?”

You asked, cupping his face in your soft hands as he nodded, pulling you close to hug. He began to rest his chin on your head as you continued the call. “I’m free all day, but on Wednesday I won’t be able to go to Sakura Street because I need to take my sister to her swim practice.” Kirishima explained as you piped in, trying to catch up in the conversation.

“I can do it for you!” You exclaimed, before Shigaraki began kissing your neck tenderly, letting his hands grip your ass and waist tightly like he usually did. “What t-time do you need?” You tried not to stutter as he pushed your body against him, letting his knee rub against your entrance like he did when he was horny for you. Oh god... not now Shiggy baby.

“Awesome! I just need you to cover Sakura street between three and four pm. Could you do that? You just need to walk down, and check that one alleyway that we were talking about because...” As Kirishima rambled on, Shigaraki kissed your lips passionately, beginning to push you up against the bed and bend you over slowly.

Biting your lip and mumbling any sounds you could make, you brought the phone back to your ear and listened as the boys talked. “Well I’m not busy then so I can take your shift Y/n. What are you doing 3 to 4?” Tamaki asked, as Shigaraki began to remove your pants. Shaking, you felt his hot breath on your body as you tried to carry on a conversation.

“Um, yea Tamaki...” Both of your shirts were now off, “Three to four?” Shigaraki slipped down his pants, revealing his boxer and large erection poking through, “I’m going to be... um...” Shigaraki slipped your panties down, and began fingering you, causing you to lose all control of your legs as you wrapped your legs around his torso to hold you up.

“I’m going to be patrolling the Green Bridge area, n-near the baseball stadium. Just on those three streets, and then I was planning on stopping by Deku’s mom’s place to move some of her furniture. Shigaraki smirked at you, rolling his eyes and beginning to move his boxers down to reveal his large cock, throbbing for you.

Swallowing nervously, you tried so hard to focus on the call as your fiancé moved you, positioning you and getting ready to stuff you full of him. “Okay! Sounds good kiddos!” You sighed happily at Fat Gum’s comment, hoping that this call would end so you could focus on Shiggy who was seconds away from fucking you senseless.

“So Tamaki, tell me about your weekend.” Kirishima exclaimed as Tamaki began speaking, endlessly mumbling about his plans and how excited he was to see you and Kiri. Before you could mentally prepare, Shiggy shoved his cock into you, letting you scream out in pain and such amazing pleasure. It was amazing, feeling your walls wrap around him and throb with him.

“Y/n?! Are you okay?!” Kirishima asked, letting you know that you had probably frightened the three guys on the other ends. “Oh! Yea! I just... saw a... bug!” Between breaths, Shigaraki pumped himself into you, one hand around your neck tightly, and the other around your waist.

“Oh, what did it look like?” Tamaki asked, and at that moment, you wanted to kill your best friend for making conversation. “It’s... big... and fuzzy. I’m going to go... kill it!” You squeezed the sheets beneath you, silently gasping as Shigaraki pounded into you, overstimulating you to the ends of the Earth, which you both loved.

“Love you guys! I’ll text you guys tonight in the group chat... when I’m... done! Bye!” Without hearing their responses, you hung up the call and threw your phone to the other side of the wall angrily. Shigaraki smashed his lips to yours as he pulled out, laying you on the bed, and climbing over you. “Good girl... such a good girl. You’re able to be a good hero, and still please the worst villain.” He bent down and kissed your forehead again, before beginning to just lay on you.

You ran your fingers through his curly hair as he rested his head against your plump chest, breathing slowly and trying to calm him down. “So... what happened?” You asked sweetly, almost swearing that he began purring. “Dabi had to save me from almost getting shot in the face.” You looked down at your boyfriend, your eyes wide and fearful.

The guy was behind me, and was about to shoot before Dabi burned him and made him miss. If Dabi wouldn’t have been there, he would have hit me right in the skull.” Shigaraki explained as you began giving him a scalp massage, causing him to move his head and close his eyes peacefully. Your touch always made him feel better, if not 100% happy again.

“I just... needed to feel your touch. If I die, I know my last thought is going to be of you.” Shigaraki confessed, sitting up and looking at you, his lips parted. Here he was, pouring his feelings out, something that he never did. “I... I love you so much Y/n.” Shigaraki leaned in, sitting you on his lap and beginning to kiss you, intertwining four of his fingers with yours. “I love you too Baby.”

Hun, I totally understand your thirst. Shiggy makes all my daddy issues come true in one microsecond. For a good month he was all that I could think about!! <333

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fluffymcu · 4 years

Text

The Date (Bucky x reader x Steve)

@il0veyoujk requested: Heyyyy, can you write a ff where Buck (your older bro) and Steve are back from a mission but you're not home and they somehow discover you're on a date and when you get back home they tickle you with tickles (mouth tickles mostly) to make you admit it and give them more details?? (If you don't want to it's okayyyy) Also your ACC is A-MA-ZING!! Keep going!!

Sure! This idea is cute! Ill try my best. This is ModernAU! Bucky and Steve. But they still kinda have the same 40’s past, but Bucky has short hair here and two fresh arms. Don’t get me wrong I love Bucky just the way he is but I felt like modernAU Bucky fit this fic better.

If you haven’t already, the second part to my Letting Loose series is out, but didn’t show up on tags and it’s not getting much love :( if you haven’t read it you might wanna check it out :)

——

Your boys were out on a mission for quite a few days now, and you...were on a date!

No you had not told them about it. Why? Because the were EXTREMELY overprotective! Especially your older brother, Bucky. He denied the accusation that he hated when you went on dates, but you knew deep down he would always not like it when you'd go out with someone. Steve was overp too, but it was really Bucky that would start the fire and Steve would ride along with just as much passion. So when a cute guy you'd met at a coffee shop yesterday asked you out, you said yes, deciding not to tell the boys. Besides, you didn't know how it would go; maybe it would just be a one time thing. They didn't need to know. And you definitely didn't need them bugging you the whole day, bombar you with questions about the guy and how he treated you and what kind of guy he was and so on.

So you just decided to leave it at that and keep it a subtle secret. You went to your room to go get ready in your shared apartment with Bucky and Steve, and put on some light makeup and picked your outfit. Once you were satis with your look, you grabbed your wallet, keys, and phone and drove out to meet Jackson at the new pizza joint a few blocks away.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky and Steve has come home from the mission early. Just your luck. They came home to an empty apartment and to be honest they were a bit confused.

"Y/n actually left the bed? Why would she be out, it's not like she has a life," Bucky said carelessly, looking around the apartment for you. Steve chortled and shrigge, partly agreeing with him. You hardly ever went out. You loved staying inside your room and the boys would often tease you about it. But you didn't know why they were complaining, they dont even like it that much when you go out. It makes them ""nervous"".

You were having a lot of fun on your date. Jackson was a pretty nice guy and definitely surprised you with his kind personality. You had expected him to be... well, you didn't know. But he really did surprise you. Back at home, Bucky thought to look on the Life360 app to see if he could know where you're at. His jaw dropped and He looked at Steve incredulously.

"This girl really just turned off her location!" Steve's brows furrowed as he stepped closer to him to grab the phone from him.

"What? Why would she do that?" Steve hummed. Bucky presses his lips in a fine line while looking at Steve with an unamused smirk, taking the phone back in his hands.

"Cause she's bein' sneaky, that's why. We're gonna find out what she's been doin when she gets home." Bucky sighs, taking a seat on the couch to wait for you. He sighs deeper and pulls out his phone again to text you.

Your laughing at one of Jackson's jokes when your phone buzzes. "Oh, excuse me this'll just take a second." You smile, taking out your phone. Your shocked at the text you receive.

Where are you?? And why is your location off?

You don't even realize you let out a loud breath until your date calls your attention. "Is everything alright?" You look up at him before softening your features and giving him a smile.

"Of course! Just my brother being annoying." You chuckled, texting back a quick reply before shoving your phone back in your pocket.

None of your business :))

Bucky gasped offended, growing more and more suspicious of what you were up to. For the next 20 minutes of your date, your phone was buzzing every 3 seconds, getting on your nerves. You inhale deeply, feeling bad that you had to cut Jackson off in the middle of his story. "I'm so sorry, I have to sort some things out in the bathroom. That sounded weird. No, I just have to take care of somethi- I have to use the bathroom!" You sighed, shaking your head and getting up. "I'll be right back." You leave after Jackson nods and smiles.

When you're in a bathroom stall, you get out your phone and roll your eyes and groan in annoy at all the texts your brother has been spamming you with.

None of my business?

It is my business

Answer me

I know you know I'm texting you. Answer the phone dummy 👁👅👁

Answer the phooone 🤪

I'm not gonna stop until you answerrrrrr

Helloooooo

Knock knock :)

Helloooo darling sister???

Where are youuuu?

“Ughhh.” You groan, texting him back before heading back out to your date.

Stop being annoying!! It’s not healthy ;)

———

The date went well, until your brother decide to annoy the crap out of you, but overall, you really liked Jackson. You thanked him for the date and made your way home. You really didn’t want the date to end, because you were now dreading coming home, knowing you were going to be interrogated to death.

You prayed to god as you got closer to your floor that the boys were in their room so the you could slip in and sneak into your room with out being seen. But as fate would have it, they were waiting for you right in the open living room. You rolled your eyes and stepped into the apartment, setting your bag on the floor. Bucky and Steve immediately stood from the couch and put their hands on their hips in synch. “Where were you?” Bucky asked with a brow raised, looking you up and down noting you were pretty dressed up. The date had been pretty casual, but it was obvious that you put a little more effort than you usually put for doing random errands. You stayed there for a moment, standing there and feigning innocence before booking it to your bedroom. “Hey!” Bucky yelled, quickly running after you and catching you before you got to your bedroom.

He scooped you up quickly and dropped you on the couch, ignoring your weak threats and protests. He quickly straddled your waist to prevent you from escaping and Steve stepped closer to tower over the both of you. “Get off me!!” You spat, pushing at Bucky’s chest and punching his knees to get him off you.

“Tell us where you were.” Bucky said, brushing off your punches.

“Get OFF!!! I’m not telling you, it’s none. Of. Your. Business!” You growled, grabbing at Steve’s jeans to use him to crawl out from underneath your brother. Steve pulled away briefly to stop you and looked at you expectantly.

“Tell us where you’ve been, y/n.” Steve hummed. You pursed your lips and shook your head stubbornly. You were and adult and you could do your own things without them knowing about every little aspect in your life.

“I don’t need to tell you anything!” You yelled, pushing harshly at Bucky’s chest again. Bucky smirked and tased your side to warn you about what was about to go down. You flinched harshly and slapped at his shoulder, eliciting another squeeze at your side. You snorted, not wanting to give him the satisfaction but not being able to contain your laughter either. Bucky’s smirk grew as he began to pinch at your sides and ribs sporadically, making your laughter bubble up. “Quihihit it you jeheheherk!” You whined, failing at protecting yourself.

“Tell us where you went then, y/n!” He chuckled, keeping up his antics, using a hand to scribble into your belly. You couldn’t help the squeal that left your mouth as you turned side to side to try to distract yourself from the torturous feeling. Steve smirked and sat in the couch, next to your head and looked at you mischievously. “Still not gonna break?” He asked, grabbing your wrists in one hand and scratching lightly into your armpits. You shrieked at the feeling, pulling desperately at your arms and letting out loud belly laughter.

“STOHOHOHOP IHIHIT! IHIHIM NOT TELLING!” You yelled, cackling when Steve started moving his fingers faster.

“So stubborn. And ticklish.” Bucky hummed, lifting up your shirt and blowing a long raspberry on your belly, making sure to rub his stubble in it. You shriek, kicking your legs out, your stomach cramping a bit from all the laughter. Steve chuckled at your reaction and started fluttering his fingers under your chin and around your neck. It was hard to protect your neck because your arms were held above your head, so you had to just lay there and laugh it out. “She can never stand raspberries.” Steve chuckled fondly, laughing when you try to crane your neck down to bite him.

“She really can’t!” Bucky laughed, blowing another one right above your belly button to prove their point. “Now, think you’re ready to tell us where you went y/n? Or you wanna take some more?” He chuckled, giving you a break to breathe. Steve let your arms go for the moment and you panted, letting out residual giggles.

“Nohoho! I don’t have to tell you every little thing about my lihihife!” You whined, grabbing his hands to keep them at bay. Bucky tsk’ed and and shook his head at you before suddenly gasping.

“Did you go on a date?!” He asked, looking at Steve, his expression changing as well when he began to think about it.

You hesitated a bit before replying, giving it away instantly. “Nooo!”

“You did! You so did!” Bucky sang, starting you tickle you again, shaking into your ribs. You fell back in a fit of loud laughter and you shook your head side to side. Steve scoffed, still surprised at the discovery and stood up to sit at the opposite side, near your feet. “Tell us who he was! Where did you go!!” Bucky yelled, rubbing his beard up your side, all the way up to your ribs before nibbling on the skin. You let out an inhuman scream and began to push at his shoulders, but he wouldn’t move much. You went limp when you felt someone grab your feet in a headlock and start scribbling their fingers on your soles. Steve turned to look at you with a smirk and continued to torture you.

“It’s not hard, y/n, all you have to do is tell us where you’ve been and who’d you go with.” Steve sang, scribbling is fingers under your toes. It was no use trying to kick your feet out, you knew you weren’t getting out. Bucky decided to blow several tiny raspberries along your ribs and sides, switching over to the other side and doing the same.

“I HAHAHAHATE YOHOHOU!” You cackled, pulling at his hair. Bucky laughed and growled loudly before nestling his stubble in the crook of your neck and making nomming noises, just like he always used to do when you were younger. You let out a bunch of squeaky laughter, making Bucky chuckle.

“But you loved when I would tickle you!” He teased, mumbling into your neck. Your laughter was getting hoarse and with Steve spidering his fingers up to the spot behind you knees, and pinching your lower thighs, you knew you’d go insane if they didn’t stop soon.

“GUHUHUHUYS! STOHOHOP IT I MEHEHEAN IT!!” You squealed, kicking your legs out as much as you could. Steve chortled and stood up, motioning for Bucky to scoot over. Bucky stood up and you made your way to roll off the couch but Steve only took Bucky’s spot, straddling you and digging his fingers into your hips. You arched your back and let out a long squeal before bursting into hysterics, pushing at his hands. You were so desperate, that you actually looked to your brother for help, as if he was gonna help you. “BUHUHUHUCKY MAKE HIM STOHOHOHOP!”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other and laughed, Bucky shaking his head. “Geez, you’re tough to crack today! This must be some pretty interesting stuff that you wanna keep hidden from us... don’t worry though, we’ll get it outta ya eventually. We can stay here all night if we have to.” He sang, smirking when you shook your head at him.

“NOHOHO PLEHEHEASE! ILL TELL YOHOHOU!” You cried, knowing that they really weren’t going to stop until you told them. Also it was to the point where you couldn’t stand another second of this. You had to give in at some point. The boys cheered and got off of you, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath. “Gohohod. You guys ahahalmost killed me!” You yelled exhaustedly, sitting up a bit and holding your stomach. The boys looked at you with smirks and only shrugged.

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, tell us about the date. Was it a date?” Bucky asked. You sighed, rolling your eyes before telling them about Jackson and the date, and where you’d met him.

——

“He’s not good enough for you.” Bucky grounded. You sucked your teeth and groaned.

“You say that about every guy! No one is gonna be good enough for you. You’d be happy with me just being single my whole life!”

“Exactly! No one deserves you!”

“Ughhh!”

“Bucky’s right! I mean, he didn’t even walk you home or anything. Did he buy you flowers? Did he come to pick you up? He’s not a true gentleman!” Steve exclaimed, Bucky nodding and agreeing with him.

“Guys! This isn’t the 40’s anymore! You know things are different. Even dates. I have my own car now. We just meet at the place and have our date. It’s not as... I don’t know it’s just not the same as the 40’s.” You sighed.

“Yeah, because romance and chivalry has been dying recently. Dates used to be so special and meaningful. Now it’s all just casual and no one even appreciates the quality of a good date anymore.” Bucky says, putting his hands in his hips. You sigh, looking away. Yes, that was true, but there was nothing you could do about it. Things change, sometimes even the best things. But the key was to adapt. And it was always easier for you to adapt to the modern world than it was for the boys. They had made many improvements, but they still had a few habits that stick with them to this day.

You just had to accept the fact that Bucky and Steve would always be protective of you no matter what, especially if it included dating. “Okay, you guys are right. Whatever. Can we just call it a night?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Bucky rolled his eyes before nodding, offering a hand to help you off the couch. When you stood up, he pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight dummyhead.” He smiled. You clenched you’re jaw and punched him lightly on the arm.

“Night, jerk.” You spat, giving Steve a hug and kiss as well before crashing on your bed and knocking out.

#ticklish!reader #tickle #tickle fight #avengers tickle #marvel tickle #tickle fluff #bucky tickles reader #steve tickles reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #captain america #steve rogers

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theluckiestwitchathogwarts · 3 years

Text

Winter Love

HELLO hi @coffeecomicsgalore this is my @mlsecretsanta fic for you! I had so much fun writing this one, happy holidays! Massive thank you to @adrienettes-hamster for beta-ing!

Also on FFnet and AO3!

Mid-November is when the chill of the impending winter started to set in. Not cold enough for snow, but cold enough that Ladybug had begun to notice her kitty shivering while on patrols. Granted, she was quite cold herself, but she was handling it better than Chat Noir.

“Do you need to stop, Chat?”

“No, I’m fine,” he stuttered out between chattering teeth.

“Chat, go home and get warm. We can patrol again tomorrow night.” Her voice was soft but commanding, and his ears drooped. “I’ll bring some hot chocolate, okay?” His ears perked up a bit at the mention of that.

“Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied with a small smile, turning and bounding away with his staff.

She watched him for a moment before turning herself, luckily only needing to travel a few blocks to her own home. The dull light of the lamp she had left on before heading out cut into the darkness. It was still relatively early in the night, only around 9 o’ clock, but she knew that her parents would already be in bed, ready for next morning’s early rise.

Marinette landed on her balcony and hopped down through the skylight onto her bed before calling off her transformation. When Tikki swirled out of the earrings and into her hands, she was also shivering.

“Yeah, it is a bit too cold tonight,” Marinette mumbled to her as she cupped her hands around her kwami. “Let me grab us some hot chocolate, okay?” Tikki nodded, her little head bobbing up and down as vigorously as Chat’s jaw was. Marinette gently slid her onto her pillow then climbed down the ladder to the rest of her room, then the ladder to the rest of the apartment. Finding her favourite mug clean and ready to be used, she ducked down and grabbed the teacup she had hidden for Tikki. It was almost matching with her favourite design, covered with florals over a white background, and it had belonged to one of the dolls from her childhood doll house.

Marinette hummed while she filled the mugs with the still-steaming hot chocolate from the flask her mother had left out for her. She wondered whether or not it would snow soon, and if it would shut the school down. Would the snow mean Hawkmoth would slow down on attacks? Or would he send out more akumas?

She wondered about her friends. Alya would probably spend most of the time babysitting her sisters, Marinette by her side of course. Nora might be home for the winter. Nino would probably be glued to his computer, creating new tracks and networking with other DJs. Adrien…

Adrien would keep up his studies with Nathalie. Marinette knew how tough his dad was on him based on how detailed his schedule was. Mandarin lessons, fencing, piano, modelling and school? And she thought she was busy between school, sewing and saving Paris. Then again, saving Paris was never on a set schedule. She supposed she and Adrien weren’t too different in that aspect.

Adrien had been shivering a bit in class recently. While everyone else bundled up in their warmest sweaters and thermals, Adrien’s outfits didn’t seem to hold the same temperature. Did Gabriel favour style over comfort? The very thought burned Marinette.

She stopped pouring as she realised it was about to overflow her mug, and set the flask down with a hardened resolve. This Christmas, she was going to knit something warm for her two favourite people. The gears in her mind began ticking over as she thought of what to give each of them. She still had Adrien’s head measurements from when she created the hat for the contest a year or two back, and his body’s measurements from the designs she had made for her website... maybe a sweater? Or a beanie?

She didn’t have Chat’s measurements though. She supposed if she worked hard and fast enough she might be able to squeeze in a blanket. Now she had to think of patterns for both...

Marinette made her way back up to her room, carefully balancing the mugs in one hand as she pushed the trap door up then set them down on the floor to climb inside.

“Tikki?” She called out gently. “Hot chocolate has arrived.”

She set them down on the bench by her computer as she opened up her sketchbook. Knowing it would take longer, she began working on the blanket’s design, but stopped short as she realised that while she knew her partner, she didn’t really know him. She vaguely remembered his favourite colour was green, and funnily enough was a cat person, both literally and figuratively. Marinette began to worry that what she makes wouldn’t be good enough for him, or that he wouldn’t like it.

“What are you working on, Marinette?” Tikki asked sleepily while sipping her hot chocolate.

“Both Adrien and Chat Noir haven’t been dealing with the cold well, so I figured I’d knit them both something warm for Christmas,” Marinette replied as she began writing in some notes. Tikki peered over the book and looked back at Marinette.

“A blanket? Will you have time to make that? Christmas is only a month away.”

“I know, but I figured if I work on it in all of my spare time then I might be able to get it done in time. Hopefully there’s a few snow days in the next few weeks,” Marinette said as she glanced out the window. The window stubbornly continued to show no sign of snow, though there was the twinkling of stars between the clouds.

Tikki took another sip of her drink. “Who’s the blanket for?”

“Chat Noir. I have Adrien’s measurements, so I was thinking either a beanie or a sweater, but I’m not sure of Chat’s. What do you think?” Marinette picked up a green pencil and began to shade in the sketch. In each corner there was a small, blocky cat face with light whiskers.

“He does tend to wear that short sleeved top a lot. I think sweater.”

Marinette hummed and nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right. What about the middle of this?” She held the page up to Tikki, who had ditched the now empty cup and was snuggled into her neck. “I was thinking maybe the initials C.N. but that might be too obvious.”

“What about a Yin Yang symbol, but a ladybug as the white dot and whiskers on the black dot?”

“Tikki, you’re a genius!”

And so Marinette got to work, having most of the yarn colours she required already. Quite a few rows in, she started to nod off and, seeing that it was now well past her bedtime, climbed the ladder to her bed and whispered goodnight to Tikki.

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

“That’s… a lot of yarn, Marinette,” Alya said with mild concern. “You surely haven’t gotten this low by now?

Marinette shrugged, or at least shrugged the best she could with her arms piled up with rolls of yarn. “I’ve got a few commissions and wanted to be sure. I can use what’s left to make some gifts as well.”

Marinette had dragged Alya on a shopping trip for materials after school the next day. She had some pocket money saved up from chores and her birthday. Half an hour later, they emerged from the fabric store with a lot of yarn and some new shearing scissors, an early gift from Alya.

“Ooh, who’s commissioned you? It must be a big project!”

Marinette almost stumbled, unsure if she should tell Alya, even if she did have the perfect cover up for it. But then again, she knew her best friend.

“Uh, Ladybug commissioned a blanket as a gift for Chat Noir. Apparently they’re having a tough time on their night patrols with the chill.”

Alya’s eyes bugged out of her head and she squealed, “Oh my god, that is so cute! She’s totally in love with him!”

This time Marinette did really stop. “No way! She did not give off that vibe at all when she came around! It’s just really cold at night!”

“Babe, you don’t just commission a whole BLANKET for your friend!” Alya shook her by her shoulders, a few rolls threatening to fall out of Marinette’s arms, who gasped a loud “careful!”

“They’re friends, Alya, and friends can share a blanket when it’s cold. Can we please drop it?”

Alya huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sure, but you know I’m right!”

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

Later that night, Marinette was zooming through rows of knitting on her balcony. She barely stopped for a few bites of the dinner that her mother had brought up earlier. When her hands began cramping, she turned back to her sketchbook to work on the design for Adrien’s sweater. She figured it best to keep it simple, and made it light green in shade with darker green and black accents. When the cramping had lessened, she picked up the needles again and started knitting furiously again.

Around 8 o’ clock, Tikki nudged her and reminded her that she needs to meet up with Chat Noir. Marinette thanked her and transformed, grabbed the bag of treats she had snuck up earlier, then leapt off the balcony with her yoyo flying off into the distance.

She found Chat Noir on their rooftop an arrondissement away, huddled next to the chimney for warmth.

“Chaton, look what I brought!”

His ears perked up and his lips curved into a wide smile. “That doesn’t just smell like hot chocolate, m’lady. Is that…” his eyes lit up as she lifted the Dupain-Cheng bakery box out of the bag after the flasks, “croissants? And macarons?”

She matched his smile and replied, “all of the above, plus pain au chocolat. Only the best for the cat hero of Paris!” She had to set down the box quickly as he crushed her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around him as well, happy that he was happy. She didn’t miss his murmur of “what did I do to deserve you?” and simply hugged him tighter, almost shielding him from the cool wind. He let go after a few more moments, diving for the flask of hot chocolate and sitting against the chimney.

“Half hour of snacking before we make the rounds?”

“Works for me,” Chat Noir replied in between sips, visibly settling down as the drink warmed him up from the inside. “How did you get the Dupain-Cheng goods? Aren’t they closed by now?”

“They are, but I picked them up just before they closed for the day, so they’re pretty fresh.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, she did get them from the last batch her father made for the day.

Chat Noir hummed as he bit into a macaron, savouring the taste. “They are the best in town, no competition.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Ladybug took this moment of comfortable silence to take the top off of her flask and have a long drink of her hot chocolate. They sat together, shoulder to shoulder against the chimney and the wind started to settle down.

The sun had well and truly set by now, the moon as bright as ever with the stars shining like the streetlights below them. Tonight, there were no clouds, and nothing above them but the open sky. Ladybug loved the sight, and found it to be the second best perk of being a superhero, the first being partnered with Chat Noir. Her friend, Chat Noir, she thought, thinking back to Alya’s words earlier in the day. She was in love with Adrien and absolutely, definitely, totally had no such feelings for Chat Noir.

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

Marinette was exhausted, to say the least.

It was now the beginning of December, and the blanket was just over half done. She had resorted to bringing in her spare needles and knitting before and after class to start on Adrien’s sweater, and ignored anyone and everyone that asked about it with a small blush.

She also resorted to ignoring any pressing by Alya on Ladybug’s “commission” of the blanket, which had not died out as time had gone on. Alya wanted to know everything from the words Ladybug said to her expression and body language as she spoke about Chat Noir. Marinette now highly regretted giving in and telling her anything.

Thinking of the blanket, she thought about the surprise she was given when Chat Noir dropped in a few nights before.

A gentle rapping on the window shook Marinette from her concentration as she began a new colour for the Yin Yang. She looked around as she heard the telltale swoosh of Tikki hiding and saw Chat Noir waving from her balcony with a sheepish look on her face. She set down the blanket, laying it flat on the floor, and climbed up her ladder to open it.

“Chat Noir? What are you doing here?”

“Forgive me, but I saw your light on while I was out for a run. It’s getting very cold and my own place is a bit too far for me right now. Do you mind if I warm up in here for a few minutes?”

She wasn’t aware of any patrol they had planned. She double checked the day it was in her head and confirmed yes, it was their night off.

“O-Of course you can, would you like anything to eat or drink?” She moved aside for him to jump in, and watched as he looked around the room in wonder.

“Some hot chocolate, if you have any, please,” he replied, eyes moving from the chaise to the various mannequins and designs strewn about the room.

Marinette dearly hoped he wouldn’t know it was the same he had had just a few weeks ago, and a few times since as the temperature continued to drop.

“S-Sure thing, I’ll be right back.”

She climbed down after him, throwing a panicked glance to where Tikki was hiding and subtly gestured for her to follow. She climbed down the trapdoor to the kitchen and turned to Tikki.

“What is he doing here?” Tikki asked.

“I don’t know! It’s not patrol night! He’s going to recognise my recipe for sure!” She began to pace the kitchen.

“Calm down Marinette, he might just think you sell it here. You said you bought the treats from here didn’t you?”

“I mean yeah, but what if his civilian identity comes here often enough to know it’s not sold?” Marinette could not keep calm, but she kept her voice quiet. No need to freak out both her parents and her unexpected guest.

“New product for winter?”

That stopped Marinette in her tracks. “That could work.” Her nerves stilled, she grabbed two mugs and the flask, filling them and turning back to Tikki again with a smile. “You always know how to calm me down.”

Tikki giggled, “Kwami of luck and maybe logic as well. You best get back to him, we’ve been down here for a while now.”

As if on cue, they heard a soft knock on the door, and an even softer, “You okay down there?”

Marinette took the mugs by the handles, calling back, “Can you please open the door?”

The trapdoor opened as Marinette climbed up, and Chat Noir hastened to take one from her hand, and helped her up with his other one. Claws brushed her wrist as his grip tightened on her hand and while she shouldn’t have been surprised, his strength as he pulled her up caught her off guard slightly.

“I just couldn’t find my mug, I always have hot chocolate in it,” she raised her mug as she spoke.

“That’s a nice one. And this is really good,” he said, taking a sip. Marinette watched his eyes as a hint of recognition flickered over them, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“It’s a… family recipe. We just began selling it in the bakery for the winter.”

His face relaxed, and Marinette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“What are you knitting?”

Man, if this cat didn’t stop. Sure, it’s an innocent question on his part, but Marinette was getting increasingly worried about hiding the truth.

“Oh! Uh, it’s a blanket for a friend of mine. They’re a… big fan of you and Ladybug.”

“And the other needles? I like the different shades of green on it.”

“That’s going to be a sweater, for another friend. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of warm clothes so I’m hoping this will help him.”

“That’s a really lovely gesture, Marinette. One of my friends is into fashion as well, you would get on great with her.”

Marinette hummed in agreement, then said, “I hope you don’t mind me returning to it, I’m trying to get them both done by Christmas.” “Of course not. I should get going now though,” he tipped his mug towards her, empty already, “Thank you very much for the drink, Princess.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped slightly and almost dropped her needles as well. “I-I… you’re welcome, a-any time.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” he replied suavely, adding a wink. Marinette waited until he was safely back out onto her balcony before rolling her eyes with a smile, and got back to her knitting. Stupid cat and his flirting.

Seeing that Madame Bustier was running late, she took Adrien’s sweater out of her bag and began to knit. She had switched out her small clutch for a larger, water-proof bag once she realised she’d need to bring the yarn and needles to class in order to finish it in time. Most of the class had been asking about it so far, including Nino and Alya, but Adrien had been quiet about it until now, when he walked in right as Marinette started another row.

“Hey Marinette, you’re early. What are you making?”

“Oh! Adrien, sweater- hi, uh, I mean-”

“It looks great so far. Green would look nice on you.”

Marinette squeaked and went bright red. “O-oh, uh, thank you, but it’s for a friend,” she giggled nervously.

“Well then, they’re a lucky friend!” Adrien smiled as he began unpacking his notebook and pencil case, and turned to the front. Madam Bustier walked in a moment later, gesturing for Marinette to put away the needles. Marinette didn’t miss the slight shiver that Adrien had to his frame, nor the goosebumps beginning to raise on his arms and the back of his neck.

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

“Chat Noir!”

It was the week before Christmas, and Marinette was in the home stretch of finishing this blanket. She was knitting on her balcony, hot chocolate by her side and just sheltered from the light snowfall. But now, she could just see the silhouette of the cat hero a few roofs away. He turned his head in surprise and as a result, almost fell off of his staff. She waved her hand, gesturing for him to come over to her.

As he got closer, she called out, “What are you doing out in the snow? It’s way too cold for someone in a skin-tight suit to be out here!”

“But Princess, you’re out here too!” he called back, now standing in front of her.

“I am wrapped up in sweaters and fuzzy pants, with a blanket over me, not a skin-tight suit, as I said! You should be at home, as warm and wrapped up as I am,” she finished on a gentler note as his ears drooped.

“I… don’t want to be home right now. I got into a fight with my father. Can I stay here for a bit?”

Her heart dropped and her eyes filled with sympathy for him. She knew it was a bad situation, but not leave-the-house-in-the-middle-of-winter bad. “Of course you can.”

She opened the skylight, carefully plopping down her almost-finished blanket and needles, then climbed in after it. He shook the snow from his hair, passed her half-empty mug of hot chocolate to her and hopped down onto the bed. She put the mug on a ledge next to her bed and said, “Do you need a hug?”

Almost immediately, he wrapped her in a bear hug not unlike the one he gave Ladybug a few weeks prior. She raised her arms just in time and curled them around his neck and if she happened to feel a tear or two slide onto her shoulders, she didn’t mention it.

Her hands weaved themselves into his wild hair, holding him close. She stayed silent, knowing words couldn’t convey the comfort she tried to give him. His arms were so long, they almost doubled back to himself. Together, they shivered, as he cried onto her shoulder silently and the wind blew through the skylight above. She untangled one of her hands to reach up and close it, but Chat Noir took this as a sign to let go and step back. Her other hand still tangled, she lost balance and they fell, Chat Noir landing on top of her as she hit the bed with an “oof!”

Marinette drew in a sharp breath as Chat Noir’s head hit her collarbone. That’s going to leave a bruise, she thought with a wince.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“Yeah, just knocked the breath out of me,” she replied, finally removing her hand from his hair. She sat up as he hurried to get off of her and sat at the end of her bed, both of their eyes wide open.

“So, um-”

“I-”

They both tried to speak at once, giggling when they stopped. Chat Noir gestured for her to speak first, so she did.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Please,” he replied gratefully, moving aside so she could climb down the ladder, following after her. She returned after a few minutes, setting their mugs down next to her computer. “Can you pass me down the blanket, please? I’m so close to finishing,” she asked as she held out her arms for it to be dropped into. She stumbled when it landed; it felt heavier than she expected it to be. Oh well, she thought, this means it should be extra warm.

She got settled in her desk chair, the blanket flowing down past her feet as Chat Noir settled on her chaise with his mug. They sat in a comfortable quiet, the only sounds in the room coming from the whirring of her computer, the clacking of the needles and a sip from Chat Noir every once in a while. She’d look up from time to time, and see his bright eyes staring back at her with a shy interest. There were hints of dried tears on his face, and she subtly elbowed the tissue box beside her towards him.

At last, she finished the last row of the blanket. She cast off, spreading it out on the floor and stepped back to look at her work. Chat Noir joined her, looking over it in wonder.

“How long did this take you?”

“Just under a month. I’ve been knitting as fast as I can and spent almost every waking moment on it. Except for when I’ve been at school, which I spent working on this,” she said as she pulled out the sweater for Adrien. “It’s for my friend Adrien. His father doesn’t really let him wear clothes that would give him comfort. I mean, I get that as a model he’s always representing the brand, but what kind of father chooses style over comfort for his own son? I’m surprised he hasn’t frozen to death already,” she tried to lighten the end of her rant as she realised she was getting angry.

He took a gentle hold on her elbow, and she looked up to face him. He had an odd look on his face, like he was embarrassed, though he had no reason to be.

“You’re an amazing friend, Marinette, and I’m sure he is going to love yo- it.”

She beamed at his praise and set it down on the chair, hugging him again with her whole body, his own arms wrapping tightly around her.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate, but I think I should go before my father realises I’m gone.”

She squeezed him tighter for a moment and whispered, “Will you be okay there? You know you’re welcome at any time, okay?”

He squeezed her back and replied, “I think I’ll be okay, but I will let you know,” and stepped back, taking care to not step on the blanket. She watched as he climbed the ladder and up onto the balcony, only looking back to wave her goodbye. She waved in reply then folded the blanket up, putting it into the bag she had reserved for patrols.

With only half a sleeve to go, she picked up the needles and set herself back down on the chair, continuing her work on Adrien’s sweater.

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

Conveniently enough, the next morning was announced to be the last school day before holiday break, as the weather predicted heavy snowfall for the coming days. Unfortunately though, it gave Marinette only today to give the now-completed sweater to Adrien. It was wrapped and labelled to and from (both Marinette and Alya made sure of it) but Marinette was frozen when she reached the classroom, causing Alya to bump into her back.

“Marinette! You can do this,” she heard her hiss, but she just couldn’t. There Adrien was, sitting and laughing at something Nino had said. She squeaked, almost losing her balance trying to step forward, which caught Adrien’s attention.

“Hey Marinette! What’s that you have there?”

Alya nudged her, and this time she did start to slip. This is how I die, she thought with a great internal sigh.

Quick as lightning, Adrien was in front of her, keeping her steady with concern masking his face.

“You okay?”

Marinette couldn’t do anything but stammer. “U-uh, you, I- gift! For you!”

“F-For me?”

He looked down to her hands, which were now shaking with the present between them.

“I-I mean…” Marinette looked helplessly back to Alya, who gave her a gentle nod, then looked back to Adrien and took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s for you. Merry Christmas, Adrien.”

The whole class was silent now, watching the two. Even Chloe watched, clearly fuming with a glare in Marinette’s direction.

He took it from her gently, their hands brushing for a moment. Marinette could swear she felt a spark, something warm in the cold room when they touched, but it disappeared as the package left her hands. She didn’t expect for him to set it down and sweep her into a hug so loving it reminded her of Chat N- no. No feelings for Chat Noir, only Adrien.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear with a squeeze.

In the middle of winter, Marinette felt like she was on fire. She tentatively raised her arms to hug him back, only for him to step back at the same moment and suddenly she was cold again.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back as he turned away to open the gift. His eyes lit up with happiness as he unfolded the sweater, gushing, “I’m the lucky friend?!”

Marinette giggled, “You have my lucky charm, remember?”

That made Adrien snort, “Marinette, I think you are my lucky charm.”

The class dissolved into a chorus of “aww’s” and the two suddenly remembered where they were, both blushing furiously. Fortunately for them, Madame Bustier walked in to start seconds later.

He wore the sweater proudly for the rest of the day, and home, as far as Marinette saw.

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

“Tikki, spots on!”

Later that night, Marinette transformed once again into Ladybug. She made sure the lamp was on and her goodie bag was secured around her body before launching off of the balcony towards their meeting place for patrols. The snow was falling lightly, looking magical in the night. Chat Noir was already there, holding his own bag that fell by the side of the swea- sweater?

Her jaw dropped and she almost missed her target with the yoyo. Chat Noir caught on evidently as his face dropped with fear and he reached out for her.

“Ladybug, are you okay? What happened there?”

“Where did you get that sweater?”

His face split into a grin as he ran his claws along the accents. “Oh, isn’t it so cool? A friend gave it to me for Christmas!”

The pieces both fell together and shattered at the same time. Her face dropped in shock. “But I… y-you… I mean… Adrien?”

His mouth fell open and he stuttered back, “M-Marinette?”

They stared at each other in shock for a few moments before Chat Noir snorted, which made Ladybug break and they both just burst into laughter. It felt unbelievable, but made so much sense to the pair. The two who always got everyone to safety so they could be alone; they felt like idiots. Finally their laughter died down, but as Ladybug brought out the Dupain-Cheng box, they started up again. More things began making sense and they couldn’t help themselves.

They found their way to each other, holding on like they’ve been separated for years.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Ladybug mumbled. Chat Noir’s body shielded her from the oncoming snow as they held each other.

“I can’t believe it either. We thought we were smart,” he laughed, and she could hear his smile.

“You’re gonna love this then,” she stepped back and opened her back, pulling out the blanket. She actually thought he might cry then and there. She held it towards him, who took it with such soft hands.

“You made this, for me?”

“I didn’t know your measurements- well, as it turns out I do, but I figured it would be something for us to keep warm under before patrols.”

“Marinette, I love you.”

They both paused, the phrase seemingly slipped out on its own, but she couldn’t help but reply, “I love you too.”

Winter patrols suddenly became a lot warmer.

#writing #fanfic #mlsecretsanta #ml secret santa #coffeecomicsgalore #mlsecretsanta2020 #miraculous ladybug #mlb #adrien #marinette #chat noir #ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ladrien #ladynoir

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gisachi · 4 years

Note

ShiRan kiss prompts #12

Hi...sorry for the long wait. ^^;; Burnout hitting me like crazy, but I want to deliver new content so here it is, and I hope this is okay! This went waaay above my word count limit but whatever. xD Also I realized only after I finished writing this that I kinda strayed away from the prompt so I’m sorry if this played out differently from what you’re expecting, Anon! 😬✌🏼

12. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss. (2,363 words)

Something’s off about Shinichi lately.

Between them, Ran knows herself as the moodier one, so it comes as a surprise when she starts to notice Shinichi acting sourly around her in class. When something bugs him, he usually won’t hesitate to tell her right away, so the fact that he isn’t bringing this one up bothers her a little.

This moodiness has been going on for two weeks. And two weeks ago was the arrival of Sakuraba-kun, a transfer student from London.

Sakuraba-kun’s fairly attractive with his blonde hair and brown eyes, and can speak a little Japanese because his father is one. Girls from their class envy Ran for being assigned by their sensei to assist him with Japanese classes, Ran being his seatmate. So for the past two weeks, she’s often seen around him, making sure he gets his homework done, and Sakuraba-kun cracks jokes once in a while and Ran laughs. A fun lot this classmate is.

“Do you find him attractive?” Shinichi asked her once as they ate lunch.

“He has nice features,” Ran casually replied, not finding the need to add, ‘but he’s not my type’, so as not to thread into the topic of who her real type is, with him.

Sometimes, she sees from her peripherals how the guys in their class whisper something to Shinichi, only for them to snigger and his face to contort into a god-awful frown and curse them away, and then the rest of the day is just him sulking and staring out the window.

Sometimes, before she and Shinichi go up the rooftop for lunch, they bump into Sakuraba-kun and he stalls them for a few minutes, and Shinichi tries to get into the conversation but Sakuraba-kun brushes him off everytime, leaving him peculiarly quiet the remainder of lunch break.

Sometimes, Sakuraba-kun catches up with them on the school gate before starting their walk home, and he goes in between him and her as he walks with them for two blocks before they part ways. Consistently, Shinichi releases a ‘tch’ under his breath whenever Sakuraba-kun places his hands on Ran’s shoulders before bidding her - only her - goodbye.

One time, during their walk home to which Sakuraba-kun wasn’t invited, he openly asked Ran about her relationship with Shinichi, having noticed how they always walked home together. She blushed at the question, unable to meet Shinichi’s eyes as she stammered, “Uh, we-we’re—”

“She’s my best friend. And I’m hers. Anything wrong with that?” Shinichi butted in, face blank but voice dead serious as he walked ahead without looking at their direction.

When he noticed that the two weren’t walking along, he glanced back and saw an amused Sakuraba and a blushing Ran tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, something like that…” her eyes remained fixated to the ground, Shinichi’s ‘and I’m hers’ replaying in her ear like a broken record.

“Mm. So, just friends?” Sakuraba-kun’s eyes drifted between Ran and Shinichi. He beamed annoyingly and patted Shinichi’s shoulders for the first time.

“That’s nice to know, Kudou-san,” he simpered, winked and walked away.

In those two weeks, that’s the first time Ran heard Shinichi audibly grumble.

The rest of their walk was spent in silence.

The next day was even worse. First period hadn’t even begun and Shinichi’s already as quiet as a rock, which only happened when he’s deep in thought about something. Ran wanted to ask him why, but her attempts always got interrupted by Sakuraba-kun asking for her help in some homework he probably knew the answer to already.

Before she knew it, the day’s already over and as she packed her bag, Shinichi silently drew near her desk.

“Ran, can we talk?”

“Oh, Shinichi. About what?”

“Hey, Ran-san! Are you ready for tomorrow?” the London boy interfered, shouting to her from across the door, “I already asked mom to cook her signature meat pie and I’m sure you’ll love it!”

Flashing him a kind smile, Ran waved him goodbye. “Yes, I’ll see you then, Sakuraba-kun!”

He disappeared out the door, and Ran returned her attention to Shinichi, who witnessed their interaction and was now eyeing her questioningly.

“Sakuraba-kun invited me to his house for tomorrow’s tutoring session,” she began, before he could even ask.

“Okay,” Shinichi nodded his head, averting his gaze to the window. “Okay. I see.”

There was thick silence; she swore she could hear a needle drop.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, and Ran’s eyes widened.

“I, uh... I’m not sure, Shinichi.”

“Why?”

“Sakuraba-kun said to come alone, since his flat isn’t big enough for more than five people, given his parents and brother are there.”

Shinichi perked an eyebrow.

“That guy asked you to come alone?”

She nodded.

“And you agreed?”

“I...don’t find anything wrong with it?”

His nose wrinkled in distate.

“Ran. A transfer student we barely know is inviting you to his house, instructing you to come. Alone. Aren’t you getting a little too comfortable with this?”

He said that with a slightly raised voice, and Ran’s eyes narrowed into crinkled slits. What was he implying? Was he really going to get mad at this?

“What’s with that ridiculous mindset, Shinichi? Sakuraba-kun isn’t up to anything bad. I can confirm that because he showed Sonoko and I his flat last week and-”, she paused midway, biting her lip.

More silence, and she knew right then she wound him up when she saw his jaw visibly clench.

“You went there, and you didn’t tell me?”

“B-Because! You’re going to get upset again,” she gestured vaguely at him, “Like that.”

He threw his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, you think wrong. I’m feeling worse. The hell are you like that?”

“The hell am I...like…Excuse me?”

In that moment something in her snapped. Apart from his spiteful tone, he didn’t even seem to think through the ramifications of his words. She was just trying to be considerate. But the way she saw it, he’s making her feel like it was entirely her responsibility why he felt worse.

“I don’t get it Shinichi,” she clenched her fist, tight. “Why are you so upset with me when it comes to Sakuraba-kun?”

“What? Is it wrong to be worried for my best friend?” he answered with an equally frustrated voice.

“That’s a lie and your smart brain needs to think of a better reason!” Ran screeched, taking him aback.

“Even if he isn’t doing anything to me in school you’re still acting so bitterly and I don’t understand why! And it only happens with Sakuraba-kun! Just admit that you’re being immature hating on another who hasn’t done you wrong!”

“What?! I-”

She saw the strong urge in him to say something but deciding against it the last minute.

It wasn’t her intention to shout but she couldn’t help it. If only he wasn’t this overbearingly flippant. If only he was more careful with the words he said, and wasn’t saying. Isn’t saying.

She waited for him to speak but instead, he ruffled his hair, grabbed his satchel and walked away, not even giving her a second look.

“Forget it. Go if you want to.”

That day, Shinichi and Ran didn’t walk home together.

The last bell rings and people start to dissipate. Shinichi refuses to talk to her the whole day, and Ran internally struggles as to whether she’ll talk to him first and apologize.

For what, though? She cannot even explain what happened yesterday. As far as she knows she didn’t do anything bad, maybe apart from being a little too harsh with her choice of words.

But it’s Shinichi who started it, she thinks. So she decides to hold on for a little longer, ignoring the little pang in her chest.

She really hates it when this happens.

Her phone pings to an email notification from Sakuraba-kun saying he’s waiting for her at the school gate. She blinks at it and closes her phone. At this point she isn’t even sure if she wants to go. But sensei has given her this job of tutoring him, and she must comply.

That makes her think. Sakuraba-kun is nice and all, but does tutoring him come with the obligation of teaching him whenever, wherever he pleases?

She sighs, pushes herself out of the chair, and stares at Shinichi’s back from two seats away. How she wishes Shinichi’s doing this with her so he can at least talk her through it.

...

But isn’t that what he tried to do yesterday?

“Are you still going?”

Without looking behind him, he addresses her, and she knows it’s for her because they’re the only ones left in the room. Instantly her mind snaps back to her irritation at him.

“Yes.” She replies, purposely hinting annoyance through her voice.

Shinichi exhales sharply, rolls his eyes and stares out the window.

Seeing that there’s no use arguing and Shinichi doesn’t seem to be in any mood to talk, Ran gets her satchel and walks out the classroom. Before she descends the stairs, she hears the sliding door open and his voice reaching out to her.

“Don’t go, damnit!”

Ran stops walking, half turning her head over her shoulder. “Why?”

“Don’t go there alone. Or at least. Study with him in a coffee shop or somewhere.”

“Shinichi.”

“Or just take me with you.”

“I’m asking you, Shinichi. Why?”

He doesn’t speak, letting the silence linger on, shallow footsteps of people echoing from afar.

“Do you like him?” he asks lowly, voice barely above a whisper.

“What? No! What’s with you, Shinichi?!” Ran scowls, this time turning around to face him.

“Have you ever thought that the reason he wants you alone is because he likes you?”

Ran’s lips shut tight, unable to reply. She won’t admit that that does cross her mind a few times, but she isn’t one to care so she sets it aside.

“Have you thought of the repercussions of being alone with a guy who likes you and wants you alone in his house?”

“He isn’t—”

“Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why I’m in a foul mood is because I don’t want that to happen?”

Ran would’ve been blushing if she isn’t so peeved.

“So it’s about what you want now? I’m not gonna go because that’s what Shinichi wants?”

“Then do you want to be alone with him in his room?”

“I’m just going to help him with his homework! You make it sound like I’m wanting to—”

“So you don’t, right?”

“Y-You’re giving me weird thoughts now! Baka Shinichi!”

He drags his feet to her, still not done talking.

“Then, have you ever thought that the reason why I’m in a foul mood is because you’re spending a lot more time with him than you are with me and god, I hate it?”

“B-But I need to because sensei asked m- Huh? Wh—”

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, about you, I-” breath short, he stops just before her, eyes never leaving hers. Ran’s face heats up, realizing how close he is now when a minute ago he’s just by the door of the classroom.

Gulping hard, she stands her ground, trying to look unfazed. She takes one step forward, meeting him eye to eye.

“Stop with the questions and answer me first, Shinichi!” she demands, voice laced with authority. “Why? Why do you not want me there? Why hate on him?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again, fists clenching and unclenching.

“And don’t tell me you have the right as my best friend to say all these because Sonoko is my best friend too and she doesn’t get mad when I’m with Sakuraba-kun!”

From the distance Ran sees two of their teachers talking to each other, walking to their direction. They don’t have much time. She doesn’t want their teachers asking them why they’re still around because she doesn’t know how she’ll explain this, and Sakuraba-kun is waiting for her outside.

“Answer me.”

She tries to sound commanding, but his silence exasperates her and she feels the corner of her eyes sting. Screw this. Once the teachers get nearer, she’ll just leave him like that and endure this petty fight for one more day.

“Just- whatever, Shinichi. I’ll-”

“Ugh. You want to know why?”

Not giving her time to reply, he grabs her wrist and pulls her behind the wall by the stairs, pinning her not so gently but not so forcefully either. Ran’s eyes widen, and shortly after uttering the first syllable of his name, she is stopped by his lips clashing with hers, muffling the rest of her sound.

His lips are firm and compelling, enough to paralyze her neck down. It lasts so quickly that Ran doesn’t even have time to close her eyes before he separates.

With eyes still closed and brows furrowed, he rests his forehead against hers and breathes heavily, cheeks as red as the setting sun spilling over their faces.

Her pulse starts to gallop a hundred miles per hour.

“Shi...n…”

“Don’t go.”

Hearing him say that again, more expressively this time, makes her forget how to breathe. And when she does attempt to breathe, he closes in again and captures her lips.

Though the press of his mouth remains commanding, there’s this certain softness in it that makes all the spite in her heart disappear. She suddenly forgets why they’re fighting, overpowered by her need to close her eyes and just...feel.

To feel his hand climb the crook of her neck, resting below her ear. To feel his grip soften around her wrist, holding her like a fragile glass he doesn’t want to break. To feel his chest against hers thunder from his raging heart, dancing in sync with her equally restless one. To feel his silky lips move against her dry ones, kissing her lovingly like he is hers, and she, his.

Has she been misunderstanding him all along?

He opens his eyes slowly, meeting hers. She loses herself at the waterfall of emotions gushing from his eyes, a mixture of affection and frustration and everything else in between.

“That’s why.”

#shinran #fanfic #kiss prompts #ok admittedly this isnt the best one ive done #i wrote this with a saturated brain #so i was having a real hard time #and kinda gave up editing and left it like this #i just dont want to leave it sitting in my drafts for so long that ill end up not posting it #im sorry im so negative #jkashdkags #but still thank u Anon for the request #now lemme just rest my fried brain first lmao #thank you for reading!!

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benreys-realm · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: BATHTIME

There was a tense silence as the two men sat at the table, both just trying to wrack their brains on how to tell Benry the news. It wasn’t going to go over well, not at all... Actually it was going to end in disaster.. and possibly lots of bite marks. Tommy and Barney glanced at one another before sighing.

“I think... between the two of us... we can do it...” Barney says slowly, his chin resting on his hands.

There is a pause, and Tommy slowly speaks.

“Maybe if it break it to him VERY gently he won’t freak out... it has to be done... We can’t put it off any longer... it’s been going on for 5 days now!”

A loud groan escapes Barney’s lips as he moves his hands and rubs his temples.

“Dear god... I don’t wanna lose a hand Tommy.. he is not gonna take that well... He bites through solid METAL.” Banrey counters.

A soft smile creeps across Tommy’s lips along with a faint yellow glow.

“Awe don’t worry Mr. Calhoun, I have a plan! It’s sure to work...” Tommy says and he sets his hands on the table and pushes up, before swinging his legs over the seat. He quickly stands and rushes over to the soda machine, buying several drinks and scooping them up in one arm before doing the same with the food dispenser right besides it. A loud groan from Barney echos through the break room as he slowly gets up and trudged after Tommy.

“If I lose a hand because of this, imma kick your ass...” Barney says, as they stand outside of the door. His comment is answered with a cheery smile.

“Awe don’t worry! I got this in the bag, it’ll work trust me!” Tommy says happily, and walks in after Barney unlocks the door and pushes it open. The annoyed grumbles and mumbling from Barney makes Tommy chuckle. Humans sure were amusing.

Inside the room, Benry was lounging on a mattress Tommy had managed to drag in a couple days ago. This time Benry was busy using crayons to practice writing and drawing... There were very few things Benry loved more than that mattress... He was on it 96% of the time. There is a large pair of yellow eyes that seem to glow from under a purple sheet, and the shifting of shoulders like a cat ready to pounce. Fortunately, Tommy was prepared for the tackle hug pounce. Barney, was not. At the sudden blur of orange red fur, Tommy quickly side steps as Benry launches off the mattress at blinding speed, and tackles Barney.

Barney slams his back into the door, before slipping down a bit. After a loud groan, he glanced down at the giant puff ball hugging his chest and purring loudly. The sound of Benry’s tail tapping the ground was very loud. A loud deep chuckle comes out of Barney’s lips as he gently sets a hand and messed up Benry’s fur. The purring grew more intense. Barney pats his back gently.

“Awe heya kiddo I missed ya too... I saw you yesterday ya goof ball... Oh god kid you knocked the wind outta me, good heavens... sure are strong for someone so small...” Barney says as he struggles back to his feet. There was a new routine they had, Benrey knocked him over once before. With a very excitable and strong fluff ball that can run extremely fast, Barney learned at least to stand near a wall so you don’t fall flat on your back again.

Benry lets go and hops to the ground, before quickly running to Tommy and wrapping his arms around him. It’s only been 5 days since they first met Benry, but he had become a major cuddle bug and constantly wanted to be pet or get scratches behind the ears... Tommy thought it was absolutely adorable.

The loud purring makes Tommy smiles and gently shifts all the snacks to one arm before using his free arm to scoop Benry up like a cat. At first, Benry whines loudly before looking up at Tommy with large round eyes. The sounds of a faint whooshing noise of Benry’s tail wags happily and his pupils take up his entire eyes.

God that was cute, he looked like a really big puppy. Imaging Benry as a puppy makes Tommy laugh a bit and snuggles him gently before gently setting Benry down. Benry whirls around the second he’s on the floor and reaches for the goodies. Almost immediately, Tommy stands up keeping them from his reach. This earns a loud whine from Benry and some ear twitching. His tail fluffs up.

“Hey! What gives?! Can just bring in yummy treats without sharing with Benny!!!” He cries out trying to hop up and grab them. Tommy smiles and pats his head.

“I’m planning on sharing, silly. But there’s something we need to do first, Benry. Unfortunately, you have fleas... and that means we need to give you a bath... Surely you’ve noticed the itching?? And the annoying bugs in your fur? Sure doesn’t sound fun...” Tommy says, seeming to look sympathetic. There was more fur poofing up as Benry pouts, and folds his arms.

“Maybe... I don’t wanna take a bath they suck! Their uh... my buddies... yeah... live with me, in my fur... rent freee cuz their my... buddies....” he says, fiddling with his tail again, trying extremely hard to resist to scratch it like crazy. After that he was gonna use his teeth to gnaw at the lil shits making his body itch LIKE CRAZY.

Barney and Tommy exchange a glance. Barney smiles and squats down, being more level with Benry.

“Awe come on now, ya don’t wanna have fleas when ya see Mr. Freeman in two days do you?” He asks, a soft smile creeping on his face. Not even a split second after hearing Gordon’s name, Benry’s ears shoot up, his eyes wide. The soft sounds of paws on metal get louder as Benry runs to Barney, his paws on Barney’s shoulders.

“Wait?! For real?! You... you actually managed to get him to meet me?! How?! Seriously?! I’m actually meet him?! Friend?! My friend??? H-how... you’re not... jokin’ are ya...?” He says his eyes wide and full of hope. Once Barney nods once then Benry glances at Tommy who smiles and nods a few times.

“That’s why we came to celebrate silly! He was extremely excited when I reached out to him! The minute your name popped up he wouldn’t stop sending me questions! He sounded extremely worried about you! He seems really sweet! He can’t wait to meet you, I did let him know that you’re... super cuddly and adorable!” Tommy says, that smile not budging. That comment about being cuddly and adorable makes Benry blink, he was absolutely not buying it. There’s a faint growl and tail lashing, along with ears folding down.

“Is this some kinda sick joke? That you’ll get me to take a damn bath cuz you’re making me think Freeman actually wants anything to do with a freak like me?” Benry asks, eyes narrowed.

The sound of bags and sodas shifting in Tommy’s arms is all that’s heard. The expression on Tommy’s face looks completely taken aback, and he looks down. The expression on his face looks wounded, and he looks Benry in the eyes.

“Mr. Freeman is actually coming in two days, Benry. He really wishes to meet you, and no. This isn’t some kind of ruse. I realize this is hard, to trust us... but, we are trying to HELP you Benry! I don’t know how else to explain this... Fleas carry all sorts of diseases and things that could really hurt you. So, unless you take that bath, you won’t see him.” Tommy says with a scolding tone, his arms folding. He looked like a father setting the rules for a disobedient child.... Barney just stared, quite impressed.

“WH-you can’t! You’re! AUGH! Dammit Tommy you’re such an annoying older brother and it drives me insane!!” Benry snaps fur fully fluffing up. Tommy smirks and leans down, nose to nose with Benry.

“And, cus I’m in charge, I can use ‘CUZ I SAID SO.’ So, get ready for that bath. We’ll be bringing in a washtub and shampoo and some flea killing medications, along with the soap that will soothe your agitated skin.. Barney, can you get the washtub, sponge and water for me? I need to grab the shampoo and medicine for the fleas... And probably bring a pair of goggles, he’s gonna try shaking soap into our eyes to wriggle out of it... and rubber gloves....” Tommy says looking at Barney for the other half of the conversation.

The two of them had left Benry a pair of specially made swim trunks that would comfortably allow his tail room to move freely, and asked him to change while the grabbed their supplies. Benry grumbles angrily as he does so. The swim trunks were black, and had a PS Logo on it.. Benry guessed Tommy asked his talented boyfriend to help him make these for him... since he loved PS game systems so much... He actually really liked these... Hella comfy.

Not too long after Benry changed, Barney comes in carrying a big washtub halfway full of warm water, and a sponge floating in it. He gently shuts the door behind him, and glances around for Benry. As expected, he wedged himself into the corner, and looks extremely upset. Don’t blame him...

The door swung open so fast that Barney jumps as Tommy quickly comes in, and uses his foot to close the door. A large pile of shampoos, a pill bottle and ointment in his hands. There’s a loud sigh between the two of them, as they both stare at Benry. Glancing at him, he looked like a fluffed up angry cat. A big ass bipedal cat with teeth that could easily cut through solid metal. The realization that Benry was not going to make this easy makes Tommy sigh. Gently, Tommy sets his hand on Barney’s shoulder, before grabbing the yellow set of rubber gloves, and slips a pair of goggles over his eyes.

“Benry, I promise I’ll give you all the soda and chips you want after this? Okay? Let’s just.... not make those worse than it has to be.... Alright?” Tommy says, his hands raised defensively, trying to show he wasn’t a threat. Benry growls as he approaches, fur bristling. There is a faint hint of mischief in Tommy’s eyes as he grins, and pulls something out of his pocket. It’s small, thin, and looks like a pen cut in half. Benry blinks and tilts his head to the side. As Tommy pushed a button, and a small red beam of light focused on the floor in front of Benry.

A tiny red spec. The sight of that magical red dot made Benry gasp, all other thoughts gone. He pounced, paws covering it, before checking to see if it was still there. Once he does so, the spec had moved 2 inches from under his paws. An annoyed grunt leaves Benrys lips, as he hunkers down and pounces again. Another miss. Tommy leads Benry to the washtub using the laser pointer, and Benry stops just shy of the tub as the light vanished. A couple glances around looking for the spec makes Benry’s eyes fall on the washtub right in front of him. There is a loud gulp, as Benry turns around to see Tommy already grabbing his scruff.

“Noooooo! Don’t wanna! I hate water in my ears!!!! Noooooooo....” Benry whines, flailing above the water. Tommy sighs.

“We won’t get water in your ears, promise. This will make you feel a lot better and a lot less itchy! Please? For me?” Tommy asks, a pleading tone in his voice. Benry looks at Tommy’s face. He looked really sad, like worried... Benry sighs before folding his arms.

“.... Fine... just for the... soda and stuff... and cuz you look hella sad...” Benry says, his ears folding downwards. Tommy smiles and gently sets Benry into the water. Thankfully, for everyone the bath wasn’t nearly as disasterous as expected. Berny was extremely well behaved, and mainly played with the bubbles that kept being made. Tommy made sure that he got flea and tick shampoo into all of Benry’s fur. He was mot allowing any of the fleas or ticks to have a chance to get Benry sick. That would be disastrous.

The water was absolutely disgusting when they were done. As expected, Benry hopped out, and shook off like an animal, sending nasty water everywhere. There was the sound of angry and disgusted protesting as Tommy and Barney both glared at him, but rolled their eyes. Both of them shook their heads as they watched Benry roll around adorably in the towels they brought in. When his fur was wet, he was even smaller than they expected. Extremely skinny, and looked like a thick furred cat who got soaked with water. It was quite funny.

After watching him roll around for a bit, Tommy smiles and grabs a fresh towel and drops it on Benry, and starts brushing his fur. Benry purred loudly, loving the sensation of the itching finally stopping and feeling the grooming. It felt so nice... so relaxing... It felt like a massage... To Tommy’s delight, the fleas were already coming off, meaning the shampoo worked. He smiles and grabs a thick comb, gently trying to comb Benry’s thick and wild fur. He combed for hours, scraping out a large portion of dead skin, fleas, shed fur and other nasty bits from his fur. Barney couldn’t watch that part, the thought of bugs freaked him out to no end.

For the areas of fleas that were painful and still itchy, Tommy rubbed the ointment behind Benry’s ears, and between his shoulder blades. It had taken over 5 hours, but Tommy had completely combed through all of Benry’s dense fur. With that, he had successfully removed a huge amount of the fleas who were dead from the soap and shampoo. After brushing his fur till his arms screamed in pain, Tommy happily noticed he removed almost all the fleas. Now for the other bugs and ticks... Wonderful...

After that, Tommy had checked for any ticks or other parasites, and removing them as gently as possible. From the looks of it, Benry was never properly groomed in his other cell. When Tommy finished everything, Benry was so relaxed curled up next to Tommy. His tail wagged softly, and he was purring very loudly. The content and extremely relaxed expression and body language of Benry and his purring made Tommy’s heart swell....

The way Benry laid curled up with his chin resting on Tommy’s leg made it appear that he was partly asleep, looking like he was feeling a million times better. His fur shone, with such a brightness and was actually shades lighter than they originally thought. With some rustle of clothes, Barney smirks, leans forward and tells Tommy to look at him from the front. Tommy gently shifts to look and smiles softly. There was soft twitching of his cute little nose, along with his light blue tongue sticking out only partly. It was possible cutest thing Barney or Tommy had seen, and Barney chucked softly. After Tommy moved back to rest his aching back against the wall, Benry seemed to knead Tommy’s pants leg with his paws, followed by loud purring. Clearly, he was extremely happy.

With a soft sigh of relief, Tommy smiles and gently strokes Benry’s now soft and silky fur, and looks so relieved to see his younger sibling feeling so much better. It was established quickly that Benry declared Tommy his other brother, to which Tommy had cried for hours after he left the room. That has made him so undeniably happy... That meant the world to Tommy, seeing that Benry felt he had family here.

One the same day, Benry had accidentally called Barney dad, which Barney just grinned like a fool, scooped him up and just hugged him. It had taken over 10 minutes to get Barney to let go, but thankfully both of them were elated, and Benry seemed to enjoy the company. Barney came by twice to three times a day, now making extra trips on his rounds to check in Benry, and sneak him snacks. The only person complaining was Barney’s boss, but he didn’t mind. He end Benry absolutely loved it, getitng to see his dad and big brother were the highlights of his days.

Like clockwork, Tommy and Barney both had to leave. As gently as they could the set Benry on his mattress. Within seconds, he curled up and snuggled into the sheets, hugging one finger plushies Tommy and Barney had given him. As a special present, Tommy left him an old game console, one that could play one of the bery first Pokémon games. It was quickly discovered Benry was fantastic at video games, and Tommy had worked extremely hard to smuggle some games into him. When berny did wake up, he stared in awe at the games and small console sitting an inch from his twitching nose.

It didn’t take long before Benry had wrapped his small paws around it and immediately began playing it. That lasted about a day or so before his thoughts began drifting elsewhere. Or, more about a certain SOMEONE. Someone who’d be visiting him soon... Like... SOON SOON. The thought hadn’t processed until he was busy making his way through one of the halfway cities in the Fire Red Pokemon game.

Soon, he’d be seeing Freeman... his heart fluttered. Omg. That was just over a day away! Benry paused his game, he was at a boring part, anyways.... Tommy told him he has to start with the classics before he worked his way up to the newer games. Benry’s mind roamed, he had a general idea of what Gordon looked like... he didn’t give major specifics... but he couldn’t wait... Benry had a hard time focusing on his Pokémon game as Gordon kept appearing in his head....

**Meanwhile, in a city far from Black Mesa**

Gordon had been getting anxious. He’s been chatting with someone named Tommy Coolatta, who was supposedly going to be giving him the tour of Black Mesa. He also gave extremely unsubtle hints that he was going to be taking him to see a “special friend.” From the sounds of it, Tommy was well known in the facility.

At a bad attempt to be subtle about prying, Tommy caught in immediately and informed Gordon his father is the one who runs the entire facility of Black Mesa, and that he was very impressed at Gordon’s academic skills and intelligence. (For a human.)

There was a tense silence as Gordon asked if he misheard him and Tommy quickly said he accidentally rambles about things on occasion, nothing to worry about. That was the first thing to start making Gordon’s anxiety get worse.

After that misheard comment, Gordon felt his heart stop. Tommy had mentioned in his texts not to be... scared or stare at Benry, for it would upset him. Something he mentioned about Benry being extremely self conscious of his appearance. For a moment he thought he heard some strange static and a garbled voice threatening him if he hurt Benry’s feelings he’d make sure he’d be BEGGING for death. Cold sweats prickled Gordon’s face. That... ok he really needed to get a new cell phone, his was seriously out of date or hacked.

After that extremely uncomfortable conversation with Tommy, Gordon sighed, and rubbed his tired face once he hung up the phone. He didn’t know but... Benry had been there for him through so much... that was his friend... Well, to Gordon more than that.... he knew he saw Benry as a lot more than just a friend... He often wondered if Benry felt the same about him... Foolish to hope for such a thing but... He decided to let himself pretend to be happy for once, actually have a solid crush in someone... didn’t matter, he’d be meeting them in a day... He hoped, anyways.

19 notes · View notes

pixieminutes · 4 years

Text

Uncertain | KHJ

genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au

members: kim hongjoong x reader, brother!jung wooyoung, choi jongho, park seonghwa, jeong yunho

warnings: swearing, walking out

5th July, 2018

“i’m y/n,” you smiled.

“and she is my sister! which means that if any of you lay a hand on her–” wooyoung pulled his gun out of his pocket and smiled sweetly, “there we go.”

you laughed slightly, only hitting him when you saw he’d put the gun fully back into his pocket.

“and why is she here?” a man asked.

he had a mullet, dyed light brown and his ears were full of earrings.

“that’s hongjoong,” wooyoung whispered, “our leader.”

hongjoong raised his eyebrows at wooyoung expectantly and your brother coughed, spluttering his words out.

“well– she– i– you know,” wooyoung took a deep breath, “she’s here because i don’t want her to stay with our parents. if any of you had little siblings, you’d do the same, right?”

“wrong,” jongho said, “it’s actually my little siblings who are the evil ones. if i could get my parents away, i would. but, they won’t leave.”

wooyoung rolled his eyes, “except you.”

hongjoong sighed, “she can stay. she can eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with us. we have a room on the top floor and remind her she doesn’t need to clean any rooms.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, scoffing at hongjoong, “you know i’m right here, don’t you?”

wooyoung widened his eyes, beginning to drag you away by your shoulders, “ah, she’s joking hong—”

“no, it’s okay,” hongjoong chuckled, walking over so he was only centimetres away from your face, “she’s brave. i like it.”

“i’m not brave, i’m just calling you out,” you scoffed, “and sorry but, where’s my room? i kinda need a nap right now.”

hongjoong scoffed, nodding his head, grabbing your arm gently, “come with me.”

“i meant it hongjoong!” wooyoung called after the two of you.

hongjoong pulled the gun out of his pocket, not taking his attention off of your conversation.

wooyoung just rolled his eyes.

9th February, 2020

“where are you going?” you called.

hongjoong turned back to you, smiling sweetly with no meaning, “i’m going to get ice cream and frolick in the park.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing, “i was just asking.”

“i’m going out.”

“yes, but where?” you pushed.

“does it matter to you?!” hongjoong exclaimed, “jesus christ, can i not even leave without you bugging me?!”

you looked back to the clock in the kitchen, 19:14.

“fine,” you laughed dryly, “go. i won’t stay up.”

“no one asked you to.”

“be safe!” you called, “wherever the fuck you’re going.”

only three months after you’d moved in with ateez, you and hongjoong had made moves to take you far beyond just friends, despite wooyoung’s words. who was wooyoung to fight, though? his gang’s leader dating his sister was only to end in good things for him, especially with how much joy you brought to hongjoong.

brought. past tense.

since then, just under two years had passed and it had somewhat changed.

the hard, mafia leader hongjoong, who you managed to melt away until he was simply your boyfriend, had somehow bounced back.

now? you laid in bed alone, cold, and, underlining everything; lonely.

12th February, 2020

“where’s wooyoung?” hongjoong asked.

the six other members looked at each other, slight shrugs and shakes of their heads going between them before hongjoong shouted out, groaning loudly.

“where the fuck is that boy?!” he yelled, “i’ve had it with the jung family!”

“i’m here! hongjoong! i’m here! sorry!” wooyoung exclaimed, running in the room and sitting in his spot beside jongho.

“explanation?” hongjoong said simply, raising one eyebrow as he looked to the panting boy.

“there was a girl in my bed this morning,” wooyoung said, still trying to get his breath back, “it was not easy to explain why i had to go.”

hongjoong laughed cruely, “there was a girl in my bed this morning too. your sister. and just because your sister is in my bed, does not mean you get to fucking slack! do you understand?”

hongjoong’s voice was quiet, but exasperated, and it sent shivers down all the boys’ spines.

wooyoung nodded, gravely, “yes, hongjoong.”

“good,” he spat, “then we’ll continue.”

“what did you mean you’ve had it with the jung family?” seonghwa asked, “everything okay?”

“being particularly nosey, are we seonghwa?” hongjoong sighed.

seonghwa rolled his eyes, “no! i’m fucking worried about you, man! i don’t want your girl at home to be unsatisfying. that’s the worst thing a mafia leader could deal with.”

hongjoong scoffed, “it is, isn’t it?”

seonghwa laughed and nudged hongjoong’s shoulder, “so? care to tell me?”

“she’s just so fucking annoying,” hongjoong cried, “she’s so clingy and she always wants to cuddle?! like literally a couple weeks ago she came and climbed on my lap while i was working so we could cuddle. while i was working!”

seonghwa grimaced, “god. have you told her?”

“no. i’m trying to be a dick so i can let her down slowly. make her not want me until we’re at a mutual place.”

seonghwa nodded, the plan was cruel, but probably the best one a mafia leader could have come up with.

“what about wooyoung?” seonghwa asked.

“what about him?”

“well doesn’t it become a bit fucking awkward after you’ve hit it and quit it with his sister?”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, scoffing, “if he has a problem with it, he can leave. i’ll give her enough money to buy her own place, so she’ll be fine.”

seonghwa gasped, “wow! really? god, hongjoong, you’re so kind! i should be more like you.”

hongjoong smiled, “i try.”

27th February, 2020

“hongjoong,” you whined, leaving the warmth and comfort of your bed, seeing your boyfriend still sat at his desk, “why aren’t you in bed?”

“unlike some of us, i have to work, y/n,” hongjoong spat.

you pouted, “you stressed? you sound it. hold on, i’ll make you a warm drink.”

hongjoong went to protest, but you had already left the room. he sighed, he didn’t want a fucking hot drink, he wanted to be left alone.

you hummed as you made the chai tea, a special recipe you’d concocted yourself. using milk and spices and tea, it filled the house with a comforting smell and warmed you up to no end.

you put a couple of the egg tarts you’d made the previous day on a plate and poured the tea into a mug, walking back into hongjoong’s office and setting them beside him.

“it’s late you know,” you sighed.

hongjoong gritted his teeth, looking up at you with a piercing look.

you seemed oblivious, looking curiously round his office, you’d never stayed in here for long.

“i know you know that, though,” you chuckled, “i’m going back to bed, okay? don’t be too long.”

you approached your boyfriend, the man almost ready to burst at any second until you placed the tiniest kiss on his temple, leaving the room again, hongjoong hearing your bare feet pad up the stairs.

he looked at the plate and cup in front of him, taking a sip from the tea, a slight smile raised his lips. it reminded him of you, though he wasn’t sure why.

he sighed, leaning forward and taking a bite of the egg tart, “thank you.”

6th March, 2020

you sighed, watching your boyfriend leave again, for the fourth time that week.

picking up your phone, you pressed your brother’s contect, holding it to your ear as you walked upstairs to find the little belongings that belonged solely to you.

“what’s up!” wooyoung laughed, “i miss you, y/n.”

you sighed, “yeah, well you might be seeing me sooner than you think.”

“huh?” wooyoung asked, panic laced in his voiced, “w-what do you mean?”

a tear fell from your eye as you packed only the clothes you owned previous to knowing hongjoong, looking around your shared bedroom.

“i can’t do it,” you said, your voice shaky as you shook your head, “god, woo, i can’t— it’s like he doesn’t even know i’m here. i’m more like his maid. just for cooking and cleaning and fucking whenever he pleases.”

wooyoung sighed, unable to think of any words to say.

“every time i try and help him, i just have no reply,” you said, “i can’t do it anymore. i can’t help him. i actually think he might be heartless.”

“are you going to come here?” wooyoung asked.

he sounded fed-up, and just that thought alone made your heart sink. you felt bad. you felt so bad. but being with woo, it was just going to be better than ever being with hongjoong. you weren’t stupid.

“if that’s okay,” you said with a sigh, “i’ll find somewhere else as soon as possible.”

“it’s fine, y/n,” wooyoung said, “you coming now?”

“yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, i just need to write a note. i’m sorry if this gets you in any kind of—”

“don’t,” wooyoung said, “it’s fine. it’ll be awkward but, as long as i don’t do anything, he won’t.”

you nodded, “well. i’ll see you in a bit.”

wooyoung hummed, quickly hanging up.

you sighed, heading down to the kitchen, pulling the bag with you. you poured out a cup of homemade chai tea and the last remaining egg tart from the most recent batch. you quickly scribbled a note and left it underneath.

“ah!” you exclaimed, turning back only seconds after you began to leave, picking up the pen, “p.s. microwave the tea for 1 minute 40 seconds. that’s how you like it. y/n.”

you sighed, finally stepping out the front door once and for all. this was it. no regrets.

“i’m home,” hongjoong sighed, knowing that with the time on the clock you’d already have gone to bed.

he walked into the kitchen, scoffing as he saw the tea and the tart.

“what’s this?” he muttered, ripping the note out from underneath the plate, grabbing the tart as well so he could eat as he read.

hi hongjoong. welcome home i guess.

when you go upstairs, don’t expect to find me. i love you joong, i really do, but i can’t do this anymore. i try to love and care for you but all you do is push me further away.

maybe that was your plan. you’re just cruel like that, aren’t you? i should have expected it really, dating a mafia leader. still. i thought you’d changed. i guess not.

thanks for a happy two years hongjoong. i love you.

- y/n

p.s. microwave the tea for 1 minute 40 seconds. that’s how you like it - y/n

hongjoong dropped the note, looking to the tea and the tart in front of him. this was what he wanted. this is what he was trying to do, but now he wasn’t sure.

he rushed upstairs, going into the bedroom where, sure enough, you weren’t.

on every normal day he’d come home, he’d walk into the bedroom, switch the light on, switch it off when he realised you were asleep, shake your snow globe and kiss you once before going downstairs to continue work.

now, however, he could turn the light on, artificially brightening the room, and not have to turn it back off. you weren’t there.

he turned to look at the snow globe, one you’d bought when hongjoong took you to disneyland for your 100 day anniversary. it wasn’t there.

hongjoong walked downstairs limply, no thoughts running through his head as he came back in the kitchen, placing the tea in the microwave for 1 minute and 40 seconds, slowly eating the egg tart as he waited and thought.

this is what he wanted. he’d planned it all out in his head. but now it had happened, now his plan had worked and you had gone. was this really it?

...maybe that was your plan. you’re just cruel like that, aren’t you?

hongjoong swore as he crouched down, holding his face in his hands. yes, he was cruel. he was so, so cruel and now he was left to suffer in the aftermath by himself. alone.

15th March, 2020

“morning,” wooyoung said, a slight smile as he handed you a cup of coffee, “how you feeling?”

you sighed, your eyes filling with tears as you looked back on the situations of the past week. although you were the one who walked out, and he was the one who did wrong, a small part of you couldn’t help but want him to come and find you.

“not well, huh?” your brother said, patting your head slightly, “it’s okay. heartbreak sucks.”

“like you’d know!” you exclaimed.

“what’s that supposed to mean!” wooyoung shouted.

“ya! don’t shout at me!” you shouted.

“you’re doing it to me too!”

“um, guys?” yunho said, knocking at the door slightly, “y/n, there’s someone here for you.”

“for me?” you asked, getting out of bed, a confused look on your face, “well i guess i did tell nari about the situation.”

yunho shook his head, “it’s not nari. just go. i think you’ll be glad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, watching as he walked away, before making your own way to the front door.

“hello?” you asked, seeing no one there.

you poked your head round, and saw a figure sat on the swinging chair outside. a figure you know all too well.

“y/n,” he said, “ca– can we talk? for a bit?”

you sighed, pushing the door closed behind you and walking to sit next to him.

“i guess you got my note,” you said.

hongjoong sighed, nodding, “yeah.”

it fell silent, as you saw hongjoong fiddle with his fingers and take several deep breaths, as though he was trying to psych himself up.

“i– i—” hongjoong stuttered, before sighing and trying again, “i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, y/n, you have no idea.”

your eyes filled with tears again as you looked forward, trying not to let him see.

“truthfully, i did think it would be better for you to leave but then you did leave and now i don’t know why!” he said, sniffling slightly and as you turned, you could see he was wiping away a couple tears secretly, “i’m an idiot. i know i am.”

you chuckled humourlessly, staring down at both of your feet. hongjoong was wearing his doc martens, you: your inside slippers.

“and i understand what i’ve done, so i understand if you wouldn’t take me back,” hongjoong said, nodding solemly as your eyes went to his face, watching for his expression, “but it’s been over a week now. it’s been eight days. and i have done zero work because every day i get home and i cry so hard because you’re not there. and every little thing that i didn’t want you to do before– i– i miss it so much.”

a tear fell down his face and you wiped it away, giving up on trying to control your own.

“i want you to come and make me tea and pastries and i want you to come and sit on my lap while i work and i want you to cuddle me when we’re asleep and i want you to clean me up after i’ve got wounds from a mission. i want it all! i want you.”

you sighed, “you didn’t like it before.”

hongjoong sniffled, tucking some hair behind your ear, “i did. god, i did. but after that defeat from stray kids, i felt inferior and so– so i brought the mafia leader image home as well. i wasn’t being kim hongjoong with you. but i am now, i am kim hongjoong and i want you back in my life. please.”

you wiped away his tears, placing a hand on his cheek and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“truthfully? i’ve been waiting for you every day since i left,” you sighed, “i didn’t even take all my stuff.”

hongjoong chuckled, “i thought you did that to be cruel.”

you laughed, climbing onto his lap, the way you used to when he was working, “i missed you, hongjoong. and i don’t just mean in the past week.”

hongjoong nodded, “i missed you, in the past week, more than i’ve ever missed someone before. but... i know, and i missed me too. i’m so, so glad to be back.”

you chuckled, kissing him again, “it’s good to see you again, hongjoong-ah. don’t go away again. promise?”

hongjoong smiled, linking his pinky finger with yours.

“i promise.”

165 notes · View notes

mando-abs · 3 years

Text

Dream Time with Abs

On this episode: First Dream with a young modern rebel Din Djarin

Context: I recently added the Session series by @mandocrasis on my TBR list and my brain said “Alright, bet.” and ran with the idea of it. So, I guess this dream is inspired by the series???? I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet. But, this dream was too good not to share.

Also 18+ warning - some sexual themes are mentioned in this dream but never actually put into motion.

The Story:

No idea why my dreams have been involving schools with varying age ranges lately but HERE WE GO.

It all started out with me in a gym class. I was talking to a group of chatty girls, and they started gossiping about the rebel Din Djarin. One girl, we’ll call her Stacy, mentioned how she wanted to quote “get in his pants.” I rolled my eyes at Stacy, and she got really defensive over it. To appease the Stacy, the girls decided that they would pass a note onto Din about which girl, me or Stacy, he would rather hook up with. (It’s so teenage lunchroom-esque. I love it)

I wasn’t too worried about it since I’m practically a nobody, but it still bothered me that they would send such a crude letter to him. But also, my brain really wanted to see this plot through, so I allowed it. The girls came back by the end of the day with huge grins on their faces. As it turns out, Din was more interested in me than Stacy. In fact, he had his eye set out for me anyways.

Now, I start panicking internally. Like, what? All I’ve heard are whispers about the guy and how popular he was (or unpopular, it’s never really discussed why he was the talk of the school). Why would he agree to hook up with a nerd like me? (Spoiler alert: that isn’t explained in this dream either, sorry)

Regardless, the girls were really excited for me and decided to help a girl out. They scouted the perfect classroom for me to stakeout in. It was currently being held by a class full of children (what kind of a school is this???), but, eventually, it would be empty, giving me the best opportunity to get my freak on. They even tried giving me pointers (in shushed voices of course) on how to, for lack of better terms, stick it in there in a classroom setting. Then, they just leave me there.

So there I was, sitting in this classroom full of children, waiting for Din to come do whatever with me. I was so incredibly nervous, constantly shifting in my seat. What was I even doing? But in my mind, to keep the dream going, I was like…

After waiting for a few minutes, Mr. Din Djarin finally walked into the classroom.

And when I tell you that this boy was so fine, that this boy was so scrum-dilly-icous… Let me paint you a picture of him. Din was much younger than he is typically. He was not like the man he is rn, he was a boy (still my age of course, but not aged like the fine wine he is in Mandalorian).

The best way to describe him is Pedro Pascal as he looked in Hermanas, but with a white t-shirt and leather jacket over it.

Wooooooo. Okay. Well, now I was trying to play it off cool to match his sick rebel vibes while simultaneously going into meltdown mode on the inside. He pulled up a seat next to me, placed his bag on the floor, and sat down.

“Hey,” he said all nonchalantly.

“Hey,” I said not so collected back at him.

“Looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

“Yeah… Got any homework you need to do?” 🤦🏻Nice one, nerd. God.

Din laughed, but not condescendingly so. It’s almost like he was actually relieved I was more concerned about his grades than having sex with him.

“Yeah, actually. I’ve got a quiz coming up.”

“Well, good then.”

So he got out his binder and started studying for some unknown quiz.

Now…this was the part I remembered the most because it felt so real. While we were sitting there as he was studying (and I nosily looking over his shoulder to see what he was studying), I got brave enough and held his hand. I physically felt his hand. I will not be able to forget his touch for a while. And all of you writers out there like to write Din and Pedro characters alike with large calloused hands (and respectfully so, most of his characters are hard workers). His hand was soft. It easily enveloped mine still, but they were gentle. I think he smiled out of the corner of his mouth, but I didn’t look at him as hard out of nervousness.

So we sat and sat, and sat some more with our hands locked like this. All the kids left, but the teacher still hung around. By that point, I was frustrated and really wanted the teacher to get lost. But, knowing Ms. Goody Two-Shoes me, I wouldn’t do that. I was more concerned about my parents not knowing where the hell I was.

I got to thinking. I whispered to Din. “You know, we don’t have to do this here. Maybe we can go somewhere away from here, away from student hangouts?”

“Well, I’ve got a truck. You wanna head out?” (Btw, I imagined rebel Din’s truck as Bella Swan’s old red Chevy truck…if that’s any interest to you…)

“Sure. Lemme just…” I got out my phone and texted one of my parents.

Hey! Going to get a bite with a buddy. Be home soon.

We headed out, hands still interlocked, with Din leading the way.

Now, this is the part we’re things get interesting. On our way out, I stopped dead in my tracks in front of one classroom door and made Din flip around due to the suddenness of it.

He looked confused at me. “What?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I heard there was a baby in art room class.”

Din raised his hands up like he was saying, “And?”

“Well, this is the art room.” I shuffled my feet. “And, I kinda want to see it.” I flashed a smile at him. But I didn’t even wait for his response, I just went in the classroom.

Din stood at the doorway confused for a moment. He straightened his jacket and acted like this was all a part of his plan. “I know my way around this place.” He didn’t.

When we both were in the room, we looked around to find the baby with a small cluster of students ogling at and playing with. And, to no surprise, it was Grogu. Grogu did not change his appearance in the dream AT ALL. We just all accepted the green skinned, bug eyed, pointy eared baby.

After Din and I spent a few moments cooing and making wiggly fingers at the baby, we went to go talk to the teacher about how cute the kid is and how proud he must be.

But the teacher was like, “Oh no. That’s not my baby. I’m just babysitting for a few days. That baby is on it’s way to back to be reunited with his cult.”

Din and I looked at the man like he was crazy. We then looked at each other a bit uneasy over it. This didn’t sit well with the two of us.

So instead of heading out to his truck, we went to go research more about this mysterious cult (I’m guessing at the library??? idk) As it turns out, this cult is notorious for stealing family’s’ babies, and adopts them into their own weird cult stuff.

Din and I looked up from the book we were reading in and stared at each other. We didn’t speak a single word to one another, but I knew we had one goal in common -

We were going to steal back a baby that night.

__________________________________________

And that’s it! That’s the dream! I hoped you enjoyed it. Uh, I wouldn’t expect an update dream as my dreams are very unpredictable and highly unstable. Hopefully I’ll get to see rebel Din again, and we go steal babies to bring back to their families. Maybe hold hands again, maybe have sex? Who knows! Cause I don’t 😀

#din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mando #mandalorian au #the mandalorian au #dream #inspired dream #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #this took way too long to write but I wanted it on record #this dream was way too elaborate not to write down

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mrs-geuse · 4 years

Text

Toys (Hank Anderson x Reader)

Anonymous requested: “Hank x reader where Hank is working on paperwork from home or on a work call at home or something and he catches reader playing with herself? I need something smutty with being stuck indoors. Only if it peaks your interest though!”

Pairing: Hank x fem!reader

Warnings: Language, Smut…this is smut.

Hank hates bringing work home with him, you know this, but nights like tonight he has to. There is something shady going on at Central Station and he doesn’t know exactly who he can trust. God forbid he walks away from his desk for a minute, leaves paperwork out, asks questions to the wrong coworker…

Something is going on and someone is covering it up and it maybe involves an android which seems to make Connor feel invested.

It’s late, really, way later than he wants to be working on this. His eyes burn from reading, and re-reading files he’d printed off before he left work.

A beer sits on the kitchen table, untouched. You’d popped the top for him before kissing his cheek and leaving him alone.

“Just a little bit, babe, I just…I gotta figure it out.”

It is rare seeing him this invested in his work, but you know when not to push so you sit in the living room, quietly petting Sumo and barely watching a movie.

Hank is way more interesting to you than this movie. He doesn’t even know you’ve been staring but you can’t help it; the focused look on his face, the knitted brow, the way he gnaws on his lower lip in concentration every so often…it’s unlike him and you are invested.

When Sumo lays down, you flop over on your belly, pulling the couch cushion under your chin as you snake your hand between your hips and the couch. Your fingers maneuver down until you press against your clit and bite your lip at the sensation.

Is this wrong? Weird? Maybe. But you were very aware that you’re ovulating and your sex drive increased significantly. You just hadn’t had the chance to tell your boyfriend – but a part of you wants to. You debate if you should share this information with the class just yet. On one hand, he’s been working for almost two hours and probably needs to knuckle down, on the other hand you really need him.

You figure you can last a little longer and you’re sure he is going to make it worth your time, he always does.

So, you settle for playing with yourself just a little.

The pressure in this position, with your palm cupped against your pubic bone, your fingers dancing across your clit – is the perfect sensation and always makes you come.

“Hey, y/n?” Hank’s deep voice startles you and you slip your hand away, pulling it back up to fold calmly under the pillow you’re lying face-down on. Hank glances over at you. “C’mere,” he says it gruff and you’re feeling even more aroused. Slowly, you rise and make your way to him, tentative steps. Had he seen? Is he going to make demands? Punish you?

“Yes?” you manage.

He doesn’t even glance at you. “These symbols were at the scene. I snagged a note off their desk and…does the writing look similar to you?”

The two items are vastly different mediums, and if you squint maybe you can see a similarity.

“Honestly, Hank, no…”

“Fuck,” he grumbles, balling the paper in his palm before tossing it toward the kitchen trash.

“Hey, honey, come to bed…you can look at this in the morning,” you’re kissing at his neck.

“Mmmm…” Hank’s moan shoots arousal to your core, like he’s aware of what he’s doing to you, like he enjoys it. “You know I’d like that very much,” he hums against your ear. “But m’so close, I can feel it.”

You try not to let his words bug you; you knew it was going to be longer of a wait and he would take care of you. Why are you rushing?

Only you can feel the heat pooling between your legs as you stood there and Hank rubs his beard, making that delicious scratching sound. You want his face between your legs but you know the second you said anything he’d be abandoning his work and maybe losing his hot streak of finding clues.

So, you tell him you’re going to take a shower. You need the space. The water is hot and you’re satisfied enough with his clean, fluffy towels you’d bought him. Not to mention your little friend…

Your vibrator had been shoved in a drawer in Hank’s room, but you manage to find the one you left at his place. Not your favorite, but it’ll get the job done.

You assume that this would satiate you for now and the water running would cut down on the hum…maybe Hank won’t hear.

It was like a little game: he always loved watching you pleasure yourself. You feel the same in regards to him. He’d shared, one drunken night together, that none of his other flames had ever been ‘interested enough’ to watch him wank it (his words, not yours)

There was something alluring about the whole thing. You love watching him pleasure himself, it gave fuel to your fire, let you see just how he likes to be touched, what speed he wants it, how hard…

Fighting the moan that threatens to leave your throat, you lean your head back against the wall of the shower. The vibrator is on the lowest setting and the speed is tantalizing. You want it faster, you want Hank.

“Fuck,” you huff, pressure building as you think of Hank’s fist closed around his cock – stroking – the muscles in his forearms…

With your free hand, you grasp at your hardened nipples, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger the way that Hank usually did.

And then…it stops.

Your eyes shoot open, blinded by the running shower water for a moment as you gaze down at the toy in your hand. The light no longer illuminated, you practically growl at the realization that you hadn’t charged it last use.

“God damn it…” you slam it on the shelf by the soap then let your hand fall back between your thighs. The frustration made you lose that edge and you sigh heavily. “Fuck me…”

You begin to wash your hair, mind drifting to thoughts of Hank taking you in the shower last week. Your arousal was overwhelming and one swift touch to your clit makes you hiss at the sensation.

By the time you start washing your body, you wonder how long the charge would take…could you use it while it charged?

And suddenly it hit you: the cock ring. You’d bought it for Hank as sort of a gag gift last Christmas. The two of you had a running joke that he was too girthy for a cock ring. You could remember the boisterous laugh he let out when he opened your gift.

Of course you tried it, it would have been a waste of money otherwise. But…it was a flop. Hank was, indeed, girthy and it made the thing…uncomfortable he said. Not painful, just not great.

You, however, enjoyed the vibrating feature on it.

It isn’t your first choice, but desperate times…it will have to do.

Quickly, you finish washing yourself. Water shut off, fluffy towel wrapped around yourself, you rush to dry off and make your way into Hank’s room.

In the kitchen, Hank sighs at the paperwork. His eyes are getting dry, beer warm by now.

When Hank’s phone rings, he reaches to answer it. Connor. Again. Third time in an hour.

“Damn it, you’re gonna need to cool it with these calls, Connor.”

He stands to put the beer in the fridge, phone pressed to his ear. Leaning back against the closed fridge, he listens to Connor ramble on and then pauses, pulling the phone from his ear for a second.

While he’d been reading, he must not have realized: the sound of the shower shut off. How long ago? Weren’t you going to come by and lay on the couch until he was done?

His mind trails to you slipping and hurting yourself and he pushes off the fridge to check on you.

And then he freezes.

Is that…

No.

Can’t be.

Quietly, Hank steps toward the hallway, listening in.

His bedroom door is open only a crack, which was odd. Taking a few quiet steps forward, he draws closer to the room and listens.

Fuck…

Tentative fingers press against the wood of the door, pushing gently so as not to make himself known.

Connor’s voice still drones on the phone but Hank is long past the point of paying attention.

Hungry eyes take in the scene before him: y/n lying on your back, head on his pillow, legs arched, fingers pressing his vibrating cock ring against your clit, a pleasured expression on your face in the dim light.

The hum of the vibration had alerted him in the kitchen and, fuck, are you in trouble…

Feeling bold, Hank forces the door open further, a resounding squeak making you jump.

You look like a sight; mouth an ‘o’ shape, rising to your elbows.

“Hank!” you gasp.

The man puts the phone back to his ear. “Connor, gotta go.” And he hangs up, slamming the thing on the wardrobe. “What do you think you’re doin’ in here, sweetheart?” his voice seems kind, even, but you can tell he’s a mix of irritation and arousal right now and you’re hoping to play on that latter half.

“Hank, I swear…I didn’t want to disturb you. I just…” he draws closer to the bed, looking contemplative, slightly menacing. “The-the shower. I was…in the shower and…an the vibrator it…lost its juice so I thought…” your sentence trailed off.

“You thought what, exactly?” his deep voice is right beside your ear as he snatches the cock ring from you, feeling your wetness having coated it. “Thought you’d take care of it yourself?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” you admit. “M’sorry, baby, I know how much you like to watch and I just…I couldn’t help myself. You looked so good sitting there, hard at work.”

He raises a brow at that and you realize for the first time tonight that Hank is extremely aroused, cock pressing harshly against the zip of his pants.

You watch him insert a digit into his mouth, tasting you from your wetness on the cock ring which still vibes in his hand. A deep moan leaves him, distracting you for a second. You’d been so damn close once again when he caught you and all you wanna do is come.

Abruptly, Hank presses the vibrating thing to your clit, rubbing deep circles and you fall back on the bed, hand reaching for his arm and clawing at the skin as his pressure is unrelenting.

“F-fuck, Hank…” you cry out.

“Now you’re going to continue and I’m going to watch,” he waits a little longer, lets the vibration do its thing, enjoys watching you writhe beneath him. He’s absentmindedly palming himself through his pants and his precum is leaving a wet mark in the jeans.

Thumb pressed to the toy, he slips a digit inside of you, arching it just the way he knows you like it. You’re practically crying at this point, so grateful to be so close to climax once again.

And then he’s gone as quickly as he comes and you let out an audible growl.

He’s across the room, sitting in a chair, fidgeting with his belt without taking his eyes off you. You can see how aroused he is and as his cock springs out of his boxers, he starts stroking himself.

He’s been kind enough to leave you the vibrating ring and you’re thankful but slightly disappointed. There’s something about Hank’s fingers, the way he can reach that spot inside of you, no problem. Even your fingers don’t do it justice – they’re too tiny whereas Hank’s fingers applying just the right amount of pressure sends you over the edge.

You’re disappointed too because you know how late it is and you know that after Hank comes all over his stomach or down his hand or – God-willing – on you, he’s going to want to go to sleep. It’s going to take a serious amount of begging to get him to fuck you, you’ve broken one of the few requests he has for you. You’d call it a rule, so would he, but you know he wouldn’t be bold enough to punish too harshly – it’s just not in him with you.

“What were you thinking about?” the pace his fist is at remains slow, tantalizing for the both of you.

“This. You, jerking it,” you bite your lip as you speak, aware of how stimulated these sexual, breathy conversations leave Hank. Maybe you’ll be able to get this to work out in your favor. “And…and you fucking me in the shower. And that position with my legs up, thighs against my chest, feet behind your head as you pound into me.”

That does it, Hank’s fist quickens its pace around his cock and you can see the precum oozing.

Fuck.

“Mmm…good. Good, sweetheart…” he grunts. “Why so needy tonight?”

You were close until he asks this question. “I’m ovulating, Hank.”

His pace falters just a moment but then he’s quickening his fist around his cock.

“Oh.”

Hank loves when you’re ovulating, loves how wet you are, how easily aroused, how desperate you are for him to slip his cock inside of you. He also loves that sometimes you’re too damn wet which makes it hard for him to feel too stimulated and so your romps sometimes last longer than usual.

And here you go, pleading with him to let you ride him.

“M’close, I won’t take long, I promise. Hank, please…” the thought of getting to come on his cock turns you on even more, makes you desperate.

You’re about to shift off the bed and make your way over to him, try to seduce him, but he’s onto your game faster than you expect.

“Ah, stay there, duchess. No. You come. Now.”

Nodding, you melt at the controlling tone. “Yes, sir.”

Fuck, Hank’s faltering at this; at seeing how desperate and eager you are. He can’t keep this façade up much longer. He wants to be in you more than anything right now. But he wants you to think he’s this cruel, wants to play with that edge a little bit more.

His cock twitches when he sees the normal tells that you’re close to an orgasm finally – he can imagine how frustrated you are. And, being the asshole he is, he wants to add to it.

Your toes are curling and he’s so fucking aroused right now…but he manages to pull it together before you come undone and rises to his feet, takes two steps toward the bed, startling you.

You look up at him with your big doe eyes and he almost comes right there on the bed.

“Lay back,” he instructs softly. You visibly shiver, doing so without hesitation. “Fuck, what a good girl,” he coos as he slowly undresses.

He doesn’t even mind that you’re still touching yourself as he does this. Awkwardly, he crawls onto the bed, insisting that you scoot over. You gaze at him, needy and desperate and begging for instructions.

“Ride me.”

You do as you’re told, easily straddling thick thighs to lower your dripping pussy down onto his hard shaft.

You both moan together and the feel of him filling you is almost too much, you almost come.

Shifting forward, you gaze up at him for permission, knowing that your clit just needs a little stimulation from his pubic bone as his cock penetrates you.

Normally, he’d let you, but this time he’s irked that you played with yourself without even the slightest inkling that you were worked up. And so he chooses to press his hand forward, placing his thumb on your clit. You gasp, grasping his hair and rocking your body onto him. He knows what you want, but you’re not getting it. You’re lucky you’re getting this, he figures.

Not to mention he needs you to come. Soon. Now.

He’s close, too close considering you just got started. But the way you’re rocking yourself on him at the current moment, he gave himself a pass. That added with your wetness during ovulation just tips him over the edge.

“M’close,” you say and it’s almost like a prayer, sounds a lot like ‘Hallelujah’ falling from your lips.

Hank watches you, wants to see it, that moment where you completely lose yourself and the pleasure overtakes you. That’s why he loves watching you masturbate. He doesn’t want you hiding your face or covering your mouth to quiet the noises. He wants you – all of you – and sometimes he loses that edge when he’s buried inside you.

“Come on, baby,” he eggs you on, knowing how much you enjoy that. And then, “Fuck, you’re milking my cock right now, honey…”

At that, you completely lose it, feeling the delicious pulse deep in you. Hank’s thighs are wet, your thighs are wet…

The feeling of your climax pushes Hank toward release too. He fucking loves the way you can’t seem to stay upright after an orgasm, loves how you snuggle against his chest and pepper kisses and bite and claw at him, loves the gasps and cries of his name…

Seconds after you’re spent, he’s spilling inside of you, gripping at your hips and moaning softly, head thrown back against the pillow. You love to see the pleasure on his face, to feel his warm release inside of you.

You’ll try not to get too excited about a baby in the next few weeks, just as you’ve done every month for the past six. Hank is convinced he’s ruined his sperm with his slip into alcoholism before you two started dating, but you assured him you weren’t worried.

It isn’t a priority right now and clearly you aren’t taking precautions, but…hey, the thought is always exciting. You know he’ll have a drink or several in the next few days, thinking about Cole but you will pick him up as you’ve done every month for the past six.

“Ah, God, fuck, I love you,” he mumbles as you collapsed next to him, still kissing at his neck and running a hand down his chest.

“I love you.”

“You know,” he sighs, watching as you drape your body over him, intertwining with him. He never gets used to the feel of you in bed with him. He’s still convinced it’s a dream. “I would’a stopped working the minute you said you were ovulating.”

You laugh. “Noted. Next time.”

“Next time,” he agrees.

#dbh #detroit become human #detroit become human reader insert #detroit become human fic #hank anderson #hank anderson x reader

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