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dead-man-in-the-grave · 11 months

Text

i won't announce my sheer decent (but holy fuck there will be signs) pt. II

(Cross-posted on AO3)

part one | part two (you are here)

Not long after Wilbur called Techno and Phil off the chase, it began to rain. Tommy's clothes were quickly soaked through, sticking to his skin and chilling him to the bone. He could barely feel his fingers anymore, let alone his toes.

He wandered the forest, not sure what he was meant to do next.

He couldn't go back to the Minecraft house, no way in hell. That's exactly what they wanted him to do.

But it's not like he could go back to his social worker either; they'd just bring him back to Phil and Phil would just tell them that he didn't want him. He'd end up back in the system. He'd rather live on the fucking streets than go back into the system.

But those were really his only options, weren't they? It's not like he had friends-

Wait a minute. He did have friends.

Tubbo and Ranboo.

They lived in the city, quite a ways away from the suburb where the Minecraft house resided, but Tommy could walk. He'd managed before, he could do it again.

He determinedly squared his shoulders and started walking back out of the forest.

The quicker he could get out of the rain, the better.

***

It took nearly two hours for Tommy to walk all the way to Ranboo and Tubbo's apartment. By the time he got there, the sun had long since set, but the rain refused to let up, beating down on him like there was no tomorrow.

The apartment complex his friends lived in was shoddy and run-down, but the rent was cheap -- or that's what he was told when he first came over and asked why the place was so dogshit -- and they could pay for it with just the money from their part-time jobs and Tubbo's occasional coding commissions. And the place allowed pets, which was apparently a must for any apartment the two of them shared.

Tommy trudged up the stairs, water dripping off his clothes and hair and soaking the floorboards below him. He could feel cuts and welts on the soles of his feet send sharp jolts of pain up his legs with every step he took. He sneezed, a shiver working its way up his spine.

He arrived outside his friends' door (which was painted in an absolutely hideous shade of faded maroon) and banged his fist on it as hard as he could.

He walked in the rain for two hours, he deserved to be a bit rude.

"Just a second!" Ranboo called from inside the apartment. A cacophonous clatter sounded from behind the door, followed by a cat's yowl.

The door flung open abruptly, revealing Ranboo dressed in a Lemon Demon sweater and holding a half-empty coffee mug. They looked like they were trying to pull an all-nighter and failing. Miserably. But hey, who was Tommy to comment on other people's appearances? He's the one that's sopping wet and barefoot.

"Oh, Tommy! What're you doing here?" They studied his state of sopping-wettedness for a moment, before continuing, "And… why are you soaking wet…?"

"Got caught in the rain," Tommy answered, not entirely untruthfully. "Can I borrow your shower? And possibly your couch?"

"Um, sure?" Ranboo stepped aside, allowing Tommy to walk inside the apartment.

"Boo! Who's at the door?!" Tommy heard Tubbo shout from the direction of the bedroom.

"It's me, bee boy!"

Tubbo was out in the living room in an instant.

"What the fuck are you doing here?! And why are you dripping water on the linoleum?" Tubbo didn't stop talking for long enough for Tommy to respond. "You know what, I don't care right now, the bathroom is over there-" he pointed just around the corner, "-I'll give you some of Ranboo's clothes to wear after you shower. Now, go!"

He shoved Tommy in the direction of the bathroom, and Tommy went with only a little bit of complaint.

The hot water was heavenly for the ten minutes that it lasted. After that, it turned freezing cold, and Tommy was quick to finish his shower. Tubbo or Ranboo must have come in without him noticing, because a pile of clothes that wasn't there before sat on the countertop. It was a plain black shirt, grey sweatpants, and a red hoodie, all belonging to Ranboo.

Tommy put on the clothes and found that, unsurprisingly, everything was too big on him. He made sure to tie the drawstring tight around his waist. Despite his best efforts, the cuffs of the pants still dragged on the floor.

He left the bathroom, dropping his old soggy clothes into the empty washing machine on his way past. Ranboo and Tubbo were sat on the couch, the TV playing a random channel while they were on their phone and laptop, respectively.

Tommy, without warning, flopped on top of his friends, head in Tubbo's lap and legs in Ranboo's. Michael, their cat, appeared from out of nowhere to curl up on Tommy's chest, never one to pass up cuddle time.

Ranboo simply sighed in defeat and returned to scrolling Tumblr (or whatever site it was that they used), while Tubbo gave him a light smack on the head. A 'light smack' from Tubbo still hurt like a bitch, though, so Tommy grumbled his wordless complaints.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have laid on me if you didn't want to get hit." Tommy only groaned in response.

Ranboo glanced up from their phone, "What are you doing here, anyway? Not that we don't want you here! But, just- why?"

"I was right," Tommy declared, "They really don't want me."

Tubbo tilted his head at him, eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know?" Tommy scowled in response.

"Because I heard Wilbur say to Phil that he, and I quote, 'can't wait until we aren't fostering him anymore', and, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted this'. How else can that be interpreted, huh?"

The others went quiet.

"Yeah. I thought so."

The air between them became heavy. The TV chattered indistinctly in the background. Michael stopped purring, as if sensing the tension.

"Um… yeah, that-"

"That's really shitty of them, bossman."

Tommy just sighed. He closed his eyes and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyelids until a colourful kaleidoscope appeared in his vision.

"I just wish- ugh, I'm being stupid."

"It's not stupid to want things, Tommy," Ranboo told him seriously. When both Tommy and Tubbo shot them a look, they explained, "My, uh- my therapist told me that. It's one of the things I keep in my memory book."

Tommy licked his lips nervously, psyching himself up to speak. He was never any good at emotional talks like these.

"I just wish they actually wanted me," he whispered, barely audible.

Tubbo's fingers slowly, ever so slowly, began carding through his hair. Tommy let out a shuddery breath, doing his best to choke back the tears that wanted to spring to his eyes.

"Oh, Tommy…"

"Can we just-" he interrupted, "Can we stop talking for a while?"

Tubbo looked at him sadly.

"Of course, Tommy."

Tubbo didn't stop running his fingers through his hair. Ranboo pat his leg in a way that was somehow both awkward and comforting. Michael began purring again, and Tommy lifted a hand to pet his fur.

He couldn't fight the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

***

They fell asleep that way, cuddled up together on the couch. Tubbo layed down on top of him, arms wrapped securely around his middle. Michael slept on the arm of the couch by Tommy's head. Ranboo remained on the other end of the couch, legs pulled up to their chest and head cushioned on their arms, which were resting atop their knees. It was nice.

And yet, Tommy wished it was Phil, Techno and Wilbur he fell asleep with instead.

But he could never have that again. They didn't need him, they didn't even want him. Not like he wanted them, not like he needed them.

Their lives would move on without him. Their world would keep spinning.

Tommy's remained stagnant.

Tommy poked Tubbo in the side, trying to wake him up, but the other teen only grumbled in his sleep.

He sighed, resorting to prying Tubbo's arms off his waist and wiggling his way out from under him. After several minutes of finagling, Tommy was free of his clingy prison.

The clock on the microwave read 10:38, a frankly unreasonable time to be awake if you asked Tommy. Usually on weekends, he'd sleep in until noon, at least.

Well, in Phil's house anyway. There was no way to tell what the next foster house's rules would be.

Maybe he'd have to get up at 5:30 sharp every day again. That would suck.

Stop thinking about it.

Tommy sighed again -- he seemed to be doing that a lot these days -- and headed for the fridge. If he was going to be crashing at his friends' place for a while, he might as well make it worth it for them.

He scrambled six eggs, two for each of them, and set the plates out on the table. He put ketchup on Ranboo's, since that heathen would only eat eggs with ketchup. Eugh, disgusting.

He walked back over to the couch and nudged Ranboo awake.

"Ranboo. Boo. Boob boy." He punctuated each word with a prod. They woke up with a snort, lifting their head from their arms and blinking blearily.

"Tommy? Wha-"

"I made breakfast," Tommy interrupted, "Wake up or I'll eat yours." He paused. "Actually, I'll eat Tubbo's, yours has ketchup in it. Gross."

Ranboo rolled their eyes at him, but got up and went over to the kitchen table obligingly.

Tommy didn't even attempt to poke Tubbo into wakefulness, he knew it wouldn't work. Instead, he just grabbed his friend under the armpits and dragged him off the couch and over to the table.

Once he was at the table, the aroma of freshly scrambled eggs in his nostrils, Tubbo awakened.

And immediately began stuffing his face.

Tommy couldn't say he was surprised. At least none of the eggs he used would go to waste.

"D'oo make fis 'ommy?" Tubbo said, mouth full. Tommy nodded, taking a bite of his own breakfast.

"You didn't have to, y'know," said Ranboo, who'd already finished their breakfast. Tommy deflated a little at their words. Their eyes widened, and they backpedalled a bit. "Um! Not to sound ungrateful or anything, thank you, really! But uh, just because you spent the night doesn't mean you have to make food for us."

"Yeah, bossman," Tubbo agreed after swallowing his mouthful. "Thanks, the eggs are delicious, but you don't have to repay us for letting you stay or whatever."

Tommy decided, internally, that he'd do it anyway. If he made food for them, then they'd want him. Then they'd need him.

They'd need him like he needed them.

If only that would work for-

Stop it.

"Sure," he agreed obligingly. He'd do it anyway, but he didn't need to tell them that.

The rest of the morning went similarly. Tommy insisted on doing the dishes for them, and then did all the laundry (washing, drying, folding even), and made lunch without telling the others until he was done -- it was PB&J, nothing fancy, it was really one of the very few foods he could actually make without instructions.

Tubbo, again, told him that he didn't need to work for them to earn his keep. Tommy, quite honestly, thought that was bullshit. He kept his thoughts to himself, though.

He continued doing odd jobs well into the night. From fixing the bedroom's squeaky door hinge to reorganising the TV cables, Tommy never stopped working. Ranboo managed to make spaghetti for dinner while he was distracted with the clogged bathroom sink drain, but he grabbed all the dirty forks and plates afterwards and washed them before anyone could protest.

"Tommy," Tubbo said, grabbing Tommy's attention before he could find something else to fix, "You can stop. Please, Boo and I don't want you to act like a maid. This is the cleanest the apartment's been since we got it! You can chill!"

"I- I just need something to keep myself busy," Tommy responded, swallowing down the guilt at lying to his friend.

"Please, Tommy."

Tommy hung his head in defeat.

"Okay," just for now, he didn't say.

Tubbo took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom, where Ranboo had already passed out. The shorter teen climbed in first, situating himself in the middle of the bed. Ranboo, in their sleep, cuddled closer to Tubbo and made a noise of contentment.

Tubbo patted the open space on the bed invitingly. Tommy clambered in after him, laying down and letting Tubbo pull the comforter over him. The bed was a queen, if Tommy guessed correctly. There definitely should not have been enough space for the three of them, but Ranboo and Tubbo, being snuggled together as they were, took up the amount of space one person normally would've.

Tommy made sure he kept an invisible barrier between himself and Tubbo. He could tell his friend was hurt, despite Tubbo doing his best to hide it.

"Goodnight, Tommy."

"'Night, Tubs."

Tommy couldn't sleep that night.

He twisted and turned, he kicked off the covers and then pulled them back up, he tried every sleeping position imaginable, but nothing worked. His thoughts were going a million kilometres a minute and showed no signs of slowing. Tommy could practically feel the bags under his eyes.

When the sun rose, the clock read 6:34, and Tommy hadn't slept a wink.

With an exhausted sigh, he climbed out of bed and went to make himself useful.

He still hadn't cleaned the oven and fridge yet, and there was a bit more laundry to do.

***

Monday rolled around, and Tommy remembered with dismay that Wilbur and Techno went to his school. They would see him and almost certainly try to talk to him. He couldn't talk to them, he couldn't take the verbal -- and, quite possibly physical -- abuse they'd throw at him.

He debated pretending to be sick, but he knew that would just make Tubbo and Ranboo worry about him, so he decided he'd just avoid them like the plague.

It couldn't be too hard, right?

***

Tommy cursed his past self. Those were famous last words, and he thought them anyway.

Damnit.

Techno and Wilbur seemed to be searching for him just as passionately as he was avoiding them. At multiple moments, they came mere milliseconds away from spotting him. He had to duck behind Ranboo more times than he could count to avoid their vigilant gazes.

Both his friends gave him sad looks whenever he did it.

Tommy hated them for it.

He skipped lunch, much to his stomach's chagrin. Having three full meals a day spoiled him, he'd better get into the habit of only eating once or twice a day again before the next house forces him to.

He spent the allotted lunch time in the library, flipping through the pages of random books that caught his interest.

A book of birds had called to him, and he had it open in his lap as he sat on the floor. He came across the page for crows.

He couldn't help likening the crow wing diagrams to Phil's wings.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about them?

The bell rang, sharp and piercing. He put the book back on the shelf and trudged to his next class.

***

It was Thursday when he was caught.

He was in the library instead of the cafeteria for lunch, reading an autobiography of some kind (he wasn't really reading it, just skimming the words enough to keep his mind off the hunger pains in his gut). It was a new normal for him.

The door opened.

Nobody else should've been in the library during lunch. Tommy wasn't supposed to be in the library during lunch.

Tommy dove behind the nearest bookshelf, crouching low to the ground, ready to move at a moment's notice.

As long as it wasn't who he thought it was, he'd be okay.

"I know you're in here, Tommy."

Fuck, that was Wilbur. He was screwed.

"I- I just wanted to say sorry for whatever upset you last Friday-" Why did he sound so sad? It was infuriating. "-and we noticed you left your phone at home."

Why was Wilbur talking about his phone? Was he going to break it right in front of Tommy's face, just because he could? Try and lure him out with it? Well, too bad, 'cause it wasn't going to work.

"Uh- Phil thought it'd be a good idea to give it back to you, but we haven't been able to find you all week, and uh- well, it's on this table, so… um… you can have it back now," Wilbur said.

Tommy peeked around the bookcase, and saw Wilbur set his phone down on the table closest to the door. Wilbur took one last glance around the library, eyes completely missing Tommy, and sighed. He left, and Tommy waited for his footsteps to completely fade before leaving his hiding spot.

He walked up to the table that his phone rested on.

The device was sitting face-down on the table, so he couldn't see the screen, but that was definitely his phone case, at least.

Tommy glanced around, wary of any lingering eyes, but he was well and truly alone.

He turned the phone over with a cautious hand and inspected the screen for the familiar cracked pattern. Sure enough, it was his phone and not a decoy of some kind.

He turned on the screen and unlocked it with his ten-digit PIN -- he was not paranoid, he just didn't want anyone going through his phone. His suspended apps were the exact same as he left them, the full apps list didn't show any unfamiliar icons, and everything seemed untouched.

He still turned off his location, just in case.

***

Tommy didn't see hide nor hair of Wilbur or Techno on Friday.

It was odd. For the past week, it seemed like he was seeing nothing but the two of them, and now they were gone.

Not that Tommy was complaining. It meant he could finally safely sit in the cafeteria with Tubbo and Ranboo again, though he didn't eat. He still had to get used to less than three meals a day, after all.

After school, the trio took the bus back to their apartment, where Tommy immediately started looking for something to fix, clean, or help out with. After a full week of crashing there and doing the same routine every day, there really wasn't much else he could do, though.

Maybe he could regrout the bathroom tiles?

"Tommy, wait-"

Tommy turned to look at Tubbo. He could just barely see the concern in his friend's eyes from under his fringe.

"You're not doing any more chores around here," Tubbo told him firmly, "I won't let you."

"But-"

"No buts, Tommy. You need to chill. You've been doing everything that could possibly be done around here. You even regrouted the kitchen tile! Were you planning on regrouting the bathroom, too?"

Tommy looked away guiltily. Tubbo knew him way too well.

"Yeah, that's not happening. We're all going to sit on the couch and put on the worst movies imaginable, and we're going to point and laugh at them. Right, Boo?"

Ranboo, who had been standing very awkwardly behind Tubbo during the whole interaction until that point, vigorously nodded their head in agreement.

Fucking simp.

Without another word, Tubbo grabbed both of them by their wrists and made them sit on the raggedy old couch while he put the Bee Movie VHS in the player and rewound it to the beginning.

Why Tubbo had the Bee Movie on VHS remained a mystery to Tommy.

They sat through the entirety of the Bee Movie, laughing at the absurdity of the thing.

"The bees just- what? Sued all of humanity? For stealing honey? And it worked!?" Ranboo, in particular, was very worked up about the plot consistency. Tommy thought their ramblings were funnier than the movie.

"Well, yes, what else were they to do?" Tubbo asked, clearly trying to work them up more. Somehow, it worked, and they fell for the obvious bait.

"Anything but that!?!? Tubbo- Tubbo, you're the bee guy, you know that human-kept bees and their beekeepers have a symbiotic relationship. Humans only take about half of the total honey made by the hive, and grant protection that normal beehives just don't have!" They said, frantically scrolling through Wikipedia to factcheck. "The bees could just leave! They don't even have to stay in the human-kept hives! There is nothing stopping them!!"

"Maybe the bees are just dumb," Tommy suggests. Tubbo turned to gasp in offence, while Ranboo only hung their head in complete and utter defeat.

"You will not talk about bees that way!"

"I just did." Tommy smiled, all teeth. "Whatcha gonna do 'bout it?"

He promptly took a pillow straight to the face.

"Oh, you should not have done that."

Tommy and Tubbo quickly devolved into an all-out, no holds barred, pillow war. Not a pillow fight, mind. It was far too serious to be called something as silly as a pillow fight. Tubbo was collecting pillows from anywhere he could find them in order to make a defensive wall. Meanwhile, Tommy tried his best to beat him to death with just one pillow and sheer force of will. Ranboo, in the chaos, managed to escape to the bedroom.

Pussy.

Tommy would deny the incredibly manly shriek that escaped him when a nerf dart nailed him right between the shoulder blades until his dying breath.

Tommy spun around and came face-to-face with his worst nightmare.

Ranboo with a nerf gun.

"Uh," said Tommy, very eloquently, if he did say so himself, "Team?"

"I'm sorry, Tommy," they said, raising their gun, "It's neef or noth."

They shot him right in the stomach.

Tommy shrieked again, collapsing to the floor like the dramatic bitch he one hundred percent is not (no matter what Tubbo says).

***

Tommy slept until 5 PM on Saturday, fatigue from doing every chore imaginable, plus hiding from Wilbur and Techno during school, plus the pillow war from the previous night finally catching up to him.

Every one of his joints ached, all of his muscles twinged with pain when he even attempted to move them. His throat was sore and voice rough from all of the screaming he'd done the night before.

It's the worst Tommy's felt without being properly sick in a long time.

He thought the last time he felt this bad was the day before he was placed in Phil's house.

The house before Phil's had not had very kind parents.

Cut it out. Stop.

Back to Tommy's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad DayTM, Tubbo had come into the room about twenty minutes ago with "food".

Tommy wouldn't go so far as to call it food though. Hence the air quotes.

It was white bread -- yes, bread, not even toasted or anything -- with baked beans and horribly undercooked mini sausages on top. Even when Tubbo first gave it to him, it was cold, and now even more so. It looked vile.

Tubbo really, really, could not cook. He was worse than Ranboo, and they could only make spaghetti and cake (as long as it was from a pre-prepared cake mix).

Truly, Tommy was their only salvation.

Needless to say, Tommy could not eat the rancid so-called "food" Tubbo had cooked up, but he also couldn't get up to make his own food, either, and Ranboo was unavailable on account of them being at the store restocking their food supply. Which left Tommy on his own.

Fantastic.

"Tubbooo!" Tommy called out, voice cracking slightly from the strain.

Tubbo's hoofsteps could be heard from the other side of the apartment, sprinting towards the bedroom.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang.

"Tommy! What's wrong, are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance?" Tommy rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, Tubso. I just can't eat this." He raised the plate of dubious "food" for his friend to see. "It's cold and the sausages are undercooked and you didn't even toast the bread, you heathen."

Tubbo crossed his arms, "You just have shit taste in food."

"Wha- I have shit taste in food?!" Tommy screeched, aggravating his already sore throat, "I'm not the one that eats cold baked beans and undercooked sausages on bread!"

"Yeah, which means you have shit taste!"

"Oh that's it-"

Tommy was interrupted in his preparations to launch at Tubbo, muscle fatigue be damned, by the front door of the apartment opening.

"Tubbo! Come help me with groceries!" Ranboo called. Then, quieter, "Please oh my god this stuff is heavy-"

"We're not done here, we'll talk about this later," Tubbo said with a glare, far too dramatic to be serious.

"Tubbo!!" Ranboo shouted again.

"Coming!"

Tubbo left the room the same way he'd entered; in a dead sprint and slamming the door.

Tommy found himself rolling his eyes at his friend's antics.

***

He eventually did get food that wasn't a crime against humanity, but it was still just spaghetti. Curse Ranboo and their refusal to learn to cook anything else.

He quickly fell asleep after that, at the disgraceful hour of 8 PM.

Like, seriously, he had a reputation, he was Big Man Tommy Innit. Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit. And he did not go to bed at 8 PM.

Well, it was a one-time thing, anyway. No one else had to know.

Sunday morning, Tubbo and Ranboo pulled him out of bed and onto the couch, saying they needed to have a, quote, "important talk". Tommy, in his infinite wisdom, thought it was stupid.

He wasn't nervous. He wasn't.

It's just… well…

"Important talks" never really went well for him.

So there he sat, squished between Tubbo and Ranboo on the couch, Michael purring up a storm in his lap. He swore that the cat could smell his anxiety.

"Sooo…" Tommy said, full attention on Michael's fur. The cat was shedding a bit more than usual. He needed to be brushed soon. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Do you want to go out today, Tommy?"

Tommy blinked in confusion, lifting his eyes from the cat and meeting Tubbo's gaze.

"Why? Where would we go?"

Tubbo looked up at him blankly. Tommy glanced at Ranboo for an explanation, but only got another blank look.

"Tommy," Ranboo said, voice uncomfortably pitying, "What's today's date?"

"The ninth of April? What's that got to do with anything?"

Tubbo looked constipated. Tommy said as much. Tubbo just ignored him and shook his head. "Okay, well, do you want to go out or not? We could go shopping, or to McDonald's, or even just to a park or something."

"Or maybe to the museum?" Ranboo suggested, "We have enough money for three tickets as long as Tubbo pretends he's eleven."

They were both acting so fucking sus. Tommy didn't like it.

Neither of them would ever offer to spend money unnecessarily, their bank account just couldn't afford to. Why the fuck were they doing it now?

"Why are you offering to spend money on me?" Tommy asked bluntly. "Is it some kind of pity thing? Or repayment for the chores? Because if it is, I'm not going anywhere."

Tubbo looked completely bewildered, as though he'd never even considered that to be a possibility. Tommy supposed that meant he wasn't lying; Tubbo was never a very good actor.

"It's not, I swear," Tubbo told him, mouth set in a firm line, "We just want to treat you to some time out of the apartment. That's not school, anyway."

Tommy supposed that answer made some amount of sense.

(His verdict was not influenced by him going somewhat stir crazy from being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn't and anyone who said it was is a liar.)

"Alright," said Tommy, satisfied, "I want to go to McDonald's then."

"Of course you want to go to McDonald's," Ranboo, the local McDonald's hater, said under their breath. Tommy glared at them.

How someone could hate McDonald's baffled Tommy. McDonald's was the best.

"Alright!" Tubbo clapped his hands and stood from the couch, dragging Tommy up by the wrist to stand with him. "We're going to McDonald's, then!"

"Yippee," said Ranboo, completely monotone.

***

They all piled into Ranboo's car for the five minute drive to the nearest McDonald's. Tommy was honestly unaware that they even could drive, but he supposed it made sense. They were always the one to be sent out to get stuff from the store and whatnot.

They parked the car in the nearest parking spot, and everyone got out. Tommy was jittery with excitement. He hadn't had proper fast food in so long. The mere idea of it made his mouth water.

Tommy bolted for the entrance, Tubbo hot on his heels. Ranboo followed at a much more sedated pace.

They looked nauseous just setting foot in the building.

Tommy ordered a Big Mac meal, with a large fry and a coke. Tubbo decided on a ten-piece chicken McNugget after several minutes of internal (and external) debate. They each got a McFlurry, as the ice cream machine was miraculously unbroken.

Ranboo, unsurprisingly, got nothing, because they were a weirdo.

All of the food totaled out at a fairly reasonable £14.77, and despite not getting anything, Ranboo pulled out their debit card and paid for it.

What a strange, strange person Ranboo was.

Tommy all but inhaled his food the second he got it, Tubbo not far behind. While he and Tubbo pigged out, Ranboo shot them the most uncomfortable and disgusted look Tommy had ever seen anyone make before -- and he'd seen the faces people made after catching him eating out of the trash -- from across the table.

Tommy made sure to flip them off and chew louder in response.

They left McDonald's in just over half an hour of getting there. Ranboo visibly relaxed as they drove out of the parking lot.

All in all, it was a successful McDonald's trip.

Tommy didn't notice that they weren't driving back to the apartment until it was too late.

They rolled to a stop, and only then did Tommy look out the window.

The car was parked in Phil's driveway.

A pit opened in Tommy's stomach. Suddenly, it felt like all the food he'd just eaten was going to make an unpleasant return.

"Why are we here…?"

Tubbo, beside him in the backseat, tried to take Tommy's hand in his own. Tommy ripped it away from him and cradled it to his chest.

"Toms-"

"Don't fucking 'Toms' me, Tubbo, why the fuck are we here?!"

Tommy's lungs weren't working right, he thought. It felt like he couldn't get a full breath in. His throat was tight, it hurt to speak. That didn't stop him from screaming at his "friends" though.

"What the fuck is wrong with you two?! I thought we were friends!"

"Tommy, we are your friends-"

Anger burned hot in his chest, bubbling up behind his ribcage alongside the bone-chilling fear he felt in that moment.

"Then why. Are. We. Here?!"

"Because Phil asked us to bring you!" Tubbo shouted back. Tommy staggered back, not expecting to be shouted back at.

Something hot and wet spilled down his face.

Tears. Those were tears.

"I don't wanna be here," Tommy sobbed, startling everyone with the disparity of it, including himself, "Please- please… I don't- I-"

"We're sorry, Tommy," Ranboo said through Tommy's open door. When had they gotten out of the car? Or opened Tommy's door?

Tommy's pretty sure they said something else, but his brain had officially checked out for the day, apparently. Tears kept falling from his eyes, but he felt detached and a bit floaty. Ranboo's mouth was moving, and Tommy could hear them speak, but the words just didn't… register.

He found he didn't particularly care.

Why was he crying, again?

Tommy blinked, and between the time he closed his eyes and opened them again, he was in an entirely new location.

Instead of Ranboo's car, Tommy found himself curled in the foetal position on familiar red and white bedding. He was in his bed in Phil's house, his brain absently connected. There were, somehow, still tears lazily dribbling from his eyes.

Tommy's hand seemed to move of its own accord, smoothing out a wrinkle in the comforter.

His eyes slipped closed, but he did not sleep.

Someone entered his room, at some point (how long had it been since- since… since what?) and talked for a bit. The words were nothing but white noise to him, but whoever it was had a very nice voice, so Tommy didn't mind too much. He was content to listen to the musical lilt to the speaker's tone.

The person with the nice voice eventually left. Tommy whined in the sudden silence.

There were two others that came in and talked. One with a low rumbley voice that made him feel warm, and another with a higher pitched voice that had an odd tonality that made him think they probably had an accent.

Tommy thought all their voices sounded good.

The three of them came in and talked to him, and even though he had no clue what they were saying, it was nice to know that they were nice enough to keep Tommy, of all people, company.

Slowly, slowly, Tommy started to come back to himself. He clenched his hands into fists and then stretched them out, over and over, counting the amount of times he'd done the motion.

Finally, he felt like his body was his own again.

He sat up in bed -- his bed, his bed in Phil's house, why was he back at Phil's? -- and looked around the room.

It was the exact same as he'd left it, aside from the light film of dust that covered every surface. The piano sat against the wall, all his books were where they were meant to be on the shelf, his PC was still sitting unlocked on the desktop.

Henry and Duffle were both cradled in Tommy's arms. He hadn't even realised he was holding them.

A knock sounded at the door, and a moment later it swung gently open, revealing Wilbur.

Oh. Shit.

"You're up," Wilbur said, surprise clear in his voice. Tommy licked his lips, but just nodded instead of attempting to speak. "Well, that's better than you've been in the past nine hours."

"Nine hours-'' Tommy's exclamation was cut off by a sudden coughing fit, wracking his whole body with the force of it. He was vaguely aware of Wilbur getting close enough to rub soothing circles on his back.

"Should I get Phil?" Wilbur asked, voice thick with worry.

"Don't get Phil," Tommy demanded, before coughing some more into his fist.

They didn't speak again for a while, even after Tommy had come down from his coughing fit. The silence was deafening; Tommy's ears started ringing.

Wilbur, eventually, stood up. He was trying to hide it, but Tommy could see the way his hands were shaking.

"I'm just… gonna go. Now."

Tommy didn't stop him.

***

Techno came in a short while later with food.

Tommy couldn't force himself to eat it.

***

Phil didn't show up for a while. Tommy believed Wilbur had told him that Tommy didn't want to see him. Which was great! Wonderful! He didn't want to see Phil, and Wilbur told him that, so Phil didn't come to see him.

He simultaneously hated Wilbur for it and wanted to thank him.

But, eventually, Phil did have to show up. And "eventually" just so happened to be right now.

Phil stood in the doorway, wings fluffed up behind him. With his wings like that, he blocked the entire doorway. Tommy did his best to not show how tense he was because of it.

"Hey, Tommy."

Tommy just stared.

Phil cleared his throat, "Can I come in?" Tommy scoffed.

"It's your house, innit?"

"But it's your room."

"I don't see why that matters." Phil went quiet, head tilted to the side. He'd decided to act like a fucking bird again, Tommy saw. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "You can come in, I guess. Might as well get this over with…"

Phil stepped into the room and finally unblocked the door. Tommy steadfastly ignored the way his shoulders relaxed, and instead chose to focus on Phil's every move.

"Are you feeling better now? We think you had a dissociative episode back there." Phil stood about a foot away from the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. "You scared Wil about half to death."

"Yeah, sure I did," Tommy sneered, "What should I care?"

(Tommy did care. A lot. It was honestly kind of annoying how much he cared.)

Phil sighed. His wings ruffled behind him, feathers fluffing up and then resettling. He moved over to the bed and sat down, leaving Tommy just out of his arms reach.

"What's wrong, mate?" Phil asked.

Tommy debated not answering. Like, seriously, what was he gonna do if he didn't answer?

He might get hit, his subconscious reminded him. Phil had never hit him (or Wilbur or Techno for that matter), but the possibility was always there. And before, he didn't have a reason to hit Tommy.

If he didn't answer, then he would have a reason.

"Why are you acting like you care?" Tommy asked after a long internal debate, "You're gonna send me back to my social worker. Why put in all this effort?"

Phil looked genuinely taken aback, whether by Tommy answering in the first place or the words themselves, he didn't know.

"We do care about you, Tommy. And we're not going to send you back to your social worker," Phil said, and it was so clearly a lie, but Tommy wanted to believe him anyway. He so, so desperately wanted to believe them. But his trust had been broken a few too many times for that. "Why would we do that?"

"Because you don't want to foster me anymore. I'm not stupid. I heard what Wilbur said."

Realisation dawned on Phil's face like a sunrise.

And then he laughed.

This was it. He was going to drop the act. Finally, Tommy could stop walking on eggshells, he could stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He felt like he was gonna be sick.

"Tommy," Phil said, tone all too fond. It made Tommy want to vomit. "We don't want to foster you anymore-"

He fucking knew it. He knew it was too good to be true.

Bile rose in the back of his throat, but Phil was still talking, so he swallowed it down.

"-because we want to adopt you," Phil finished, "Wilbur is just shit at words."

…Wait. Back up, rewind.

'-because we want to adopt you.'

Tommy must have been hearing things, because Phil could not have just said that.

Wilbur wanted Phil to adopt him? Him, Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit, wife haver and annoying kid -- not a kid -- supreme? Tommy, who'd been kicked out of god-knows how many foster homes in the past, and never planned on having a family of his own? Tommy, who knew how to run away and live on the streets for months at a time because it was preferable to some of the houses he'd been put in?

Maybe they'd confused him for some other tall blond kid named Tommy that they fostered.

…

Yeah, no, even he knew he was fooling himself with that one.

But what other explanation was there? They weren't supposed to want him, and yet they did anyway. And even if they tricked themselves into wanting to adopt him, they should have known how bad and disobedient he was. He ran away from them, for god's sake!

Tommy's head was spinning.

It just… It didn't make sense.

"Why?" Tommy found himself asking.

Phil hummed, tapping a clawed finger to his chin in an over-exaggerated thinking motion.

"Because you complete the family dynamic?" Phil offered, "Because we like you for you, because Wilbur always wanted a little brother, and you fill the role perfectly, because Techno is attached even though he won't admit it, because I missed having a fledgling in the nest… I could go on."

Tommy felt a fire ignite in his chest, small and flickering, but there all the same.

"Oh yeah!" Phil continued, wings fluttering happily, "And because we love you!"

The fire burned hot and bright, as though it had been doused in gasoline, hot enough to melt away any lingering fear and doubt.

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do!"

Phil brought a hand up to Tommy's head, threading his fingers though Tommy's tangled curls. Tommy melted into the affection, leaning all his weight into Phil's side, emotionally and physically exhausted.

Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit-Minecraft would be a pretty poggers name, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

***

"That is a lot of fucking papers."

Phil sighed, looking down at the stack of papers he'd set on his desk. They were all adoption and foster papers, all of them filled out and signed by Phil (and Tommy, when applicable).

"It is a lot of fucking papers, and I had to fill out every one of them." Tommy cringes.

"Sounds like rotten work," he tells Phil seriously.

"Not to me. Not if it's for you."

Tommy pauses, studying Phil's face for a moment.

"Did you just quote Pylades at me?"

"Paraphrased it, actually. I didn't say the exact words," Phil grinned. "And you're the one that said 'it's rotten work'."

"Yeah, because doing all that paperwork sounds like actual hell on earth," Tommy argued, just for the sake of it.

It was nice to know he could joke around like this, that he wasn't going to get hit for speaking out of turn or insulting someone. He could get used to it.

He would get used to it. They were adopting him!

It still didn't quite feel real.

Heavy hoofsteps stomped up the stairs, approaching at a rapid pace. A lighter set of footsteps followed the first, moving just as quickly.

Phil's office door swung open, revealing Techno in all his pink-haired glory, Wilbur standing behind him.

"Are you talking about Greek mythology in here?" Techno asked, a crazed look in his eye, "Without me?!"

"Phil started it!" Tommy shouted. He ran up to his brothers, grabbing both of them by their sleeves and dragged them into the room. "He par-a-phrased Pylades at me."

"You're the one who pointed it out, gremlin." Phil ruffled his hair affectionately. Tommy absolutely, one-hundred percent did not lean into the touch.

Oh, who was he kidding, of course he leaned into it.

"Tubbo and Ranboo are downstairs playing Mario Kart," Wilbur told them, "D'you wanna come back down with us and join? Get out of this stuffy office and away from that boring paperwork?"

"My office is not stuffy-" Phil tried to protest. Wilbur ignored him.

"We were thinking about ordering pizza, too."

Tommy bounced on his toes, excitement manifesting in little hand flaps.

"I want Hawaiian!" Tommy declared. He grabbed Wilbur's sleeve, pulling the man down to stare him in the face. "We're getting Hawaiian." Wilbur recoiled away, lip curling in over-exaggerated disgust.

"Hawaiian?! Fucking gross, Tommy, ham and pineapple?! On pizza?!"

"Pineapple is good, man!" Tommy yells back. "Wilby, it's not my fault your taste buds are broken."

Wilbur went silent, staring at him, mouth slightly agape. Tommy looked to Techno and Phil, who'd started grinning and snickering, respectively. Tommy decided to ignore them.

"Wilbur? Are you-"

"Did you just call me Wilby?" Wilbur shouted suddenly. Tommy spluttered in response.

"I didn't call you Wilby!"

"No, you definitely did," he insisted.

"I didn't! Your ears must be broken too now, you're hearing things." Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, turning his face away from Wilbur in an attempt to hide his burning face and ears. "We need to get you hearing aids, you're becoming an old man like Phil."

Wilbur had seemingly chosen to ignore Tommy's insults, instead choosing to prod him in the side and keep teasing him.

"Aww, Tommy! You can call me Wilby if you want."

"I don't want to call you that," Tommy denied, "And I didn't call you Wilby!"

The burning in his cheeks said otherwise.

Wilbur laughed at his expense. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Tommy dropped his head onto his brother's -- his brother's, how poggers was that?! -- collarbone and groaned in annoyance. Wilbur rested his chin on Tommy's head, humming happily.

"So…" Techno interrupted, "are we orderin' pizza or not?"

"Hawaiian," Tommy mumbled into Wilbur's chest. Wilbur lifted his chin from Tommy's head and pulled away enough to ruffle Tommy's hair. Tommy squawked indignantly, trying and failing to bat Wilbur's hand away.

"You're not going to have an entire pizza to yourself, child."

"Oh yeah? Says who?"

"Says me," Phil cut in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Tommy and Wilbur pulled fully apart, and Tommy grabbed the sleeve of Wilbur's sweater again. "You can get half-Hawaiian and half-cheese to share."

Wilbur and Tommy groaned in unison. Phil rolled his eyes.

"Keep complaining and I'll get you both an anchovy and olive pizza." Tommy faked a gag. "That's what I thought."

***

The pizzas arrived at their door half an hour later. They had switched from Mario Kart to Super Smash Bros a few minutes ago, because apparently there was only so many times Tubbo could come last in Mario Kart before he started trying to strangle people.

He wasn't much better at Smash Bros though, if Tommy was honest.

Phil brought the pizzas into the kitchen, deliberately walking slowly directly in front of the TV, just to be annoying.

"Phil! You're blocking the screen!"

"You'll survive."

"Aaauuuugghhhhhhhh-"

Phil finally got out of the way, and Toon Link instantly hit Isabelle straight off the edge of the map.

"NO!" Tommy screamed at the same time as Tubbo screamed, "YES!"

Ranboo sat quietly, still struggling to figure out the controls while Techno patiently coached him through it.

"How many slices do you want, Toms?" Phil called from the kitchen.

"All of them, I'll eat all of- Fuck you, Technoblade!" Tommy yelled as Kirby threw Isabelle past the edge of the screen and she exploded.

"You're getting two!" Phil shouted back. "Wil! come out here and help me with this, would you?"

"Aw, I was having fun watching Tommy get his ass beat," Wilbur sighed, forlornly watching the screen and moving as slowly as possible on his way to the kitchen. Ranboo, playing as Peach, pulled off a combo attack against Isabelle as Techno told him the buttons to press, Tommy screeching obscenities all the while.

The match ended a minute later, Techno in first, Tommy in second, Ranboo in third, and Tubbo dead last.

"Techno barely even did anything last round, how's he in first?!" Tubbo shouted. Techno shrugged.

"Cracked at the game," was all he offered before getting up and following Wilbur out to the kitchen. Tommy, Ranboo, and Tubbo set down their controllers and followed suit.

Phil gave Tommy a plate that already had two slices of Hawaiian on it, and then gave both Tubbo and Ranboo two slices of pepperoni each. Phil took his own plate -- with meat lovers, if Tommy had to guess -- and led them back to the living room, leaving Wilbur and Techno to fend for themselves.

Wilbur returned with one slice of cheese and like, way too many breadsticks, and Techno brought his entire pizza box back out with him.

Tommy wouldn't be surprised if he was planning on eating the whole thing in one night.

"So!" Phil began, pulling out his stash of pirated DVDs, "No video games while we eat. Does anyone have a preference in movie?"

"Do you have Moana?" Tubbo asked. Of course he would want to watch Moana. He'd seen the trailer a little while back, but had never gotten the chance to actually see the film.

"In fact, I do," Phil said, holding the case aloft triumphantly. Tubbo cheered.

Phil put the DVD in the player and switched the HDMI input, then plopped down on the couch next to Tommy.

Tommy sat in the middle of the couch with Phil now on his left and Tubbo on his right. Ranboo was on Tubbo's other side, legs folded to their chest, and Techno was next to Phil. Wilbur lounged on the arm of the couch next to Techno, using his shoulder as an armrest.

Phil pressed play on the remote, and the Disney logo flared to life on the TV screen.

Here, squished together on the couch with his dad, brothers, and best friends, Tommy thought he could finally be happy.

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

And there's part two!! This whole fic took me 15 days to write, and it's been on my mind every second I wasn't writing. Thank god I never have to touch this thing again /j

reblogs > likes

@froizzard and heres the hurt/comfort

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warmblanketwhump · 2 years

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A funny irl whump story of mine I reckoned you’d enjoy:

A year-ish ago I went on a class trip in the city amid winter. Now, I live in another town than the city I study in, so I commute back and forth by public transport - long story short, I ran to catch the bus to the train station so I could hop on the incoming train back home, but unfortunately I missed it and had to wait for over an hour for the next one.

And alas, my phone had died. Until the end I was very worried about any anxieties I may give to my family by not responding to their calls but another concern was also the *time* - by having zero battery, I also had no watch. Somehow, my genius brain thought it was a good idea to go like “Since you have no way of telling when the train is coming, you better stay on the platform *outside* so you can see it coming. Don’t even think about sitting inside the station and asking people for the time, this is Cringe”. So I spent that hour-and-something pacing along the platform, getting colder and colder by the minute…

The train came when it had gotten dark, I met an old friend and we sat together inside. The compartments were warm but my insides were *not* - I chatted along with her, hoping that I’ll soon feel better but by the time we arrived back in town, I still felt like a refrigerated chicken. In fact, I still felt unbearably cold as I rode in my dad’s even warmer car on the way back to my house (the one fortunate thing was that he knew he had to pick me up so my lack of phone contact wasn’t a problem anymore).

What also was concerning was that I was barely even shivering. Reasonably worried, I took my temperature out of fear I may have given myself hypothermia but luckily, I was fine. I went to take a hot shower anyways but still felt like I had jumped in freezing river waters to dig for the cross (I’m referencing Yordanovden here lol, a very cool Bulgarian tradition for those who are curious). At last, the only thing that thawed the cold out of me was wrapping myself up in blankets and laying in bed for 30 minutes. That last part was fun because:

a) “Yipee, I single-handedly prevented my demise, look how responsible and independent I am!!”

b) It was a nice excuse to lay tucked in my comfy, warm bed for half an hour before having to succumb to Ye Beloathed Homework

c) I had my pretty Sailor Moon bed sheets to keep me company while I was defrosting :D

Hope you all enjoyed my tomfoolery, telling it was a Neat writing exercise, stay safe and utilise your common sense to prevent ending up like I did lol

oh my goodness, anon, that sounds like an ordeal!!! there really is no worse feeling than being so chilled down to your bones that even being in a heated place isn’t enough to warm you up 🥶🥶🥶

i used to have to go to these cold-weather sporting events back in college, and it’s honestly such a weird feeling afterward when you’re sitting there wrapped in blankets and somehow STILL cold (honestly can’t believe I hadn’t thought of describing it as feeling like a refrigerated chicken - that’s perfect 🤣)

moral of the story - don’t wait outside in the cold!! ever!! unless you want to be someone’s whump inspo!

#i love being the source for all irl whump stories #anon #cold whump #irl whump

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luveline · 3 years

Text

summer shower [Fred Weasley x reader]

Summary: Fred makes your asthma play up.

Tags: reader-insert, fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining, mutual pining

word count: 1.3k

When you were just turning 21 years old, you met a boy. He was in his third year to your second of university, funny as could be, and beautiful.

Fred Weasley was a man of many secrets, which you'd come to accept the longer you'd known him. You had no idea where he was from, where his parents lived, or even if he had any family. You didn't know where he'd gone to school before this. You certainly didn't know why he liked pumpkin pie so much!

There were many things you did know.

His eyes turned from brown to almost black in the sun, superheated and lovely. He squinted one eye against the sun when you lounged in the courtyards in an endearing attempt to always keep an eye on your face. He never crushed flowers when he walked and he always trapped spiders in a cup with a piece of card instead of killing them, seeming endlessly bemused at the small creatures.

It was a warm summers day. You were trying your hardest not to smile as he lay in the grass. Your friends had all departed, claiming headaches and essays that needed to be submitted, though you thought these were all just white lies to allow you some alone time.

It didn't matter. No amount of free time would finish the game between the two of you. Well, you hoped it was a game: Fred pretended he didn't fancy you and you pretended you didn't fancy him.

You shared a tenderness with him that was unlike any relationship in your life.

He was smirking up at you.

"What?" You asked, pouting playfully.

"You look like you're trying to solve world hunger," he said through a grin.

You shook your head, fixing your gaze back down on the book in your lap.

"Maybe one day," you said without looking up.

Fred laughed. It was a perfect laugh, infectious and happy. You smiled despite your best efforts not to.

The pages were thin between your fingers, almost a thousand condensed into a 3 inch textbook for your course. The tip of your pencil rested against the page, though sometimes it felt appropriate to bring it to your mouth, contemplative. Fred watched silently as you underlined and questioned the subject, only quirkiness an eyebrow as your frustration became obvious.

"I don't understand," you admitted finally, "how that is relevant to anything. Look at this!"

You poked your pencil angrily at the figure in question. Fred's eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Doll, you know I don't understand a lick of it."

You sighed, closing the textbook mournfully. It didn't surprise you that Fred couldn't understand, you couldn't understand and you were actually taking the course for the last two and a half years. He was doing a completely different subject.

You threw yourself down flat, much too close to where Fred himself lay on the grass, knocking the air out of your lungs. You tried not to get too wound up, worried any agitation would cause a flare up.

You'd had a very bad asthma attack only a few days ago and had spent a day or two feeling very fragile and sorry for yourself. You didn't want a repeat.

The grass was cold and a little damp from the early morning dew.

You nibbled at your lip, searching the sky for something it couldn't give.

Fred was watching you.

"Oh my god! What do you want, you hooligan?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "You looked at me."

"You were looking at me!"

"Doesn't sound true. Falsehoods of such a nature are unkindly and uncouth."

"You're uncouth!"

"Yeah?" Fred asked, eyes hot.

Your mouth dried up. He was especially tempting like this, looking all homegrown and hand spun. His hair was lightened by the sun cover, strawberry blonde against his tanned and freckled face. Tanned now only after months of suffering sun burn miserably.

"I know what you're thinking." He said. You paid close attention to his mouth.

"Which is?"

"How did I get to be so devilishly handsome? Honestly, it's a question I ask myself often."

You withheld the urge to turn your face into the earth and scream.

He wasn't entirely wrong. You had been thinking about his good looks.

"How did you know?" You asked. You'd tried for bravado, for sarcasm, but it came out wrong. A little too sincere. You cleared your throat.

Fred pushed up onto an elbow so that he was looking down into your face. He studied the slope of your nose and the laugh lines you'd slowly gathered since meeting him. He reached forward, too slowly, to place the pads of his fingers gently on your cheek. You could pinpoint the exact moment he rested his palm on your skin.

He smiled gently. You beamed.

"Can I ask you something?"

You tried to read his face, preemptively guess the question.

"When do you ask my permission?"

"It's the kind of thing that requires two consenting parties."

Your mouth quirked into a waiting grin. Fred's ears grew red.

"Not that."

"Fred Weasley, embarassed. Somebody call the news."

He didn't answer, pushing the hair out of your face in a repetitive motion that sent tingles down your spine and a hot flush to your tummy.

You tried not to read into it, closing your eyes against the waves of excitement and happiness roiling through you. You didn't permit yourself to think of what it meant, because what else could it mean? Friends don't do the things you both did. Friends didn't gaze down into your face with unspoken feelings.

You lay there for some time, the excitement slowly turning to bone deep contentment, feeling yourself drift into an almost sleep. The breeze was soft and sweet, the ground beneath you cushioned by grass, and the handsome man hovering above you only sweetened the deal.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm," you said, tilting your chin to prompt him to continue.

"Will you look at me a second?

You opened your eyes obligingly.

"I wanted to ask you, do you -"

He cut himself off, peering up into the sky. You frowned, only to feel the unwelcome spatter of heavy sudden rain drops on your face.

You gasped, rushing to collect all of your things into your bag. Your textbook was already dampening by the time you'd fit it all. Fred pulled you up and began to run. You followed, laughing and struggling to be heard over the summer shower.

By the time you reached his dorm building, both of you were breathing hard. Fred said something through a laugh. You struggled to answer, hands on your knees.

"Y/N?"

Despite having asthma all your life and suffering many attacks, each time felt just as urgent and scary as the first.

Your eyes filled with tears.

"You're okay! You're okay. Where's your pump, huh? In your bag?"

He didn't wait for an answer, reaching into your bag as you gasped, though insistent on leaving one arm on your arm. The pressure was reassuring.

You tried to manage your breathing as you always did, gasping and gasping and gasping.

"Here, princess. Open up," Fred said.

You covered the hand he held your inhaler with your own, clamping down on his hand so hard you could feel the fine bones under his skin.

It took a while for you to settle down, thought this attack wasn't anywhere as bad as the one you'd had days ago.

"My hero," you coughed out, lungs aching.

Fred grimaced. "I'll always rescue you, my femme fatale."

"Misogynist."

"You have paper lungs, my love."

"That I do, Freddie. That I do."

Fred rubbed your back, insisting on carrying you up the steps to his dorm room. If you acted much more frail than you felt, it was nobodies business but yours and Fred's.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #x reader #reader insert #friends to lovers #mutual pining #harry potter imagine

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erwinsvow · 3 years

Text

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

summary: you and eren, your boyfriend armin’s best friend, have always had a strange relationship. things take a turn when armin goes home for the weekend, leaving the two of you alone on friday night.

warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), guilty reader feels bad, implied infidelity, masturbation, slight dumbification, dacryphilia, daddy kink

word count: 6.8k

author’s note: i once said i would never write for eren, so i guess that was a fat lie! enjoy!

You’re not sure about exactly when you became so comfortable with having Eren around. It was kind of like a two-for-one deal with your boyfriend, Armin, since he was so rarely seen without his best friend at his side. Their majors were so different that they hardly ever had classes together, and so the pair of them made up for lost time by spending all their other time together.

It wasn’t totally out of the blue if Eren would crash on the couch next to you, while you were curled up beside Armin, hands interlaced and head resting softly on his chest. You’d jolt at the impact of Eren—a huge guy compared to anyone’s standards—jumping beside you and disrupting the peaceful intimacy you were sharing with your boyfriend. Armin didn’t seem to be annoyed or frustrated, and so you wouldn’t prove to be, either. You and him would welcome Eren with a laugh, directing him to the leftovers from your take-out and enjoying the company of a man who wasn’t your boyfriend far too much.

It was easy to fall into the trap of it. Maybe Armin was always missing the way Eren’s eyes raked over your figure whenever you’d walk into the room. Maybe he was too enraptured by his marine biology textbook to notice how Eren stared at the supple skin of your exposed thighs when you took a seat next to them, dress hiking up a little or skirt much too short for a study-date with two boys. You were never much of a tease because it was so easy when you and Armin started seeing each other, so natural and comfortable that you didn’t have to try any unusual flirting methods on the golden-haired boy. As a result, he didn’t really know what bubbled under the surface of your skin and all the different thoughts that plagued your mind.

So you think that’s why it was so easy to fall into the trap of it all, making eyes at Eren while your boyfriend sat right next to you. Choosing outfits that had previously been stuffed into the depths of your closet, because you didn’t think Armin would approve. You kept up the facade in front of your lovely boyfriend, though, because at the end of the day, you loved him and no one else. You didn’t want to break his heart by cheating on him with his closest friend, even though the electricity between you and Eren made all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and made goosebumps appear on every inch of the soft skin of your legs that Eren loved to leer at so much. No, because at the end of the day, it was plainly wrong to even think about another man when you had Armin in your life.

That’s what you told yourself when you stopped exchanging glances with Eren, started wearing blue again instead of green, and asked Armin if you two could have more time alone. You thought Armin looked confused, and he was, but for entirely different reasons. While you had been concerned with Eren’s gaze and intentions, Armin had been silently paying attention to his best friend and girlfriend. You thought he was innocent, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. And there wasn’t a thought in Eren’s head that Armin couldn’t figure out well in advance. If you wanted to fuck Eren, all you had to do was ask, but he quickly realized you were trying to be a good little girlfriend again, rather than the devilish slut you had been recently. Well, if you weren’t going to do anything, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Eren had always wondered why you spent so much time with Armin, and by virtue of association, with him. Any other little girlfriend would at least take some time alone to study, but you practically spent every minute at Armin’s side or in their shared apartment. Armin’s explanation of how you didn’t get along with your roommates made so much sense, especially now that you were going to be sleeping in Armin’s room for the weekend while he went back home for a ‘family emergency’.

You had asked Armin if Eren would be going back with him in a certain voice, one that he couldn’t exactly pinpoint as he eavesdropped from his own bedroom. A mixture of uncertainty, nervousness, and excitement? Was that excitement he noted? He wishes he could look into your eyes to tell, but all he can do is listen to Armin tell you that Eren would be staying in the apartment.

Eren can almost hear your heartbeat speed up, eyes blinking quickly and heat rushing to your face. Of course Armin trusted his best friend to stay with his girlfriend for a weekend. The two people he loved the most would never betray him, and so he had nothing to fear.

Back to being the devoted girlfriend you are, you help Armin pack his bags late Thursday night. You folded clothes on his bed and tucked them into the duffel bag neatly, while Armin looked around for his books. He would be leaving right after his classes Friday morning, and so you knew by the time you returned after your classes, he would be long gone, leaving just you and Eren to fend for yourselves Friday night.

In the morning, you’re greeted by Armin pressing a kiss to your forehead as he heads to his eight-am lecture. Through the daze of sleep and heavy-lidded eyes, you grasp his hand softly in a failed attempt to keep him with you a little longer, but you hear him murmur something that distinctly sounds like “Don't worry, baby, Eren will take care of you” before he leaves.

You fall back asleep after, missing the way Armin and Eren talk briefly before he departs. You wake up in Armin’s bed alone, to the sound of your alarm. Usually, Fridays are your favorite day of the week because you have a light schedule and you get to spend most of the day with Armin. His classes end right when yours start, so you’d get to grab coffee with him and meet for lunch after, before either heading to the library to get work done or to his apartment because you knew Eren wouldn’t be around and therefore you could be as loud as you want.

But not today. You had to get breakfast alone, before going off to class and sitting in the library alone. You didn’t realize how quickly the day had passed by, in between studying and texting Armin to make sure he got home safely, and avoiding the pit in your stomach that kept reminding you that you’d be going home to Eren soon. You looked outside the library window from your seat, and saw the sun was setting, meaning the library was closing soon and that you had to face reality. You’re thinking about how to put going back to the apartment for even longer, maybe stopping somewhere to eat dinner, when your phone buzzes with a text notification.

You pick it up quickly, hoping it’s from Armin, but your stomach drops again when you see the screen lit up with Eren’s name. A singular message from him reads: Did you eat yet?

Bastard. How does he know your thoughts before you even think them?

You’re faced with two choices. Lie to him, then go get dinner by yourself, and then finally go back to your own home and put up with your terrible roommates for another night… or go to the apartment, order dinner with Eren, and avoid his lecherous looks long enough to get yourself safely inside Armin’s room with the door locked.

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest at the thought of having dinner with Eren alone. He never did anything too forward or telling with you, but you suspect it was only because Armin was always right beside you. There’s no telling what he would do if he got you alone. Your heart’s pounding, but another feeling altogether is creeping into your stomach and up to your chest, one that’s making you feel hot all over despite how chilly the air in the library is.

You’re nearly lost in your thoughts until your phone buzzing again brings you back to reality. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as you read his text, this time longer; We can order dinner when you get here. Promise I don’t bite.

You feel like hurling your phone across the empty library, because every sane thought in your mind is telling you not to go over there, but every bone in your body feels like it’s being pulled towards Eren. Suddenly you think back to all those times you had teased him intentionally, and how strange you feel right now, like two different versions of yourself are fighting with each other. A third buzz makes your decision for you.

Am I really so much worse than those roommates of yours?

Eren was many things, but that was one thing he was not. You quickly remember just how often you had shown up at Armin’s doorstep in tears, or so angry you had steam blowing out of your ears, because of how much you hated them. You only had to deal with them for a few more months, so it was easy enough to avoid them and only stop by to get clothes and the occasional shower. To make matters worse, it was Friday night and they would definitely be having some kind of a party or get-together, which meant there was no way you’d be getting any sleep there.

I’m on my way, can we get pizza?

…

It’s only seven-thirty when you and Eren are sitting on the couch, some movie playing on the television that you aren’t paying attention to. Your nerves only let you eat a slice of pizza, while Eren scarfed down nearly half the box. You knew you were fucked when Eren opened the door, clad only in grey sweatpants and the slick sheen of sweat apparent on his entire body, from his muscular arms to his abs.

Bastard, bastard, bastard. He opened the door like that on purpose, just to see you react with a splutter and blush red.

“I’m just gonna jump into the shower, can you order the pizza?” he shouted to you while walking back to his bedroom. He came out with a towel, and you had barely processed the words because the only thing you could think about were his arms. You knew Eren was fit, anyone could tell just by looking at him, but you had no idea he was built like that. If you were a lesser woman, you would have tried to sneak glances at Eren getting into or out of the shower during all those opportunities you had, but you never did, because it felt wrong to look away from Armin’s blue eyes to focus on Eren.

But now, with no one else there to stop or distract you, your eyes were glued to his muscular figure. It wasn’t too hard to think about how easily he could pin you somewhere—up against a wall, or a door maybe, or across the dinner table. It wouldn’t even take him both hands to keep your head shoved down or keep both your arms pinned back as he—

“Hey, you okay? Did you hear me?” Eren asks again, standing right in front of you. He’s trying his hardest to sound sincere, but there’s a smirk on his face as he observes your behavior. If it wasn’t obvious before, it’s clear as day now.

“I-I’m fine. What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Whatever kind you want, just get extra cheese. Menus on the table,” he says, before turning back around and walking to the bathroom. You’re almost jaw-dropped as you watch him walk away, and hear the water turn on. You take several deep breaths, reminding yourself to stay calm. After dinner, you could go into Armin’s room and be completely fine.

You order the pizza and go into Armin’s room to sort your stuff out, looking through your bag and searching for clothes to sleep in. You knew you had packed them, but you suddenly couldn’t find them anywhere. Your shorts and t-shirt were missing, and you quickly realized you left them on your bed while you had gone to grab your toothbrush. Damn it.

Armin has a collection of perfectly soft and comfortable shirts to sleep in, so you open one of his drawers and pull out a dark green one, with some design on it. There’s no shorts that would fit you among Armin’s clothes, so you’ll have to do without them tonight. It’s fine though, considering the door will be locked and you’ll be safe and sound once you and Eren go to bed. Or so you thought.

Now you’re sitting on the couch, still dressed in your day clothes and feeling hot again. You knew Armin liked to keep the apartment on the warmer side, but you had never felt quite this warm before.

Eren glances at you with a quizzical look, and you realize your shiftiness and breathy pants are more noticeable than you thought.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out and you barely ate a thing,” he comments, keeping his eyes on you which somehow makes you feel even worse. His gaze is piercing, and though you never really cared that Eren always looks like he’s undressing you with his eyes, it’s bothering you now more than ever.

“I-I’m okay,” you get out, before suddenly standing up and taking off the cardigan you had worn all day. “I think I just need to shower, good night Eren,” you say, before walking away much too quickly. Eren’s eyes don’t leave you until you’re inside Armin’s room once more, wondering why you’re so hot and bothered at a simple stare from him. Him, who is not your boyfriend, and barely qualifies as your friend and for some reason has you wet from looking into those green eyes for too long.

Enough.

Armin was kind and sweet enough to let you sleep at his place when he’s not even there, and you wanted to repay that kindness by having dirty thoughts about his best friend? No, it wasn’t right, in fact, it was inherently wrong. You take a few more moments in Armin’s room, inhaling the familiar scent of his fabric softener and all the old books on his shelves, before taking your towel and going to the bathroom. Eren is still in the living room, eating and watching the movie, you presume, and you wish to God he would leave you alone and go out to party or fuck some other girl, but he’s not. He’s spending a quiet Friday night at home with you.

The hot water and clean soap distract you from your thoughts, but the tension and heat growing in your body is only exacerbated when you run your hands across your body. There’s something very wrong about touching yourself in the shower when Eren is a dozen feet away and could hear you easily—but that’s a risk you’re willing to take if it meant it would get illicit thoughts of him out of your brain for the rest of the night.

One hand goes to play with your hardened nipple, as the other tenderly begins to rub circles on your clit. Your hands try to imitate Armin’s, and he’s always gentle with you, but as you let out a muffled moan, you realize it’s not Armin’s careful touch you want right now. It’s Eren’s rough fingers, fingers that would move in and out of your wetness harshly, not waiting for you to adjust to their size. Eren wouldn’t start with one, like Armin, he would go for three and keep his thumb on your clit, rubbing so fast and in just the right way, while his mouth would be on your tits—tongue doing the talking for him on your sensitive nipples. He wouldn’t care to stop if it was getting to be too much, and he wouldn’t let you come down from your high before starting again, he would just keep going. Eren would know when you’ve had enough, and just once didn’t meet his requirements for enough.

If anyone could see you right now, you could die from embarrassment, furiously fucking your fingers and completely unaware of how loud you were being as you tried to imitate what Eren would do to you. But imitating wasn’t quite enough, You were so close, you could almost feel that tight knot in your stomach unwind, just a little more—-

Knock.

“Hey, you’ve been in there a while. Everything okay?” Eren’s voice is muffled from outside the door, and the waterfall coming from the shower suddenly felt like it was pounding beside you.

Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a frustrated, stifled sob.

“Y-yeah! I’m almost done!” you call back out, fingers still inside you. You remove them with a gasp, shaking and face burning at the idea that Eren might have overheard you. You get out of the shower on wobbly legs, wrapping the towel securely around you and heading to Armin’s bedroom to change and put an end to this strange day. You don’t notice that Eren’s door is cracked open a little.

As strange as it sounds, you feel much better once you’re in Armin’s shirt and just a pair of panties, ready for bed. A nagging voice in the back of your head wants you to finish what you started in the shower, nipples hard again as the air seems cooler than earlier, but you push the thoughts aside. Another day.

You grab your water bottle to take your birth-control pill, eight forty-five on the dot, but realize its contents are empty as a result of your earlier hot flash. You tiptoe into the kitchen, extra careful because you don’t want Eren to hear and come out, but as you fill up a glass, your roommate for the night is suddenly leaning against the counter.

It should be illegal the way he says your name. Sultry and deep and rolling off his tongue without even trying. Eren doesn’t have to change a thing about him to be the very definition of the word erotic, which is coincidentally the only word you can use to describe this encounter.

He’s forgone the shirt he had on earlier, when you were eating together, and you knew he had put it on just to make sure you didn’t choke on your pizza. Just in those sweatpants again, you could see everything you had tried too hard to avert your gaze from, on display right in front of you.

“E-Eren,” you stutter out, skin burning again even though it was cold now. “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay. What are you taking, there?” You flushed again at the idea of having to tell Eren it was your birth control, because it felt as if he already knew somehow. He watches you with that damn smirk and a raised eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“It’s ibuprofen.”

“Oh.. ibuprofen, huh? That’s weird, because every time I asked you if you were okay, you said you were fine. Were you lying to me?” His tone is dangerous, somewhere between amused and angry.

You didn’t even realize he had gotten so close to you, until you tried to take another step backwards to put some distance between you two, but you were met by resistance from a cupboard, signifying the end of the wall.

“I-I wasn’t lying, I just forgot-” You hear him click his tongue. He’s dangerously close to you now, you can feel the heat coming off of his body and one more step from him would make you feel the cold breath of his exhales.

“Forgot what, baby? It seems to me that I just caught you in a lie.” Another click of his tongue. “Now, Armin always says you’re a good girl, but I don’t think a good girl would lie to me like you’ve been doing all night, right?”

Armin. The very mention of his name makes something recoil inside your chest, makes you remember how you don’t want to hurt him like this, and how much pain he would be in if he found out about this little interaction between you and Eren.

You try to push back, but Eren extends his arms up, trapping you between them and the cabinet, leaving no way for you to escape.

“Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

The simple sentence is enough to send your brain, skin, heart on fire, as you let out a breath and find your head nodding up and down. Your body seems to have a mind of its own, wetness seeping from between your folds and no doubt creating a darkened patch on your panties.

“Good girl,” he mewls, dragging out each syllable as he speaks. “I thought I might have to punish you if you kept lying to me, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue anymore. Am I right?” He watches you dumbly nod again, eyes very much blank and just focused on one thing: him. He nods too, mocking your movements and smirking again. “Should we play a game? How about I ask a question, and you have to tell the truth? Sound good?”

Everything’s on fire, and you can’t hear anything besides the thumping of your heart in your chest. Long gone are your inhibitions and desperate hope of a quiet night in with your boyfriend’s roommate.

“First question…” Eren trails off quickly, looking down your body slowly. He takes one hand down from its position of blockading you and brings it to the hem of your—Armin’s—shirt. He plays with it there before continuing his sentence. “What were you thinking about in the shower earlier?”

You feel your breath catch in your throat and a quick flame erupts in your chest at the humiliation you feel—so he had heard you after all. And he interrupted you on purpose.

“You-you were listening? I-” Eren laughs, a low rumble from his chest meeting your ears as you begin to quiver from your position against him.

“I wasn’t listening so much as you were being loud. It seems to me that you wanted me to hear you, isn’t that right? Or else what kind of a filthy slut would be so loud?”

You tremble at the name he calls you, not used to sort of degradation Eren is putting you through. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that he’s not wrong, and your behavior is akin to some kind of whore. Maybe you’ve been like this all along, and you just needed the right person to bring it out of you. Your head feels utterly empty and devoid of any more thoughts, and you blank at what to say to Eren next.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you splutter out, feeling incredibly small near Eren, who towers over you. There’s something sadistic in Eren’s gaze, but you notice him soften up at your apology.

“What are you apologizing for?” he questions, quieter than before. He knows the two of you are alone, but he can’t bring himself to raise his voice at you.

You, the bane of his existence, and a blessing all at once. Since the day Armin introduced you to him, there’s been nothing he’s wanted more than for you to meet his gaze and look at him the way you looked at his best friend, with love and adoration. He got a few lucky weeks where you didn’t immediately shy away from his eyes, when he felt like you were challenging him to do something, anything. But it went as soon as it came, and suddenly he was seeing less and less of you. Until this opportunity from Armin’s departure, that is.

“I… I was being a slut,” you whisper back to him, tears lining up at the waterline of your pretty eyes as he moves a hand to your jaw and forces you to look right at him while you speak. You shudder at the touch of his skin on yours, but you don’t want him to stop all the same.

“That’s okay, baby,” he says in an incredibly reassuring tone that has you wondering what he’ll do next. “I like my girls a little slutty, but just for me, right?” You nod again, quickly. “Besides, I have to make it up to you, you know. I stopped you right when you were getting real close, didn’t I? I could just tell from those pretty noises you were making.”

The next few moments pass by in a blur, Eren’s arms move and suddenly you’re over his shoulder, ass up and out as the shirt you’re wearing rides up. He delivers a quick slap, making you cry out, as he brings you into the room and lays you on the bed. He’s standing between your legs, a hand on each thigh keeping you spread open for him as he observes closely the impact of his actions on you.

“You’re just soaking through your panties, aren’t you? Are you really that eager for me?”

You let out a whine, not wanting to answer his question because your face is burning again at the idea of Eren staring so closely at your clothed pussy—and you let out an even higher-pitched squeal when he uses a finger to push your panties aside, and look at your wetness completely.

“So wet, and so pretty, all for me, huh?”

“Y-yes. All for you,” you let out with a moan, eager for Eren to do something. Anything at all would set you over the edge, with how you’ve been feeling these last few hours. But you think he knows that, because his actions are all teasing you and leaving you wanting more, blindly clenching around nothing at all as his fingers barely graze your clit. He lets out a laugh at your desperate antics, and you’re about to come from the slightest touch, and suddenly you feel the bed moving as Eren wraps his lips around your clit and pushes his tongue against you.

You didn’t even know you could make the noise that you let out, a scream and a cry and carnal moan all wrapped in one. You know Eren thinks the same because he looks up at you from his position between your legs, laughing against your core. The vibration from his laugh makes your legs shake even harder, as you feel Eren’s tongue attacking your clit at an even faster pace. You’re seeing stars and completely unaware of everything else, like how Eren’s nimble hands slid your panties down and tossed them to the side somewhere, landing near the bookshelf, so close to the edge when you feel his fingers teasing at your opening and plunge in without any warning.

You were completely right about your earlier predictions, feeling Eren quickly add a third finger inside you as you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop the obscene noises from leaving your mouth. You do have neighbors, after all, despite how much empty your head feels of every thought besides one; Eren.

He pulls his mouth away from your sensitive nerves for just a second, just to chastise you before continuing his actions.

“Don’t do that,” he says the words against your lips, “I want to hear you.”

You weren’t sure it was possible to feel even more pleasure than you were now, but Eren’s words made you feel feral as you let out another loud moan, this time not muffled. You think he calls you a good girl, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination. You whine when you feel Eren pull his fingers out of you, suddenly so empty when you had been so full moments ago. You’re trying to collect the words to tell him to keep going, and how this is the second time he’s ruined your finishing, but you just can’t. The only thing that comes out is a mumble of ‘please’ and ‘Eren’

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not stopping,” he says, pulling himself up and hovering over you. One of his strong arms is by your head, holding himself up as the other hand, the one that had been inside of you, finds its way to your mouth. “Open.”

You do as you’re told, dropping your jaw quickly for him as he shoves the fingers into your hot mouth.

“Suck.” Another command that has you reeling, doing exactly as he wants and swirling your tongue around Eren’s long fingers. They’re coated with your heady wetness, and the taste is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you don’t stop. It feels entirely too dirty and filthy, but you’re willing to do anything to get Eren’s approval now. His words are clear now.

“Good girl. Since you’ve been so good, I think you can cum now.”

His fingers leave your mouth quickly, and he’s fiddling with your hands now, that were previously gripping the sheets so tightly you were scared they might tear. He pulls up your shirt even more, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room, and puts your fingers on your hardened nipples. He doesn’t give a command, but you know it instinctively, that he wants you to play with your nipples while he makes you come. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to follow his orders, but you go ahead anyways. You’re teasing yourself in front of his hungry, wolf-like gaze, as you clench on nothing every time you run your fingers over your sensitive nipples.

Satisfied, he returns back to his position between your legs. You’re crying out before his fingers even reach your wetness, and choke on your moan when he inserts three at once again. You know there’s no way you’ll be able to hold out now, and if he stops again you feel like you might explode into a million pieces. His tongue is rough against your clit, moving in the perfect motion, and one more thrust of his perfect fingers against that spot inside you will have you cumming so hard— Eren speaks against your pussy, a singular word.

“Cum.”

You feel the knot snap in your stomach and your orgasm shakes through you like a bolt of lightning. You hear yourself release a scream before you can stop it, fingers leaving your breasts and grasping onto Eren’s dark strands for dear life, because he hasn’t let up on his actions yet. He keeps going, riding you through it, tongue and mouth continuing on and fingers pumping in and out so quickly that the bedroom is filled with a crude, squelching noise. You’re not sure exactly how loud you were, but your throat is dry and scratchy, and you’re swallowing just to feel some relief. You feel Eren slowly retract his fingers, breathing heavy against the soft skin of your thigh, as you find your way back to reality. You don’t look down at Eren, but you hear him licking his fingers, tasting your wetness in such a sinful manner, you know you can’t look at him do it.

Reality sets in, and you look around your surroundings. Every single one of your senses had been preoccupied with Eren minutes ago, but now that they were free again, you take in the comfortable scent of the sheets and the lingering scent of your slick leaves your thoughts as you take in the familiar scent of old books. Your heartbeat was just returning to normal, when you look around and realize you’re in Armin’s room, on Armin’s bed, as Armin’s best friend gave you the most powerful orgasm of your life.

You sit up quickly, breathing rapidly as your shirt falls to cover yourself, and you meet Eren’s eyes again.

“Lay back, baby, we’re not done yet.” There’s a haze over your thoughts, and his words, because you want to fight him, and yell and scream at him for bringing you into Armin’s room when you already felt so horrible about what you’ve done, but you can’t summon anything. The only thing you can think about is Eren’s dick, and how it would feel inside you, and how your sensitive walls would take him. So you follow Eren’s orders, and lay back down. Eren hovers over you again, pulling at your shirt, up and over your head, and it lands with a soft thud on the carpet.

He’s looking at you now, up and down slowly, but different than all the other times. He doesn’t have to rush to take it all in this time, because you’re on display just for him now. So he takes his time, and starts with a soft kiss to the skin right above your heart, wondering if he can hear the hard thuds or if that’s just his imagination. You look at him while he continues his ministrations, wondering why he’s being so slow and careful, because you hadn’t expected this.

His lips work their way up, to your collarbone and then your neck, taking his time to suck on the skin and pepper it with kisses once he hears you hiss in pain. He murmurs an apology against your jaw, before his teeth take your bottom lip between them. He lets go soon after, too eager to feel your lips against his. He’s scared you might pull away, but you don’t. You know you’ve done something terrible, but it’s too late to take it back now.

He kisses you deeply, tongues finding each other and exchanging that heady taste of yourself. You moan into the kiss, your hands finding the side of Eren’s face and trying to push him onto yourself even harder. You’re not sure if you ever want to pull away from Eren’s lips, but he finally does, trying to catch his breath. You look into his green eyes for a moment, and find your own eyes watering.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” Eren’s words send you scrambling again, too eager for the fullness you know is inevitable when he finally fucks you.

You feel yourself grabbing for the waistband of his sweats, but Eren’s faster than you. His one hand pins both of yours against your chest, as he clicks his tongue in that obnoxious way again.

“Patience. Only patient girls get daddy’s cock.” You want to scream at him about how patient you’ve been, all this time and all of tonight, but you bite your tongue. You don’t need Eren’s punishment on top of the torture he’s put you through already.

You let go of your resistance and watch with wide eyes as he removes the only thing that was in your way. His erect dick snaps up against his stomach once it’s freed, and you swallow without thinking, looking at the sheer size of him. He’s just as big as you had imagined, the tip a pretty, dark pink with white beads of pre-cum gathered at the top, and every vein causing you to descend further and further into a wanton state. It’s his thickness that you weren’t prepared for. If three of his fingers were such a tight stretch, you can only imagine what this would do to you. But at the same time, you think you might die if Eren doesn’t fuck you right now.

He watches with that damn smirk as you stare at his dick with more eagerness than he’s ever seen before. He holds his length in his hand, directing himself to your entrance but not pushing in. He holds himself there, running his dick over your folds and almost succumbing to the inviting wetness of your cunt, but he stops himself.

“Do you want my cock, baby?” Another surge of heat rushes through your body, feeling almost light-headed at how difficult he’s making this. But you weren’t about to start misbehaving now.

“Y-yes, yes, Eren, please-” You hiccup out, feeling yourself lose the battle against your watery eyes, as the tears roll down your face. “Please, I want it so badly, please, please, please—Oh!”

Eren pushes in without any warning, watery eyes being his own breaking point. He could have finished on the spot seeing you cry begging for his dick, and he was determined to make you cum again before then. The noises you’re making are incredibly obscene, and he knows you’re being loud enough to notify the entire floor, but he’s not going to stop you. He’s only about half way in, but he wants to be nice and let you adjust to him.

“P-please, Eren, please-” You’re not entirely sure what you’re begging Eren for. A part of you doesn’t think it’s possible to feel more full, and another part of you wants Eren to fuck you so hard you forget everything and everyone.

He’s about to chastise you again to be patient, and let you know that he’s doing this for you, not him, but he realizes his actions are louder than his words. With another thrust, he pushes his entire length in you. You moan again, this time with a breathy gasp, and he can’t help the smile on his face. You look so pretty crying, trying to take his entire dick and struggling immensely.

He thrusts slowly, wanting to make it last and make you feel every last vein of dick deep inside you, but the way your tight cunt grips him has him speeding up before he can help it. The noises filling Armin’s room are beyond lecherous, as the only sounds are of his tightening balls smacking against your skin with every deep thrust, and the lewd noise of your wetness taking him.

He’s got you on your back, sitting up between your thighs and one leg hoisted on his shoulder, and thrusting so hard you can feel his hip-bone bruising your skin. There’s only one thought left in your head, and that’s how good Eren feels inside you. The aching burn of his initial assault is long gone, leaving just the feeling of Eren filling you up. Your hands remember his earlier order and find their way to your hardened nipples again, pinching and teasing, putting on a show for Eren as he moans loudly. Every noise he makes goes straight to your core, making you clench around him harder than before.

His lithe fingers find your clit again, and you throw your head back and moan even louder at the feeling. You were so, so sensitive already and this was the last straw. One more of Eren’s thrusts, hitting that special spot inside you, and one more touch of his fingers on your clit sent you screaming to your second orgasm. You were clenching tightly, as Eren worked you through it again and kept his thrusts going. You were seeing black, screaming his name and God knows what else, as you came and waves of pleasure washed over you and heat radiated from your head to your toes.

Eren’s continued thrusts kept going, even after your pussy tightened around him. You were out of breath and sweaty, and you felt Eren’s hips stutter as he leaned forwards and found your hot mouth again. You were kissing again, his lips on yours as you swallowed his moans and grabbed his arms to steady yourself. With another rapid succession of thrusts, Eren moved his lips to your neck and groaned loudly as he came inside you. You felt the hot ropes of his cum deep inside your pussy, as he kept going and going, eventually pulling out of you with a heady moan. You could feel his cum leaking out of you and onto Armin’s sheets, as you laid incredibly still beside Eren, both of you trying to catch your breath. You were ashamed to look Eren in the eyes, avoiding his gaze still as you felt your heart rate return somewhat back to normal.

“Hey,” was all he said, breathlessly, and with a deep look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “Are you okay?”

He straightened himself up, leaning against the bed frame and opening his arms in an inviting manner. You wanted nothing more than to avoid his touch, but you felt the exhaustion in your limbs and you convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being held by him for a few minutes. You leaned against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling up the covers to shield you both from the cold air. You were content to fall asleep right here, every sense of yours taken up by Eren, but you couldn’t just yet.

“What are we going to tell Armin?” you breathed out dejectedly. It was the one thought that was plaguing your mind, the one thought stopping you from being happy and peaceful beside Eren tonight.

“Oh, baby. You’re acting like this entire thing this wasn’t his idea.”

...

thanks for reading! part two with armin, anyone?

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager smut #eren smut #eren yeager imagine #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan imagine #snk #eren jaeger imagine #armin arlert #fics

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arvinsescape · 3 years

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Snapped tension.

A/N: Okay, so a few people wanted a Part 2 of the BBQ blurb. (Found here). I also wanted to write it, so here we go. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Tom for years and you’d had a few moments of tension throughout your relationship and it finally snaps.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (unprotected sex, wrap it up, condoms are a very good barrier from many things, such as unplanned pregnancy and STI’s), Oral (Fem! R). Minors do not engage.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” Harry yawned, you’d been sat around the firepit for a while now, chatting mindlessly, none of you were sure what time it was.

Most people hummed in agreement.

“I’m not tired.” Tom whispered in your ear and you shivered. “Wanna come back to mine? It’s closer. Night cap?” He asked and you nodded.

As you and Tom got up to leave, you saw Grace shoot you a wink, you bit your lip with a smirk in reply. The walk back to Tom’s was short, he might have travelled the world but he never moved too far away from his mum and dad’s house.

“Ladies first.” Tom said as he held the door open for you.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased.

You were sat in his living room, sat closely, the tension back and thick in the air as you looked at one another.

“Do you mind if I go for a shower? I can smell the smoke on me?” You asked in a low voice. Tom hummed in response as he nodded his head.

Tom had decided he was also going to shower and used the guest shower whilst you used the one in his en-suite. Tom finished before you did and when you entered his bedroom, he was in nothing but his boxers, your towel wrapped around you.

You felt your heart beat racing as he looked at you, freshly showered and topless, he looked so good. He’d been driving you wild all day, you felt yourself grow wetter as you looked at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“I much prefer that outfit on you.” Tom said as he moved closer towards you.

“Likewise.” You said, your mouth had gone dry, god he was gorgeous.

He stood in front of you as you looked up at him through your lashes, you wanted to kiss him so badly. You looked at each other for a while, eyes flicking between each other’s eyes and lips.

“I swear we’ve been here once before.” Tom whispered, lips grazing yours. You stood frozen waiting for him to make a move. “Do you want me to kiss you princess?” He asked and you frantically nodded, the heat between the two of you rising.

Tom captured your lips in his, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and pulled back from you slightly before releasing it.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He spoke again, lips still ghosting yours and you couldn’t stop yourself as you practically jumped on him, lips meeting his in a hot and heavy kiss. Tom wasted no time in pinning you to the wall, hands had a firm grip on your waist as yours found his hair and he groaned as you tugged slightly.

“Can I tell you something else?” He asked as you nodded your head. “I was so gutted that night we almost slept together but never did. I’ve dreamt about making you feel good, having you fall apart on my tongue, fingers, cock so many times.” He said and you felt hot, so incredibly hot with his words.

He nipped at you neck as you moaned, he took the towel you were wearing and ripped it off, it fell to the floor. His leg moving between your own as you ground down almost pathetically against his thigh.

“You’re so wet. Wanna taste you.” He said as he kissed down your body, getting on his knees for you as his hands found your hips again. He placed a string of kisses across your hip bone as your breathing grew harder, you had been waiting for this for a long time, that tension between the two of you snapping as he nudged his nose against your clit.

You let out a moan as he licked a smooth stripe with the flat of his tongue through your folds.

“Taste so good.” He mumbled before he dived in, lifting your leg as he put it over his shoulder, hands firmly on your hips as he pinned you to the wall. Your head thrown back against it.

“Shit, Tom.” You moaned as he nuzzled into your wet heat, nose nudging your clit as you tried to grind against his face but couldn’t because of his firm grip on your hips. “Feels so good.” You moaned and he groaned into you as you gripped his hair again.

He continued his almost expert licking and sucking on your clit as he brought you towards your high, he took one hand from your hip and trailed it along your thigh, only adding to the sensation. He trailed his fingers up and down your raised thigh, nudging your entrance every so often and you wished he’d just plunge them in, fuck you with them.

“Tom, please.” You begged, it was pathetic and you knew it, you were so needy for him. “Please I need your fingers.” You said as your entrance tightened around nothing. Tom groaned again and slid his fingers easily into your heat, you moaned at the contact as you tightened around them.

Tom moved his free hand to grasp your breast in his hand and you took the opportunity to grind against his tongue, you felt dizzy as your orgasm approached, this was the best oral you’d recieved in so long. He sucked your clit as his fingers stroked your g spot and you cried out.

He moaned as you tightened around his fingers, your orgasm washing over you as he fucked you through it, hand moving to hold you steady as your legs shook. When you came down from your high, he placed kisses up your body before landing his lips back on your own, the taste of yourself making you moan as you panted heavily against him.

“Did so good for me. Fuck you sound hot, hotter than I’d imagined.” He said as he ran a hand up your body, cupping your cheek. “So fucking pretty.” He kissed your cheek as your breathing returned to normal.

Once you were ready again, you pulled his boxers down as he kicked them out of the way, you looked him straight in the eye as you spat on your hand before grasping his hard cock in your hand, wetting it thoroughly and Tom’s eyes widening slightly.

“Such a filthy thing aren’t you?” He said as you pumped his cock a few times. His eyes blown completely wide with lust. “Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” He said as he lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist as he entered you easily. “So fucking wet.” He said as he gave you a moment to adjust to him.

��Tom, please move.” You begged as you moved your hips slightly into his. Your wish was seemingly his command as he drew his hips from your own before snapping them back into yours, eliciting a moan from you. He grasped your hands in his, pinning your wrists above your head in one hand as the other grasped your thigh.

You were both breathing heavily and moaning as Tom fucked you into the wall. The cold wall a stark contrast to your hot body. Tom adjusted himself slightly until he found your spot again, making sure to hit it with every thrust, your head falling onto his shoulder as you moaned, feeling your second orgasm approach. He felt you tighten around him and moaned.

“Shit, that feels amazing.” He groaned as he continued to fuck up into you. His lips finding your throat as he sucked harshly at the skin, sure to leave a mark. He dropped your wrists as he pinned you completely to the wall with his hands on your hips, your hands finding his back as you clawed at it, you’d never had sex like this.

“Tom, I’m gonna come.” You said as your head found his shoulder again, his lips finding your ear as he nibbled at the lobe.

“Come for me baby.” He spoke, voice dripping with lust as you released your orgasm, it washed over you in the best way. Moaning his name as your fingernails dug into his back and this spurred his release. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned as you felt hot streams of his come paint your heat.

His head found the crook of your neck as you both came down from your highs, he placed kisses against your neck and shoulder as he held you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He was resting most of his weight on you and you embraced it, wanting him as close as possible.

“Probably gonna need another shower after that.” Tom laughed into your neck and a wave of exhaustion and emotions came over you that you couldn’t explain. You’d both finally done it, let that tension snap and now you wondered where it left you. He was still inside you as a tear slipped down your cheek and onto his back.

“Hey.” He said as he pulled back to look at you worried look in his eye. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He panicked as he placed his hand on your face, smoothing his thumb over your cheek.

“No,” you shook your head as a few tears fell from your eyes. “I don’t want this to change anything.” You spoke quietly as Tom studied you, concerned look on his face.

“Baby, this changes everything.” He said softly as he rested his forehead against your own. “I hope this means we can be more.” He said as he kissed at your tears.

“I’ve liked you for so long Tom, I just. I’m sorry I don’t know what happened, a lot of emotions all at once I think.” You laughed lightly and Tom smiled as he kissed you again.

“I’ve liked you for ever, Y/N/N, for as long as I can remember.” He said, the three words were on the tips of both of your tongues, neither brave enough to say it yet. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” He said as he carried you into the bathroom.

Once you were showered and dressed in one of his shirts he pulled you into his chest as he kissed the top of your head, both of you tangled up in bed.

“Can I take you on a proper date?” He asked quietly as he ran a hand through your hair. You grinned up at him.

“I think that sounds like a really good idea.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine

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angelguk · 3 years

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yeah we hornae tonight!! this is jock!jk getting his soul sucked out by his gf in the locker room because y not! set in university. this is fairly recent into their relationships. jks really hot and oc is like wow??? cock in mouf sir?? mentions of derogatory language (yes oc has a degrading kink). cum swallowing. oral sex (m receiving). public sex. oc should be in class!! listen to still friends, not lovers by slchld. roughly 1.3k.

You should not be doing this. Especially when you have a lab with Professor Kim in twenty minutes. But Jeongguk had asked you to drop his keys after your morning lecture. He’d taken a ride to practise with Yunho earlier, leaving you to drive his car to the campus grounds, which you don't mind doing if it meant avoiding the hectic public transits. Jeongguk needed the car back though, something about doing errands for Namjoon after his lacrosse drills. So there you were, ambling to the university fields with your boyfriend’s keys swinging with every step you took. How you ended up here, your knees bruising the concrete floor of the locker room and your mouth stuffed full of cock was a mystery to anyone — including yourself.

Jeongguk on the other hand does not seem to mind the comparison positioning at all. If only you hadn’t walked in when he was fresh from the showers, white towel slung around his waist, and the firmness of his torso almost taunting you.

“Shit.” It’s whispered in the silence of the room, your tongue swirling over the head of his cock. “Open a little wider for me, baby.” Jeongguk murmurs, a stray hand coming to settle on the base of your neck. He doesn’t push, but the presence of his wide palm is enough to urge you onwards, jaw silently aching as you swallow him down. But the discomfort is worth it when you feel his thighs tense under your fingers, a slight tremor detected as his head bumps into the end of your throat. He’s fucking huge, the memory of him stretching your cunt out vivid. You can’t help but squirm, underwear soaked and your clit feeling neglected. It’s not like Jeongguk wouldn’t offer to alleviate your desire. You know if you asked he’d sixty-nine with you right here on the locker room bench. But there’s only so much you’re willing to risk being caught doing.

So you focus on this instead; on the weight of Jeongguk on your tongue, the minute twitches of his length as his hips rise up and up until your nose is burrowed into his crotch, and the feeling of your throat constricting tight.

“God,” his sounds gone, a string of swear words falling from his lips as you slip your mouth over him again. It’s loud and lewd, you hope nobody is lurking at the doors because it’s very clear that someone is getting the life sucked out of them. And it’s not like Jeongguk hides it, moaning low when your tongue licks a stripe so sinful he nearly blows his load. You pull off with a wet pop, feigning ignorance to the wildness darkening his brown eyes. The huff he lets out his winded, a slight annoyance colouring his voice.

“Do your friends know that you’re this much of a slut?” Why that word makes your walls seize up is undecipherable to you. You give him a kitten lick instead, enjoying the way his hips jolt violently.

“I’m not normally like this,” you return, fist-pumping at the base of his length before your thumb leaves a pressured trail along his tip. Jeongguk hisses under this breath, abs drawn tight, the curve in his stomach pretty. “You just make me feel crazy. This is your fault.”

He blinks, slowly processing what you just said, the feeling of your tongue returning to his slit not helping his brain. “I make you feel — This is my fault?” Jeongguk’s reaching out for you in an instant, dragging you into his lap as his needy fingers press on your dripping cunt through the fabric of your jeans. “Take off your clothes right now. I don’t care who walks in I need to be in you.”

He plants a kiss on your lips before you can protest, your fingertips threading through his damp curls. It's soft under your touch, velvet as your fingernails scrap at the base of his skull. You like that he likes this, tasting himself on your tongue with a fervour that drives you mad. But you have to tear yourself away, hips trying and failing not to buck into his wandering hands.

“Can’t,” you murmur, Jeongguk’s lips feather-light on your check. “I have class in 15.”

“You’re a fucking menace, why would you do this to me?” He groans, his length sitting heavy on your thigh and his hands gripping your waist tight. “Is it Chem? Professor Kim can wait. I’ll make you cum quick baby, I promise.”

“No,” you retort, pushing yourself off his lap. He lets your sink to the floor, pretty petal lips falling open as you take him back into your mouth. A few licks and Jeongguk is trembling again. It’s still fairly odd that you now know what he tastes like but ever since the first time, you’d let him fuck your throat open you’d never wanted him to stop. You like pleasing Jeongguk, seeing how he whines and squirms and groans whenever you swallow him whole, mouth warm and wet and ever so welcome to whatever he wants to give you. You ease off with a smile that seems innocent but Jeongguk has quickly come to learn that that’s never the case with you. You’re more wicked than he thought, enough kinks to leave him waddling to practise the next day because he didn’t know he could cum that hard before. Even now there’s an ache in his balls that’s begging to be released, the tension that strings him tight almost painful.

“I don’t want you to make me cum quick,” you murmur, lips sparking a blaze on his thigh when you bestow his skin with a kiss. “Not tonight, at least.”

He gets the hint instantly; you have a penchant for denial, something he didn’t peg you for but a kink that Jeongguk indulges in nonetheless. He loves the way you beg for him, mumbling into the mess of his sheets until he finally finally slips between your legs and pounds you hard enough for you to feel him there the next day. Just the flash of that image has precum leaking from his slit, a spurt that you eagerly clean up before dragging your mouth back on him. The fact that you’re only like this for him is what drives his hand there, palm holding your head in place as he bruises your throat. He high hits him like a snap, something sharp and electric as his bones melt and fuse back together in the same second, your throat painted white. You swallow it around him, eyes teary and a deliriousness clouding your vision. This shouldn’t feel good but it does, the sudden thought that you like being Jeongguk’s slut flashing swiftly in your brain.

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbles, the words he says slurring into each other. He grabs your waist as your rise, placing a chaste kiss to your hips, his fingers squeezing your thighs tight. He couldn’t stand if he tried, knees not functioning as his nerves buzz with warmth. “I’ll pick you up after your class, okay. I don’t think Namjoon needs me for that long.”

“I have a study date with Yubin, babes. I’ll text you when I’m done.” He glares at you from underneath the mess of his curls, his face flushed a perfect rouge.

“Why do I have a nerd for a girlfriend?”

You huff. “I just blew you in the middle of the locker room.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t let me make you feel good too.” Jeongguk rises then, his towel not following him. You can’t help but giggle as he lips slot against yours, tender but purposefully, enticing enough for your mouth to fall open, Jeongguk’s tongue meeting your own with ease. “Just skip the class, babe. Please,” he pleads, holding you tight, length already twitching to half-mast against your stomach.

You humour him for a second, before poking his side hard. “I don’t want to fail my classes. Now give me gum so I can go.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #au: jock!jaykay #bts x reader

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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this heavy humanness

Summary: Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

or; Spencer's suffered far too much abuse in his life and Derek knew about none of it. He shouldn't have found out like this.

Tags: est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, hurt spencer TW: implied/referenced - child abuse, abuse & csa. trauma response that could be perceived as dissociation. misplaced frustration at neurodivergence. nothing graphic but message me for more info if needed.

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This fills the "Domestic Violence" square of my Bad Things Happen Bingo. It's a heavy one folks so please heed the tags, but fear not, as always we have a happy ending ahead of us! <3 Title by Rainer Maria Rilke.

Spencer knows it’s ridiculous. Derek will not hurt him: this much he knows for certain. Derek is safe, he is home, he is his person. Derek would die before laying a hand on him.

This objective knowledge does not stop the fear from building in his chest, fizzling through his veins until his whole body is alight with it, simmering under the surface of his cold skin as Derek shouts, his face contorted in anger. Spencer might know that Derek won’t hurt him, but that doesn’t mean he can forget what’s happened in the past when he’s put that same expression on crueller people’s faces.

“How could you be so irresponsible, Spencer?”

He doesn’t know. The sinking feeling of failure, of disappointing someone he loves so much settles deep in his stomach as he watches Derek pace up and down the living room while he stays firmly planted on the sofa, pressed as far into the corner as he can.

He didn’t mean to leave the oven on overnight. Again. It’s just that sometimes he gets so lost in his head, in the studies he reads just before bed that getting ready for bed happens on auto-pilot, and small things like turning the oven off slip through the cracks. Derek’s never got this angry over it before, but that’s probably because he’s never said “yes” when Derek’s sleepily asked him if he remembered to turn it off, not when he actually didn’t.

He answered on auto-pilot. He didn’t mean to lie, but that doesn’t seem to matter that much to Derek as he wears down the living room carpet with his pacing, visibly seething. He tracks him with his eyes. He can’t afford to not see the blow coming.

The blow isn’t coming, he tries to tell himself. It’s not all that convincing when Derek stops mid-pace, turning to look at him dead in the eye.

“We could’ve died, Spencer! Does that mean nothing to you?”

Spencer doesn’t reply. He wants to, he really does, but the words are stuck in his throat, choked by fear and confusion and emotion and regret, God why didn’t I turn off the oven, I should’ve been better, it’s all my fault—

“Do you seriously not have anything to say?”

Spencer stares. He has so much to say. All of it is trapped in his throat, tangled in a mess of please don’t leave me and please god don’t hit me.

“You know, I can’t deal with this right now,” Derek mutters, throwing his hands up in the air, “this is unbelievable.” Spencer watches as he shrugs a coat over his shoulders, pulls on his shoes, pauses only to grab his wallet and keys, and walks out the door without looking back.

The door slams behind him and Spencer jumps at the loud noise, jolting out of his fear-ridden stupor, wincing as he’s forced out of his head and thrust back into reality. It’s only ten past ten in the morning; a nice, sunny Saturday in late Spring, and maybe in a different universe, Spencer and Derek are packing a wicker basket with a picnic, heading off to their favourite park to feed each other strawberries and enjoy jam-filled sandwiches.

In this universe, though, Spencer drags his heavy bones to the bathroom, and peels off his clothes. He feels weighed down, tied to some point of gravity far below his feet as he avoids the mirror at all costs and lets his pajamas lay where they fall instead of gathering them into a ball and throwing them into the hamper like he usually does. He turns the water on and steps under the spray, allowing himself to revel in the warm rivulets of water caressing his cold skin.

Shampoo bottles stand untouched in the caddy to his left. He’s not there to get clean, he’s there to forget and to think all at the same time. Slowly, he sinks to the floor, leaning against the wall as the water cascades down his front, but not before he turns the heat up. It’s a small comfort: the water just on the right side of too hot running down his face and his torso and his legs, pooling at his feet momentarily before sliding down the drain, never to be seen by him again.

Today shouldn’t have started like this, and it’s a hard pill to swallow that if he hadn’t left the oven on, it wouldn’t have. Derek would have smiled when Spencer stepped into the kitchen, pulled him into his arms and kissed him gently before making them pancakes while Spencer sat on the counter-top and told him everything running through his head. Derek would listen, enthralled, whether to the sound of Spencer’s voice or the words he’s saying, and he wouldn’t shut him up, not even when they sat down to eat.

They’d finally get ready for the day late in the morning, they’d decide what they would do that day, and they’d make a point to steal as many kisses as they could; making up for the affection lost during long cases.

Spencer knows this because it’s happened so many times before. They may have only been dating for just over six months, but they already live together, having fallen hard and fast; Emily teases them for it, calls them her favourite lesbian couple, and they don’t care because they’re in love.

Despite that, though, Spencer still hasn’t told Derek.

There are nights he lies awake pondering how unfair that is. He’s held Derek as he sobbed over memories of Buford, as he spilled every awful detail of the abuse he endured; he’s comforted him after he’d tried and failed to bottom, falling into a flashback every time, no matter how much he wanted to try it.

But Spencer stays silent. He doesn’t tell him about his dad beating him, or his mom getting confused off her meds and smacking him, shoving him, even punching him that one time. He doesn’t tell him about Matthew, his first real boyfriend, trapping him in an abusive relationship that took him months to get the courage to leave. About how when a third person hurt him, he began to wonder whether it really was his fault. Whether that was the only kind of love Spencer Reid deserved.

He stays silent now, staring at the shower wall. The fear has left him now the threat has too, and a cold type of numbness replaces it, and even once the water runs cold, he doesn’t leave. He traces the same four tiles with his eyes, drawing the same pattern with his gaze over and over again as his thoughts turn to an endless cycle of he’ll leave me, he’ll stay, he’ll hit me, he won’t, until he’s not really sure what he believes.

Derek is a good man, but Spencer knows how he can be. He messes up, he forgets things, he doesn’t read situations right, he doesn’t behave the way people think he should, he doesn’t think like a neuro-typical person does. And a good man can only put up with that for so long.

The proof is in the pudding, after all. Derek has always been understanding of things like this in the past. He’s given him a hug and told him not to worry about it, that mistakes happen, and no one can be expected to remember small things like this all the time. But this morning, he was furious. Spencer’s not sure he’s ever seen him so angry in all his years of knowing him, and it was directed at him. All because of an oven left on.

Eventually, a sound from the upstairs apartment drags him from his head again, and he’s suddenly aware of the cold water, of the way his body is trembling and his fingers are pruning. He pulls himself out of the shower, turning the water off, but he stands in the middle of the bathroom, aimlessly, for a long time. By the time he finally has the sense to wrap a towel around his body, he’s basically dripped dry. His hair is soaking wet and the dripping water is freezing, but he doesn’t have the energy to find a towel for his head, too, so he leaves it.

He walks towards the bedroom and climbs into bed, pulling the fluffy duvet over his damp skin and laying his wet hair on the pillow. It feels awful, being wet and damp under the dry bedding, but he doesn’t have the energy to move, so he stays there, towel still wrapped around his legs, hair still soaking the pillow, and he stares at the wall.

He doesn’t know what time it is, and he doesn’t know when Derek will come back home. If he ever will.

⭐️

Derek slams the door behind him as he storms out of the apartment, rage consuming his every move, his every thought. The force of it rattles the door frame, echoing down the empty corridor, but he can’t find it in him to care as he marches towards the elevator. The buttons are pressed with perhaps a little more aggression than socially acceptable, but the woman already on board takes one look at his face and has the sense to stay quiet.

He gets in his car and steps on the gas, the squeal of his tyres against the floor of the garage as he speeds out satisfying him more than it probably should. His jaw is locked and tight as he drives through the streets of DC, his thoughts going a million miles an hour, quieted only when he turns the radio up loud, a blasting soundtrack to his ferocious getaway.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he speeds down the highway, heading out of the city towards Baltimore. He doesn’t have a destination in mind: he’s just driving straight. Straight away from the apartment. Away from Spencer.

It’s after more than an hour of driving that his jaw finally loosens and the anger that had simmered in his blood so fiercely fades into reluctant rationality. He’s somewhere in the middle of Baltimore, and the traffic — the tangled road system he actually has to focus on — drags him from the absent headspace the highway had allowed him to slip into.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and turns off the road he’s on, onto a quieter one. As soon as he’s able to pull over, he does, and he hits the steering wheel angrily. “Fuck!” He leans forward, pulling off his sunglasses and burying his head in his hands. It’s not the same kind of anger he’d felt earlier, no. This time it’s directed purely at himself, fuelled by dismal regret.

Before he can stop it, his brain replays the fight with Spencer over and over, the wall he’d put up to block it out crumbling down as images of his boyfriend flood his mind. He hadn’t registered it in the moment, but looking back, God. There was something on Spencer’s face, something so broken, so scared and he feels nauseous at the realisation that he put that there.

Over something as fucking stupid as an oven.

Truthfully, he wasn’t really angry at Spencer. Waking up to see the oven left on again, even after Spencer promised he’d turned it off, was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He’d fought with both his mom and Penelope yesterday, and he went to bed feeling like an utter failure, made even worse when Spencer had declined to join him, deciding instead to keep reading the series of papers he’d started earlier that evening. He woke up in a foul mood, and not even the sight of his peacefully sleeping boyfriend could make him feel better.

It’s his own fault. He should have communicated with Spencer: he should’ve told him about letting his mom down and saying the worst thing he possibly could have in his conversation with Penelope, but he didn’t. He silently stewed, and felt irrationally angry that Spencer wasn’t reading his mind. He knows for an absolute fact that if he’d asked Spencer to join him in bed last night, he would’ve dropped his studies immediately, and cuddled him until he felt better.

But he didn’t. And then he’d screamed at Spencer, in a way he never has before, over something he simply forgot to do. Derek swore to himself that he would never shout at or put Spencer down for his neurodivergent traits. Not in the way he’s seen so many people — regrettably, far too many of them on their own team — do before.

He’s always been understanding in the past, kissed Spencer’s hair and promised that it wasn’t a big deal, and he has always meant it. Because as dramatic as he’d been this morning, leaving the oven on wasn’t really the end of the world. He remembers ranting about the electricity bill, about how they were going to afford the house they were going to buy if he kept this up, about lying to him — even though he knew that was clearly an auto-pilot thing — about how dangerous it was. It’s a fan oven. They were never really in any danger.

What a god-awful way to let off the steam he’d built up and chosen not to let go.

As if he’s not already feeling shitty enough, though, his mind won’t stop circling back to the fear on Spencer’s face. The way he shouted back, but instead crammed himself into the corner of the sofa, never taking his eyes off him as he paced angrily back and forth.

He feels sick.

He digs his phone from the pocket in his sweatpants. He’s still in the clothes he sleepily pulled on in the dark this morning, and he hadn’t thought to bring his phone out with him, but luckily he’d picked it up off the kitchen counter that morning.

He clicks on Spencer’s name, listens to it ringing out as he desperately begs him to pick up. “Come on, baby, please,” he whispers, ignoring the tears burning behind his eyes. “Pick up, please.” He tries three more times before throwing it angrily on the seat next to him, allowing one more second of feeling the blind panic and the fury at himself before forcing himself to calm down.

Reaching over to his phone with one hand to turn the ringer up, he turns the ignition on and pulls back onto the road, heading back towards DC.

The traffic infuriates him, cursing as it takes thirty minutes to get back on the highway, but finally he’s back on the open road. It takes everything in him not to speed past the other cars, knowing that getting pulled over would only slow him down in the long run. He doesn’t turn the radio on. He just replays the fight again and again, each time remembering something new: something he said or something Spencer did.

He doesn’t wipe the tears away as they fall, lets them slide uncomfortably down his neck, under his collar, lets them drip into his lap, lets his nose run. It’s the only punishment he can afford himself right now.

Finally, finally, he pulls into their apartment building’s garage, finding their spot and parking roughly, abandoning the car as quickly as possible in favour of sprinting towards the elevator. He curses at the slow moving carriage, but it eventually spits him out on his floor, and he’s walking down the very corridor he stormed down just a few hours prior.

He pushes open the door to their apartment, closing it behind him softly. Suddenly, the nausea swimming in his gut isn’t just borne from regret, now fuelled by nerves and dreaded anticipation.

“Spence?” he calls softly.

He doesn’t know what to expect: he doesn’t know whether Spencer will be sad or angry, whether he’ll be screaming or crying. The kitchen and living room are empty, and the bathroom door is wide open, so he ventures into their bedroom.

Whatever he was expecting, it isn’t this.

Spencer’s tucked up in bed, duvet pulled up to his neck, facing away from the door. He doesn’t move so Derek thinks he might be sleeping, but when he circles the bed to check, he finds his eyes wide open, staring vacantly at a fixed point on the wall. They don’t flicker or blink or move when he steps into his field of vision, and Derek’s heart sinks, panic beginning to grip his chest.

“Spencer? Baby?”

When he still doesn’t move, Derek crawls onto the bed, and the movement or the sound or something must finally catch his attention, because all of a sudden his eyes are widening — in shock, surprise, fear, Derek doesn’t know — and he’s shifting under the covers.

“You’re back,” he says, and it’s so uneasy that Derek wants to cry.

“Yeah, baby, I’m back,” he says gently, “and I’m so sorry about earlier, I—”

He cuts himself off, because when he reaches to tangle his fingers in Spencer’s damp hair, he flinches. His hand freezes, but his stomach twists, because this is the confirmation he was both expecting and dreading. This is the confirmation of everything he prayed he had wrong, everything he wished he’d misinterpreted the whole drive home.

“Spence,” he whispers brokenly, withdrawing his hand, “I would never— never do… I’d never hurt you, God, I—”

A choked sob cuts him off this time, and another follows when he sees a tear sliding down Spencer’s face. A previously blank, emotionless canvas, his face is now full of sadness, tinged with the fear and guilt Derek hates himself for even suggesting was warranted in the first place.

“Derek,” he says softly, and his voice is so mangled with emotions he couldn’t even begin to decipher, it breaks his heart a little. He doesn’t say anything more though, eyes sliding shut instead as tears continue to stream down his face.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. “Anything, I— anything you need, you can have, Spence, I’d give you the world, you know that.”

Spencer’s quiet for a long time, and Derek sits there on the bed anxiously awaiting a response while trying to summon all the patience he doesn’t have as he stares at Spencer’s crying face.

“A hug,” he decides eventually, and Derek almost collapses in relief because, God, he can do that.

He crosses the small space between them, and carefully folds Spencer into a hug, sighing in relief as he melts into Derek’s side, placing his head on his chest and cuddling into him. Their legs tangle together and Derek holds him as gently and as closely as he can, carding his fingers through Spencer’s damp curls while his other hand rests on his waist, his thumb caressing the bare skin there.

He’s still in his towel, he thinks sadly. He didn’t have the energy to properly dry himself before crawling into bed. As if Derek could possibly feel shittier.

They lay like that quietly for a while before Spencer finally speaks. Derek wishes he hadn’t. The words “I’m sorry”, uttered so brokenly, so miserably, have no business leaving Spencer’s mouth.

“Baby, you have nothing to apologise for,” he says fiercely. “This is all on me. I’m sorry. Sorrier than I’ve ever been, Spencer, because this is completely my fault. I wasn’t actually angry at you, that’s the first thing you need to know, and I know that makes what I did so shitty, because you hadn’t even done anything wrong, but I was so pent up and frustrated with myself and I didn’t communicate that with you and— fuck, I’m doing such a bad job of explaining, I just. I need you to know, Spencer, that I’m not angry, okay? And I’m so sorry for losing it like I did, that never should have happened.”

He pauses and takes a breath in, burying his face in Spencer’s hair as he holds him even tighter, trying to keep his grip as gentle as possible.

“I never told you,” Spencer whispers after a couple beats pass.

Derek’s heart seizes tightly and he swallows. Prepares himself. “Never told me what, sweetheart?”

“My dad, he… he wasn’t a good man and he… you know, he hurt me a lot. And then my mom, when he left and she stopped taking her meds completely, she’d get so confused,” Spencer admits, voice so quiet as he murmurs into Derek’s chest that he has to strain to hear him. “She didn’t mean to, but she’d… And then my last boyfriend, he—”

He cuts himself off as a heaving sob that seems to come out of nowhere strangles his words and it’s all Derek can do to hold him tightly as Spencer cries, whispering every reassurance he can think of through his own tears. It shouldn’t be like this, he thinks. I shouldn’t know this just because of an argument we had; just because I lost control. Spencer should’ve been able to tell me on his own terms, in his own time.

He tries to cry as silently as possible, but it’s not easy when the grief of knowing the pain Spencer’s suffered in his life is weighing heavy on his chest, and the acidic taste of guilt abounds.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into Spencer’s hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He’s sorry for so many things he’s not sure he could list them all out, neatly and coherently, if he tried.

Spencer fists his hands in the soft cotton of Derek’s t-shirt. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

Derek balks at the guilt in his tone, as if he actually believes he has anything to apologise for. “Baby, you could’ve waited until we were old and grey to tell me and I wouldn’t be mad, okay? Trauma like this… it comes out in it’s own way in it’s own time. I’m not sure how or when I would’ve told you about Buford if everyone hadn’t found out the way they did. And if I’d waited to tell you, you wouldn’t be mad at me, would you?”

Spencer shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry that I triggered you the way I did, Spencer,” Derek says seriously, gently twirling a loose curl around his fingers. “It was inexcusable, and it was a problem of my own making. I know you didn’t mean to leave the oven on and I know you were operating on auto-pilot when you told me you turned it off last night, and nothing I said was true. I was mad about stuff that happened yesterday and I failed to communicate that. It’s all on me. Nothing about this is your fault, you hear me?”

“Really?”

The way Spencer cranes his neck to look up at him, the trusting innocence in his eyes both breaking and warming Derek’s heart. “Really.”

“I want to tell you, Der, it’s just—” He sighs. “I’ve never talked about it with anyone, and it’s hard. I don’t… I don’t know where to start.”

“We have all the time in the world for you to tell me, baby. You can tell me everything all at once, or drop tiny pieces of information when you feel like it, or never tell me anything else ever again, and any of that is perfectly okay. I just need you to know that what happened this morning will never happen again, okay? I promise you.”

Spencer shifts, moving from his position curled around Derek to prop himself up with one arm, facing his boyfriend properly. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, before leaning down to kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. More than anything.” He kisses him again before moving the duvet and making to get up. “Now, how about I order us some pizza for lunch and we spend the afternoon in bed. You can read or we can watch some documentaries or a movie, whatever you want.”

A small smile crosses Spencer’s face, and nothing’s ever felt more like a win.

“I think that sounds like a plan.”

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @moreidtrash @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @enbyspencer @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #criminal minds #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid x derek morgan #cm #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #moreid fic #moreid angst #tw domestic violence #tw abuse #tw csa mention #moreid fluff

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 3 years

Text

Turtle - Leonard McCoy

A/N: Hi all! Here’s the third fic of my Disney prompts! There was no way I couldn’t use this gif for this fic.

Prompt: Toy Story 2, “I’m sorry, but toys don’t last forever.”

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader Word Count: 1,456 Synopsis: When the reader seems upset, Leonard gets to the bottom of what upset them, and finds the culprit to be a broken toy from their past.

“Bones, you need to get a hold on your woman,” Jim said as he strolled into Med Bay. Leonard looked up from the pad in front of him with a scrunch of his eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, you need to--”

“No, I heard you,” Leonard said, walking over to Jim’s side. “I’m just wondering why you said it. Need a good punch?” Kirk smiled at Leonard slightly and put up his hands defensively.

“All I’m saying is, she’s in a terrible mood.”

“Ah, that,” Leonard said. He let out of sigh. “She was like that this morning, too.”

“Not providing your husbandly duties?” Jim asked. Leonard smacked his arm with the pad in his hands.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what’s wrong with Y/N. But no, I know it’s got nothing to do with my ‘husbandly duties,’ as you so lovingly said. What did she do?”

“I was being my usual charming self--”

“So you were being an asshole,” Leonard corrected, turning his attention back to the patient chart before him.

“Yes, but Y/N usually likes me being an asshole. But today she didn’t want to put up with it at all.”

“What did she say?” Leonard asked tiredly.

“She said if I kept annoying her she would push me out an air lock.”

“And?”

“And she said this was why I can’t keep a steady relationship.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I could help, but I’m busy here. And it’s best to just let her cool off,” Leonard said. Jim gave him a pleading look, like he couldn’t stand working with you for any longer. Like he was afraid to. “Just stay out of her way.”

“You know, between the two of you and Spock, I can’t go anywhere without getting harassed.”

“So sorry,” Leonard said with a smile, clapping Jim on the shoulder in goodbye.

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

When Leonard got back to your cabin that evening, you were still out. If what Jim had said was to be believed, you would be in a bad mood when you came home, so Leonard got to work making sure your home was perfect for when you arrived. He cleaned up the living room and kitchen before getting to work on dinner.

When you walked into the cabin a little while later, you were greeted by the smell of garlic and tomatoes. You stepped into the kitchen to find Leonard standing over a pot of pasta.

“Hi,” you said tiredly.

“Hey darling,” Leonard said, holding out his arms for you. You went to him and let him wrap you in his strong embrace as you savored the smell of dinner.

“How was your day?”

“Meh,” you said. “Is this ready?”

“Yeah,” Leonard said, reaching for a plate. He followed you over to your small dining table and studied you as you started to eat.

“What?” you asked.

“Am I not allowed to look at my beautiful wife?”

“What did Jim say?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.” You turned your attention back to the food before you.

“Although you had a little bit of a temper with me this morning.”

“I’m sorry,” you said through a mouthful of pasta. Leonard smiled at you gently.

“So, is there something you want to talk about?”

“The only thing I want, honey, is another plate of this, and a nice hot shower,” you said, reaching over to touch his hand. “But I appreciate your concern.”

Leonard let the topic drop for a while. He got you another plate of dinner and let you take a shower first. Even if he did offer to join you in the shower.

When he heard the faucet turn on, he fell onto your bed and closed his eyes. He had had a long day too, and when he rolled over to get more comfortable, something dug into his back.

“What the hell?” He reached underneath him and pulled out a toy turtle. “What the hell?” he said again. He was so confused with the turtle in his hands that he didn’t hear the shower turn off or you walk into the bedroom.

“Oh.”

“What is this?” he asked, turning back to you.

“Squirt.”

“What?”

“It’s my toy turtle, Squirt,” you said, shaking your head. You took Squirt back from Leonard and frowned.

“Is Squirt always in our bed?”

“No,” you said, laughing slightly. Leonard raised an eyebrow at you, not wanting to push. “I brought him out of storage,” you said, “Yesterday. And I found his fin was broken.”

“Oh,” Leonard said. And when he looked up into your eyes, he saw tears were forming. “Oh, baby,” he said, pulling you into his lap, not caring about the wet towel wrapped around you. “It’s alright. I’m sorry, but toys aren’t made to last forever,” he said.

“I know, it’s just . . .” you shook your head as a few tears slipped free. Leonard tucked you into his arms tighter.

“It’s just what?”

“We talked the other night about starting a family soon,” you said quietly. “And I always figured I would give my kids the toys I loved when I was young. And when I found it was broken, it just felt like a bad sign.” Leonard nodded his head and kissed your forehead gently.

“It’s not a bad sign,” he said quietly. “They just, they aren’t meant to last.”

“I know, and I know I’m being stupid--”

“You’re not,” he said, tilting your chin so you could look him in the eye. “Is that why you’ve been--”

“A bitch?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But you have been a little irritable.”

“Yes, that’s why,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, it’s understandable. I’m sorry Squirt broke,” he said, smiling a little. “But it’s not a bad sign. If and when we have kids, they’re going to have so many toys of their own, they won’t need a toy turtle. But they will know how much their parents love them.”

“I guess,” you said, sniffing back some tears.

“Let’s get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Leonard waited until you were in your pajamas and snuggled up in his arms, and then until you were finally snoring softly before he crawled out of bed. He picked up the turtle from the side table next to you and brought it out into the kitchen.

He examined the turtle and found that it’s tiny plastic fin had snapped off. If he pressed a button underneath it, the fins moved, except the broken one.

He glanced into your bedroom once more to make sure you were asleep before slipping out of your cabin.

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

“Morning, Leo,” you said sleepily when you opened your eyes and found your husband still soundly asleep next to you. He grumbled something, clearly still not wanting to wake up, so you snuggled into his arms.

“Did you see your surprise?” he asked groggily.

“What surprise?”

“On the table,” he said, tilting his head a little. You rolled out of his arms and looked to your bedside table. You switched on the light and saw Squirt, with all four arms.

“What did you do?” you asked. He sat up next to you and took the turtle in his hands and waved it around with a smile. “You fixed him?”

“I may have gotten a little help from Scotty, but--”

“I love you,” you said, pouncing on him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips, his nose, his cheek, his neck, until he was laughing.

“I love you, too.”

“You’re the greatest husband,” you said. “And you’ll make an amazing parent one day.”

“And so will you. Now, can we please go back to bed?”

“How long did this take to fix?”

“A few hours.” You kissed him again and nodded your head. He laid back down on his pillow and you curled up in his arms, Squirt in your arms.

“I love you, Leonard,” you said. He mumbled something sleepily that sounded a lot like ‘I wub you doo,’ and went to sleep.

#leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x you #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy fanfic #leonard mccoy fanfiction #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek fanfic #star trek fanfiction

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

I’ve been listening to ‘tis the damn season far too many times to be healthy and idk about the end of the year, it’s always so depressive? So I’m thinking... how would Marcus Moreno comfort a girl in this situation? But they’re not officially together yet 😶💕

Perhaps some heartbreak? Perhaps some soft Marcus fluff? Both? Both!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader ; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The rain was falling down in absolute buckets and it was nearing one in the morning, and it was dark and freezing and... you shouldn't have been there, you shouldn’t have come, you shouldn’t have done a lot of things, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You’d hastily thrown your things in the old, worn suitcase and gotten the soonest flight home. Home - your real home, the one you enjoyed being in, the one where you felt you alive and loved. Your parents’ home wasn’t home - not anymore anyway. It hadn’t been for a long time, and you should have realized that. Going back was a mistake; you should have stayed back and home and spent the holidays with Marcus and Missy, just how he had asked - insisted even. But no; you’d been stubborn and insisted that you hadn’t wanted to intrude on his celebration with his daughter, his family. You are family, Marcus promised sincerely, those chocolate brown eyes crinkling in the corners and that singular dimple proudly on display.

You panicked; your heart constricted and clenching as you listened to his words. And gods, you’d wanted to stay, wanted to say yes. But you couldn’t - couldn’t do it to your heart. You’d loved him so much it hurt, physically ached, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell him. What if he didn’t feel the same, what if he saw you as just a friend, a neighbor, something? You weren’t about to set yourself up for failure and a broken heart.

And yet...here you were, pounding on his door in the middle of the night, tears running down your cheeks as they mixed in with the fat, cold drops of rain. Heartbroken.

Joke was on you; you’d ended up in pain either way.

Tis the damn season, you’d scoff at yourself.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you lowered your hand from the door. You couldn’t be doing - showing up at his door in the middle of the night and waking him up. It wasn’t fair to him; he was such a good man, and he didn’t deserve to be forced to deal with you in this state and to pick up the pieces. It would be cruel; he was much more than just a shoulder to cry and he didn’t need to do this for you. No, you’d go home and cry it out and pick yourself up by the bootstraps just like you’d done before, “fuck.”

You wiped at your wet eyes with your even wetter sleeve, bitterly laughing at your idiotic move and turning to walk back home. Maybe the walk in the cold rain would work to bring some sort of clarity to your mind or...something. It was almost cathartic in a way; to be forced to come to terms with the choices of your actions, and inactions, as you walked home in the silence of the wee morning hours.

Just as you got to the end of the driveway, you heard the door open slowly, followed by the most reverent whisper of your name that you’d ever heard. You turned on your heel, trying to keep your lip from trembling as you looked up at Marcus. He pulled the door fully open before running over to you without a moment of hesitation, or a care in the world as he easily became soaked as well.

“I'm sorry!" you almost yelled over the rain as he reached for your hand in order to pull you into the sanctuary of the warm house, "I didn't mean to wake you up. I-I-I should go."

"You didn't," he insisted, gently pulling you along with him, "I was in my office - I almost didn't hear you over the rain."

"Missy-"

"She's at her friend's house for the weekend," he explained as you relaxed and acquiesced to his touch and let him lead you inside, "but you are going to come in and warm up and tell me what's going on."

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Better?” Marcus’ voice was soft as you padded back into the kitchen, now in a fresh new set of clothes - his clothes. He’d been insistent that you take a hot shower to warm up and gave you a clean set of pajamas. You hadn’t been expecting for them to be the softest things you’d ever worn, or for his smell to cling onto them as much. It was enough to make you weak in the knees as you had slipped them on, smelling of his soap, shampoo, and now sporting his clothes. His eyes flicked up when he saw you come in, his lips parting slightly as his tongue darted out to wet them; he hadn’t expected to quite feel that when he took in the sight of you in his clothes...but damn.

“Yes,” you nodded softly as you walked over to the him, pulling out one of the stools at the island and slipping onto it. Marcus had busied himself with making hot chocolate - complete with mini marshmallows, just like you loved, “thank you for everything, Marcus.”

“Don’t mention it,” he tried to play it off as cool, but relished in the small praise as he set the large mug in front of you, before grabbing his own and making his way around to you. You tried to suppress the wild beating of your heart as he took the spot next to you, his leg brushing against yours and causing a flurry of sparks to run down your spine.

The two of you sat in contemplative silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your spoons in the mugs and the sipping of cocoa sounding in the quiet space. There was an ease, an instant sense of comfort and warmth that inhibited everything when Marcus was around. It was easy to know that this was home; nothing else mattered.

Before you could get too deeply lost in thought, Marcus gently nudged his leg against yours, capturing your attention. You turned to face, watching as he pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He looked tired, and a sense of annoyance at yourself settled into your bones. You shouldn’t have disturbed what was likely the only bit of peace he had experienced in a while. Marcus must have been a mind reader or something because he slowly shook his head and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not you, hon-” he stopped himself but his would be pet name was not lost on either of you. It wasn’t usual for him to call you something sweet; honey, sweetheart, love. You just never thought much about it, chalking it up to him being a nice man who liked to give his people pet names. But this was different - there was something much more left to be said, “will you tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s silly,” you said softly, not sure if you wanted to humiliate yourself in front of him right now. Not sure if you wanted to delve into what both of you could feel bubbling up to the surface. But you couldn’t deny it any longer, both of you had been dancing around the issue, skirting it at best, for so long. Maybe this was the push in the right direction that you both needed, maybe it was time to stop running just because you were scared, “I...ugh, I shouldn’t have gone home to my parents.”

Marcus paused for a moment, nodding slowly in a knowing manner. The two of you had been friends - foolish oblivious friends - for years, and there were no secrets at this point, he knew you inside out and you knew him just as intimately, “you saw him.”

“Yeah,” you blew a long exhale before laughing at yourself, “I should have listened to you - it was stupid to go. It’s not home, it hasn’t been for a long time. This is home - you’re home.”

“What did he say?” Marcus’ hand closed tightly into a fist as he tried not to make his fuming too obvious, “did he-”

“No,” before you could stop yourself, you’d put your hand on his, slowly unclenching it from its closed position, inviting him to relax, “he just...nothing happened. He...he said I’d changed. That it was stupid for me to show up.”

“Why?” his breath hitched in throat as the word caught and he tried not to panic too much. Internally it was like the Kill Bill sirens were going off and his whole body was beating like his wild heart.

“He said even though it was just a mindless fuck, he couldn’t do it,” you admitted with a shaky breath, “that I didn’t belong there - back at my parents, back in that stupid town - anymore. That I should go back to my real home with the man I loved.”

“And what did you tell him?” Marcus was positive there were only a few times in his life when he’d been this nervous before - the day he’d gotten married, the day he found out he was going to be a father, the first time he’d held Missy in arms and now...this.

“I...I told him that it wasn’t possible,” you admitted softly, as Marcus’ eyes were glued onto yours, “because there was no way that the man I love would love me back. Because he is everything, and I am a mere...I’m just me. But I left and packed and got on the first flight back here - home.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Think what?”

“That the man that you love doesn’t love you?” your throat felt tight as you allowed yourself to look up and met his eyes. His expression was soft - gentle - and the ghost of a smile was tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“Because you could never love me, Marcus,” you finally said it out loud, answering the silent question that had been lingering between the two of you for so long.

“And why is that?”

“Look at you,” you blinked back a few tears, “you’re amazing and wonderful and you’re perfect and I am such a mess. I couldn’t even...I show up on your doorstep, a crying pathetic mess, and here you are, amazing as always and picking up all the pieces. I - fuck - I would never flatter myself into thinking you loved me.”

“I do,” he said softly, turning to face you properly and reaching for your face to gently cradle it in his large hands. His gaze was intense as he studied you, and your stomach dropped. Did he...was he… he loved you? Marcus wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your cheek, “yeah, I do love you, honey. I have for a long time now - we both know it. I think we just got so scared, so caught up in ourselves that we never said it.”

“Oh,” you looked at him with the sweetest expression as he just beamed at you, “I...I love you, Marcus. I have wanted to say that to you forever, but I was so nervous...I just never…”

Before you could continue to ramble, Marcus leaned over and kissed you; it was soft, and gentle, sweet - but with a hint of longing as you practically melted into his touch. Kissing him was, to put it simply, utterly perfect. There was no fumbling awkwardness and no learning curve, it just was.

When you pulled back for a breath of air, he held you close, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, his nose nuzzled against yours.

“I…” you sighed softly, contentedly, as you chased his lips with your own for a few more kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he promised firmly, “you are home - you are family. Please don’t ever doubt that again.”

“How could I?” you whispered, “when you make me feel like this? I am never happier than when I’m with you, with Missy - never.”

“Neither are we,” he promised, “you are everything, just like you think I am. I will never let you forget that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #wcbh #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #sighhhh #i love him

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sashi-ya · 3 years

Text

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.1

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages. ♥ TW: Nightmares related to PTSD. no further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥ ♥English is not my first language, so If you happen to find some grammar or vocab mistakes, I’m sorry ♥´

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31053383

Word count: 4.1K

» List of parts: {CH1} {CH2} {CH3} {CH4} {CH5} «

Chapter 1

- Polar Tang, somewhere underwater on the Grand Line. July 14th. -

“Ay ay captain, I need fresh air please, I’m dying!” Shouted Bepo asking our captain, and my best friend, Trafalgar D Water Law to please emerge from underwater. Bepo is a polar bear mink, and does not like hot environments, so he is usually hot whenever we pass a lot of time underwater in the submarine.

“Let’s emerge, guys” said Law, annoyed, but willing to make the polar bear feel better. Me, despite not being a polar bear, I’m always hot, so I praised the lord for the decision.

“Aya aya, Thank you captain!!!” Bepo celebrated and grabbed me by the arm pulling me eagerly to the main door, because he knew how much I love to get fresh air, as much as he does.

From the control room, Shachi and Penguin shouted, announcing that we can fully unlock the door. And so, we did. Outside there was a clear blue sky, the sun was shining, but apparently, we were close to some winter islands, so the temperature was lower than we were expecting.

Fresh cold air hit my freckled cheeks and it felt wonderful. “Oi, Y/n-ya, don’t go outside without your coat. You are going to catch a cold”, said Law while placing a white coat over my shoulders. My best friend, despite the unfriendly appearance he normally shows, has the biggest heart and takes care of the one he loves.

I’ve known him since we were 13 years old, while wandering on a certain island of the North Blue after losing my family. A few weeks before knowing him, I found the Nagi no mi and became the user of it. So, when we introduced ourselves, we realized I was the new user of the devil fruit that had “Cora-san”, the person that saved Law’s life. Both of us were alone, and sad, so we held onto each other, striving to survive. I wanted to become a doctor like him, so we studied together. Now I’m his right hand whenever we have a surgery.

“Aren’t you coming outside?” I asked Law, which was still inside, looking through the door with a listlessly gaze at the immense sea around us. He looked at me, sighed and said, “Tomorrow is 15th”. He didn’t wait for my response and walked away.

Our captain still misses “Corazón”, Rosinante, or “Cora-san”, as he usually calls him, and on July 15th was his birthday. He was killed by his brother, Donquixote Doflamingo, who was taken down and sent to prison by Law and the Mugiwaras, a few months ago. I didn’t say a word, mainly because I knew how Law hates to show his feelings and even if I decide to say something, it wasn't going to help at all. The afternoon went by, and while the crew was having fun relaxing on the deck, Law didn’t show up. So, I proceeded to go see him, he usually loves to be alone, but this time I felt he needed some company.

I headed straight to the kitchen, made his favorite tea and went to his room. “Oi, Doc, you’ve been there for a good 5 hours, I brought your fave tea. Can I come in?”, I asked, but didn’t receive any answer, so I knocked, and the door opened. “I’m sorry dumbass, it was unlocked, I brought some tea for… “I stopped when I saw Law on the floor, with red cheeks, sweated and unconscious holding something red on his hand. “Law, what the hell?” I said while placing my hand over his forehead. His skin was burning. He was running a strong fever that caused him to faint. I was worried because I didn’t know how much time had passed since he had fainted. In any case I needed to make the temperature go down, as quick as possible.

“Law, Law, are you with me?” I asked him while grabbing him by the shoulders making soft movements. The captain vaguely opened his eyes and said “Y/n-ya… I’m ok, do… don’t worry”, “Of course you are not, your temperature is really high, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?, come on you should take a bath right away”. He passed his arm around my neck and I grabbed him by his waist. Law is pretty tall, but I am stronger than I seemed, so I made him stand up and took him to the bathroom.

I turned on the shower and helped Law to undress. Taking off first his sweated white shirt and then unbuttoning his jeans. I left him only with his boxers on, that made me giggle a little ‘because they had a heart pattern all over.

The laughing was over because he became pretty weak so in order to avoid him falling, I had to grab him real tight, making myself enter to the open douche. We remained for a few seconds looking at each other under the running water, until he slipped a sloppy laugh at how I was becoming wet. “Dumbass don’t laugh” I apprehended him. I remained there for a few minutes letting the slightly cold water bathe his whole body, waiting for the temperature to drop. I realized I’ve never been that close to him, we usually had zero physical contact, and as weird as it might sound this was the first time, I saw that he has more tattoos than I thought.

“Sexy motherfucker look what you’ve been hiding”, I thought, but quickly I uprooted those thoughts off my head. “Come on, Y/n, he is like your brother….”.

I turned off the water, extended my arm out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Wrapped him with it and as I was doing so, I noticed that Law was looking at my chest, still weak but now able to stand up without my help.

“Take off your wet boxers, I’m not watching” I said, turning my back to him. To which he responded, “I don’t care if you look, you are like my doctor”.

“Oh, come on, tell me when you are ready”, I said, a little embarrassed.

A few seconds later he told me he was ready and I turned back at him again, realizing that now the towel was hanging from his hip bones, leaving his whole tattooed torso naked, his hair was pretty straight from being wet and his cheeks now don’t show as much blush as before. I admired the image of the handsome man I got before my eyes for less than two seconds and told him to go to bed. I helped him to get into bed carefully not to untie the white towel, because he was still a little weak.

“Wait here, I’m going to the infirmary to get you some antipyretics, ok?” I ordered pointing at him.

I was about to walk out the bedroom when I heard him say “Oi, dumbass, are going out looking like that?, Put on one of my shirts” and I realized that my underwear was showing through the transparency of my wet clothes. I widened my eyes, and my cheeks turned to fire. Without saying anything I opened the drawers grabbing a shirt and some shorts he had there. I ran to the bathroom where I got changed and left the bedroom without even looking at him.

I walked through the hallway feeling my heartbeat faster, trying to dismiss the embarrassment I was feeling, until I got to the infirmary.

While searching for the medication I asked myself why this whole situation was making me lose my cool so easily, but no answer came out of it.

I then went to the kitchen to grab some water for Law to take the antipyretics and came back to my captain's room.

I gave him the pills and water and waited for him to take them.

"Let me check on your temperature" I said, and he raised his arm for me to put the thermometer under his armpit. "I don't want to feel sick; I hate those pills you gave me", complaining and acting almost as if he was a little boy. I remember when we were younger. He rarely got sick after he cured himself from the amber lead disease, but whenever he felt bad, he acted as he was a kid. I always thought that was really cute and today it wasn't the exception. I teased him a little bit for being a capricious little child and he smiled, gave him shorts, because his temperature was getting lower. I asked him if he was hungry and he assented.

The whole crew was still having fun on the deck, so I went back to the kitchen and made Law some soup.

I brought the meal to the room that he devoured, despite feeling sick. We chatted a little bit until he fell asleep. "How angelic you seem sleeping and acting as a child, Law…" I whispered while contemplating his face that was slightly illuminated by the moonshine that enters from one of the little windows.

Suddenly, something on the floor caught my eyes. It was some sort of red cloth. Picking it up I realized it was Law’s most precious treasure, Cora-san’s hat, that he was holding when I found him on the floor. I put the hat next to his face and caressed his cheek softly, "Sleep tight, Law, Corasan and I will take care of you tonight”.

A few hours passed and the bustle of the crew slowly turned to silence as they went to bed.

Sitting on bed next to him I must have fallen asleep until I was woken up by some grunts. Law was still asleep, but he seemed uncomfortable, he was again starting to sweat, and a few tears were running through his cheeks. I placed my hand over his forehead and his skin was burning once more, not only was he having one of those nightmares he always has, but also his fever was getting serious again.

I went to the bathroom, got some towels wet and put them over his face and under his armpits.

I held his hand and softly said “everything is going to be ok, Law”. You see, when someone has nightmares related to PTSD it's better not to wake them up instantly. With Law it has always been better if I slowly do it, making sure I am there for him. He woke up, looking at me embarrassed but relieved I was there to tell him it was just a bad nightmare.

The night went by, with me frequently changing the wet towels for more cold ones and the fever slowly stopped. My best friend went back to sleep until the next morning.

The sunrise was invading timidly the room and the clock strikes 7 am. Time for Law to take the medicine again, I said and stand up from bed.

I headed to the kitchen to prepare some tea and bring a glass of water to my patient.

When I got there, I saw Penguin and Bepo looting the fridge. "Excuse me? What are you both doing?" I shouted, scaring the hell out of both of my nakamas. "Aya aya Y/n, you are gonna kill us!!". But after looking at me both of them changed their facial expression from scared to confused. "Y/n, are you wearing the Captain's clothes? “asked Penguin, scanning my whole image from head to toe. "They suit you, really". “Whatever you are trying to suggest, stop it right there, you little shit” I said frowning and continued, “Law is sick as hell, he had a fever all night long, I’m taking care of him. He is still sleeping, don't run to him, especially you, Bepo.” I sentenced the Bear that was about to run through the hallway to hug his captain.

“Law, oi Law, wake up, you have to take your meds”, I whisper to wake him up. Slowly he opened his eyes, letting myself admire the bold grey irises that were looking at me. He gave me a weak smile and sited on the bed, grabbed the glass of water and chugged it with the pill. “How are you doing? feeling better?”, I asked. “uhm, I am”. “Go back to sleep, then, you should rest”, I suggested - ordered - him. He nodded getting under the sheets again, covering his face with them. A little laugh slipped out of my mouth until he said “Y/n.. can you… stay here with me? If you don’t want to, it's ok.”. How cute he acts when he wants some care… “Of course, I’m staying here, I’ve been here the whole night, what makes you think I’m leaving you now?”. A silence invaded the room, until he broke it with “Thank you, do you mind getting in bed with me?”. We have slept in the same bed before when we were younger so at first it didn't surprise me, but then, something hit my insides. I didn't know why but It made me nervous. Nevertheless, I acted cool and agreed, "Ok, make some space".

Law moved and I got under the sheets. My body didn't know how to react, so I stayed laying down facing him until he buried his face onto my chest hugging me by my waist, really tight. I put one hand over his hair and place my other hand on his back caressing it softly up and down. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was crying as my t-shirt began to have wet spots where his face was. He then placed his ear onto my chest, as he was trying to feel the beating of my heart and said, "I needed to hear your heartbeat, I don't want to ever stop hearing it". There weren't words to be said, I knew what he meant, so I simply gave him a kiss on his head and hugged him even harder.

We both passed out at some point until a well-known voice woke me up saying "Daaaaaamn the captain and vice-captain are sleeping together!!!" Shachi was shouting and I realized I had the whole crew watching us from the door. The image they saw Included Law half naked, myself with my shirt up letting my back and stomach out, Law's hand over my waist and his head over my breasts, my leg over Law's legs. The perfect image to imagine every sexual situation.

"It is not what you all are thinking! Law is sick, shut up!" I told everybody as I stranded up from bed arranging my clothes. The whole crew was laughing and making a fuss of it. “Hey, get out, Law didn’t get so much sleep last night, shut the hell up!” ... As I finished my sentence, I regretted it instantly and everybody started to laugh. Suddenly everyone shut up. I saw their faces turned to happy to fully serious followed by the voice of my captain saying “Oi, all of you, prepare to submerge. Bepo, resume the course to our destination, tomorrow we have to arrive at the next island, I don’t know why you all are wasting time. And, remember this is the last time you disrespect your Vice Captain. Is that clear?”, “Yes, Captain. We are sorry. Excuse us Y/n”, said everybody in unison, and rushed to their positions.

I grabbed my face with both of my hands, I wanted to hide for a week. Law approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder saying, “don’t worry, they ‘ve always been like this, it’s ok”. I sighed hard and turned my face to him. He looked better than yesterday but still needed to rest. “Are you feeling better?” I asked him, and he nodded.

I told him to go get some more rest, that I was going to have a bath and get some rest too, and then come back to check on him, and left to my room.

Only Law and I have private rooms, so I was going to be safe from the looks of our nakamas as long as I didn't leave.

I open the faucet and let the water fill my bathtub. Undressed and left Law’s clothes aside for me to clean them after and return them to him. I realized I had left my wet clothes and underwear on Law’s bathroom, but I didn’t stress much about it, he wouldn't see them, because I left them in the laundry bin. I relaxed for a few minutes in the hot water until the image of Law’s body covered in tattoos, hit my thoughts.

Suddenly I discovered myself enjoying the fond memories of his anatomy. He had become such a grown-up man throughout all of these years, and I didn’t realize about it until last night. I wonder if he thinks the same way about me…? My mind sailed through the memoirs of yesterday, seeing his body covered in sweat, having him close under the shower, the feeling of his skin on my hands, his face over my breasts, him holding me from my waist, being in the same bed… every memory was making my body react and… I shook those thoughts out of my head. What the hell am I thinking? Law is my best friend; he is like family. Stop Y/n, stop right there.

After eating something I headed to Law’s bedroom and stood up in front of the closed door. I’ve never felt the need to rehearse what I was going to say to him, but this time, I did. I felt the need. To my surprise I heard from behind the door as If someone was breathing with trouble, little moans perhaps. So, I instantly thought that my best friend was again running a fever, perhaps having trouble breathing. I opened the door without even knocking, worried and expecting to found Law suffering. I tripped and fell on my knees and what I saw next, was something far from distress or sickness…

There he was, sitting on his bed, fully naked, holding my bra with his left hand, breathing heavily, arching his back and neck with his head thrown back. His right hand stroking his hard member up and down, violently.

I was still on my knees when he concluded someone had entered his room, and as fast as he could said “Room… Takt” and closed the door behind me with the simple movement of two fingers. “La… law… what… I mean, I’m sorry, I’m…” I barely mumbled still with my mouth open, unable to move, mortified for interrupting such a private practice. But at the same time unable to understand why the hell he had my bra on his hand while touching himself.

He looked at me, still naked, meeting our eyes, both without even moving. Until he expressed a little smile and stood up. Me still on my knees, I contemplated him and his glorious body reaching to where I was. He stopped in front of me, grabbed my chin up in between two fingers. “Wha.. what are you doing, Law?” I asked, even though I didn’t take my eyes off him. “Shh…” he said rubbing his thumb over my lips and softly opening my mouth…

“Puru puru puru puru” the Den Den mushi next to my bed woke me up from my dream exalted. “Oh… It was just a dream…” I said and picked up the snail transponder. “Y/n, dinner is ready, you haven’t eaten anything all day, come to the dining area!”, I heard my nakamas shout through the speaker.

I washed my face and looked into the mirror. My cheeks were red, my head was spinning, I was agitated, sweaty. I replayed the dream over and over, it felt so real… so… enticing.

When I got to the kitchen my nakamas were already drinking beer and shouting as always, Law was seated on his usual spot, and Bepo was passing plates. “Oi Vice Captain! have a drink!!” some of them shouted, while Bepo handed me a big bowl of my favorite meal, read bean soup. Shachi, who was seated next to me, bumped me with his elbow and said, “Oi, the dinner was chosen by the Captain specially ‘because he said it was your fave, fufufu… are you both sleeping together again tonight”? I turned my face to him with the most psychotic expression I’ve ever had… “I’m sorry”, he said and directed his gaze to his plate.

I looked at Law who smirked a little and kept eating without any talking. I gave him a little side smile and did the same. He had a better semblance than the night before, so I think his fever hasn't come back since last night.

We finished eating and discussed the plan for tomorrow. We were supposed to arrive at a new island in the morning, not for anything special but for us to buy food and supplies needed. Usually, the whole crew divides the work, so some of them buy food, the others stuff for the submarine, and normally Law and I take care of buying medical supplies.

Through all the conversation I was trying to avoid looking at Law as much as I could. Whenever our gaze locked, I remembered the dream over and over… I felt guilty, stupid. My cheeks burned every time I replayed it on my head.

After having the plan settled, I waved goodnight to everybody, and left the kitchen. I was almost running through the corridor to get to my room as if I was trying to hide when I remembered that my underwear and clothes were still in Law's bathroom.

“Ok, he is not here, this is my chance, I just have to recuperate them and run to my room”, I said while entering my best friend's bedroom.

I was scrutinizing the laundry bin in the bathroom, when I heard the door of the bedroom close. I stood still. "Damn, what should I do?" … so, I decided to use my devil fruit powers in order to avoid making any sound until I was able to figure out what I was going to do. I mean, I couldn't just get out of the bathroom like nothing happened, what would Law think?

As the bathroom door was not fully closed, I was able to peek through it and observe what Law was doing.

The captain took off his hat first, and then his shirt. He jumped on the bed and grabbed a book.

I was hoping for him to read some more and fell asleep, so in that moment I could get out from my now hiding spot.

Twenty minutes passed and he was still reading. Meanwhile I admired every movement he did. From brushing his hair back, to how he licked his finger to turn the pages. My core felt fancy, I couldn’t escape from watching, deep down I wished for him to even untied his pants. I wanted to see more…

Finally, he put the book down and turned off the lamp.

"YES! FINALLY!" I said getting excited for my big escape but suddenly he said, "I know you are in the bathroom; I don't need to hear you to sense you, you know?".

I froze, closed my eyes and remembered how strong his Observation haki got during the last months. I didn't say anything simply because I didn't know what to say.

" Room… Shambles!", and without any warning I was teletransported to his bed. My ass hit the mattress hard making myself lose stability falling with my whole face over his lower abs.

The scent of his skin invaded my nose for less than a few seconds, because I regained my posture as quickly as possible. "Law, how many times I have to tell you not to use shambles with me without any warning?!!" I scolded him. "Excuse me? You've been hiding in MY bathroom for almost half an hour and I'm the one who gets shouted at?" He said, frowning and staring into my eyes. “I was trying to recover my clothes, I wasn’t trying to hide…”, I confess, to which he responded this time laughing, “Don’t lie, I’m sure you are into voyeurism”. Widening my eyes, still seated on his bed, covering my mouth, my cheeks blushing, my heart beating faster, I was embarrassed, because deep down, after all it was what I was doing. I was enjoying the view from the bathroom, I wanted to see more, I wished I could witness an image as my dream…

“I’m kidding…”, he said ruffling my hair and smiling. God, I love his smile… I wasn’t still saying anything back when he came close to my face, and whispered into my ears, “unless… you like it…”

Chapter 2

#Trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #Trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x oc #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy #wano kuni #dressrosa #laugh tale #bepo one piece #shachi #penguin one piece

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

opposites attract

pairing: steve rogers x villain!reader

summary: based off of the lyrics:

“you and i are two oceans apart

we're on earth to break each others hearts

in two, and it's hard

with you, when i'm too far

from you, i look at the stars,

do you?”

from ‘ferrari’ by the neighbourhood

warnings: injuries, sparring, mention of blood and bruises, angst, fluff, and banter

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i am a simple woman. i think of a hurt/comfort concept and am morally obligated to write it. (this is a repost from the other day so if you saw it before, no you didn’t)

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, click here! as always, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Thick, cushioned, cream colored walls. You supposed this was an upgrade from your last room, with its harsh and reflective steel. Every time you made an appearance here, it seemed there was a new, yet futile, attempt to keep you contained.

As you studied the pillowy surface, you drummed your fingers on the wooden table that your hands were currently strapped down to, and secretly hoped for your captor to rear his head, even if he was peeking through the double-sided mirror to your left.

Your mind proved itself to be a powerful thing, as the door ahead of you opened, and none other than Captain America stepped in, looking valiant and proud as ever.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” you greeted.

“Flux,” he said in a matter of faculty tone, nodding his head at you before pulling the chair in front of you aside and sitting down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” you asked, as if you hadn’t been tussling with him in the streets less than an hour ago.

“Y’know, just our biweekly catch up,” he shrugged, playing along.

“Can I suggest coffee for our next meeting?”

Steve scoffed, but you almost swore that if you squinted, you could see him blush. “Enough of that,” he mumbled before opening a yellow folder and turning it to face you. “You ready to tell me about him?” Steve asked, pointing to a printed photo of Brock Rumlow.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Captain,” you responded, looking up and batting your lashes at the man. This routine was like clockwork for you two. Fight a little, get yourself caught after a moment of weakness, and end up in an interrogation room.

“Don’t play dumb with me Flux,” he warned in a snarl, wrapping his fingers against your wrist and making you yelp. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

“Ouch, Captain. You’re being rough today, even for you.”

“I’m always rough with you,” he insisted, raising a brow as he loosened his hold on you.

“You’re being rougher than usual, that’s what I just said,” you furrowed your own brows at him. “Something on your mind?

“You’re stalling,” Steve stated while squinting at you.

“I would never do something like that, Cap,” you closed your eyes and visualized the outside of the building. “Does it have anything to do with those accords?”

You opened an eye quick enough to catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking, “I didn’t mean to strike a chord. Oh my gosh, ‘a chord’, accord. I really didn’t even mean to do that.”

You opened your other eye to get a clear view of him glaring at you. “Okay, sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment,” you gave Steve a sly wink.

He stood up from the chair in a dramatic fashion, leaning down to get right in your face. “No. You won’t. Tell me everything you know about Rumlow.”

“Cap,” you pouted mockingly. “You’re not very good at this. Really makes a gal wonder why they keep sending you in to interrogate me, when you don’t seem to get much out of me.”

He grit his teeth while looking down at you, your eye contact both intense and passionate.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began, looking away at a plain wall in an attempt to focus a bit more on leaving, “I genuinely know nothing about him.”

Steve gave you a humorless look, and your eyes naturally flitted back to him, “really,” he said drily.

“Really,” you confirmed. “We don’t really work in that whole chemical warfare field. Especially with a guy like Rumlow? He’s bad news. Did you really think that all ‘villains’,” you made air quotations on the table. “Know the intimate details of each other’s lives and plans?”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed aloud as he moved back, seemingly convinced.

“I was serious when I said that I’m leaving, though. You and I both have better things to do. But please tell Wanda that she did a good job for me, okay? I mean, civilian deaths are never pretty, but I genuinely would miss having you around.”

“I hate how you talk so much, but literally say nothing,” he huffed.

“I’m not gonna take that personal, ‘cause I know you don’t really mean that,” you sighed softly and looked away to visualize the outside of the building. “Hopefully the next time I see you won’t be UN sanctioned. Farewell, Captain.”

With those words, you were gone.

——

For the next few days of your life, you hadn’t stopped receiving an earful at the Brooklyn base. Mainly from your teammates, who seemed to never let things go, and were the nastiest gossips you’d ever met. Currently, rumor had it that Cecelia, your boss, was preparing to have a strong word with you.

You cracked your knuckles anxiously as you followed a teammate, Amelia, down into the sparring facility, as an attempt to calm your mind before whatever bad news was broken to you.

You passively listened to the TV in the corner of the room while wrapping your knuckles in preparation of getting your ass beat, and listened to the rapid fire reports from hours earlier in the day, but mainly tuned into the fight between the Avengers at the Leipzig airport.

“Have you heard?” Amelia questioned, tying up her lengthy hair as she sauntered onto the mat.

“No, tell me more,” you followed suit on the mat, rising onto the ball of your foot to the heel of your foot in an alternating rhythmic bounce.

“I guess some of it is that UN thing, but it’s probably because of the Winter Soldier,” Amelia bounced similarly to you before charging forward and throwing a left hook at you.

“No way! I thought that guy just disappeared after that S.H.I.E.L.D shit,” you dodged the swing, and went to knee her. “I swear, I asked Steve about it once.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at you, and caught your knee, pushing you down to the ground in the process. “You’re obsessed with him.”

“I think it’s mutual. And you said you’d go easy on me,” you whined, grabbing her extended hand and pulling yourself back up.

“You’re delusional, and that’s why Cec is pissed with you. In fact, Cecelia was so mad, that she couldn’t even form the words to tell you. At least, that’s what she told Naomi.”

“Why, though? It’s not like I haven’t been caught by him a million times already.”

“That’s the problem, though. What happens when they decide to send someone else in to talk to you? And they start waterboarding you, or some shit? All the sudden the Avengers know everything about us?”

“Well that wouldn’t happen, because I would leave,” you shrugged after blocking a few punches.

“I hope you’re getting all your aloof-ness out now, because Cecelia is not gonna put up with this attitude.”

You huffed, and marched over to get a sip of water, dramatically squirting it in your mouth before heading back to the sparring mat.

“Just let me enjoy this while I can, okay? I know how to protect myself,” you swung your fist in an uppercut, and Amelia maneuvered herself out of the way.

“Well, I was just reading something before this. Apparently your boy is a fugitive of the law now. It almost looks like your time is already up,” Amelia commented, delivering a stiff jab to you at the same time that you crouched.

Hearing this news, you froze up, and the punch landed right on your nose, an unsatisfying crack reverberating in your ears.

“Y/N, you alright?” She asked, approaching you as you reached a hand up assess the damage, and pulled away an extremely bloody hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled letting her lead you off of the mats and to the connected bathroom, so you could get a better look at yourself.

You were dizzy with pain, and you pressed your hand to your nose, willing it to heal. Though not your most frequently used ability, it certainly assisted some of the pain. You squeezed your face in a cringe as your bone rearranged itself.

“Is he in jail?” you asked, watching her face screw up in the mirror.

“You’re not really- you are a lost cause,” Amelia scoffed.

“You could be a little nicer to the person whose nose you just broke.”

“You’re fixing your own nose! You’re fine, okay?” she exasperatedly brought her palm up to her forehead. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Be ready to talk to Cecelia as soon as you leave this room. A word of advice? Don’t mention your work husband unless she mentions it first, okay?”

Amelia set a hand on your back and pat it, “good luck with her. If you need a sofa to crash on after this, my place is always free.”

You shook your head at yourself as she left, your own personal healing already fixing most of the damage. As you hopped into your own shower stall, you couldn’t help but question just how bad this confrontation was truly going to be.

——

You walked into Cecelia’s office after receiving a text message from her assistant, inviting you to meet with her.

You were handed a disposable cup filled with piping hot coffee as you entered, and Cecelia beckoned you to sit down in front of her. You obliged, nervously rubbing your hands on your pants as you sat.

“Y/N,” she began in a sigh, “what has gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing, just-“ the older woman put an open hand out, prompting you to stop.

“No, Y/N. You’ve let Rogers become your biggest blind spot. You let him catch you off guard and capture you nearly every single time you go out on the field! I’m starting to think that you want him to catch you.”

“What if I do?” you shrugged, feigning indifference.

“It’s not a ‘what if’ anymore, dear,” Cecelia took a deep breath. “Especially after what happened in San Francisco.”

“I- Cec, you told me that you wouldn’t bring up California anymore!” you huffed and shook your head. “It’s not even like it’s a problem. They haven’t once received intel from me,” you added.

“Something tells me that you won’t be having the same interrogator for a while at least. We were gonna take you out of the field before this whole Avengers fiasco, but I think it’s time for you to just take a break as a whole.”

“So you’re firing me?” you huffed, “great.”

“No, you are taking a break. We can get you set up in the Prague safe house, and everything.”

You weakly threw up your hands and looked away from Cecelia, not even being able to bear looking at her for the moment. What a great day you were having.

——

You sulked the whole way up to your apartment, and reached in your jacket’s pocket with sluggish speed. It was as if you couldn’t catch a break today, which was all you seemed to be able to think about while grabbing your key.

You looked up at the door, and noticed something slightly off. The door was just the slightest bit ajar, as if it was deliberately cracked for you to see. Someone was inside. Waiting for you. You held in your groan as you came to this conclusion.

You really couldn’t catch a break.

Despite your better judgement, you devised a quick plan in your mind. You could probably protect yourself, right? You closed your eyes in a blink, and imagined your kitchen. The plasticky tiles on the floor, the dent in your countertop from dropping a mug, the wooden cupboards that you’d quickly fallen in love with. The next moment, you were standing in your kitchen, right next to your silverware.

As quiet as you could possibly manage to be, you slipped your sharpest and largest knife from its home in a wooden block, and defensively in front of you. Creeping out of the kitchen and into your hallway, you examined area by area for any sign of intrusion, pointing your knife with every turn.

After finding nothing and no one, at the end of the hallway you turned, walking back down and stopping in front of your living room after noticing a few dark stains on your carpet.

You took a deep breath before walking into the open space, the pit in your stomach growing at the thought of what it was that you were about to find.

With a few timid steps, you found a shirtless Steve Rogers, sat on your couch, head lolled back, eyes squeezed shut in pain as he released shallow breaths and attempted to apply pressure to a wound. With one look at him, you yelped and involuntarily found yourself back in the hallway outside of the room, your fear strong enough to force you into teleportation.

“Funny seeing you here,” Steve began, and you stalked back into the room, your steps slightly less fearful as you stepped over his discarded tactical gear.

“Steve?” You whispered, setting the knife on a random bookshelf before kneeling down on the floor next to him. You had a plethora of questions, but you couldn’t decide what was the most important. “I- Are… What happened?”

He shrugged weakly.

“Okay, well how badly are you hurt?” You questioned apprehensively.

“Pretty badly,” he responded.

You nodded slowly while you attempted to process the entire situation. You couldn’t tell if this was a scene from your wettest dream, or worst nightmare. “I’ll be right back,” you muttered, leaving the room to grab some water to help you speed up your healing process.

As you reentered your living room, you set down the bowl of water and squatted down next to Steve once again. Dipping your hands in the liquid, and placing them on an open head wound, you found it appropriate to question him.

“Steve,” you began, watching the forehead laceration quickly shrink into a small scar. “Why are you here?”

“I had nowhere else to go,” he put plainly.

“A hospital, maybe?” you added, pushing away the hand that was currently holding down a rather bloody wound on his upper arm, and exchanging it for your own.

“Something tells me that a hospital isn’t the best place for a guy of my legal status to be at right now,” he countered while you halted your attempt to reduce the size of the wound, cracking your stiff knuckles in preparation for the final push of closing the abrasion. “Besides, this isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this before. You remember S-“

“San Francisco. Right,” you cut Steve off, and brushed off the previous comment. “This is gonna hurt a little,” you warned. before setting your fingers down, and putting an obscene amount of pressure on the bicep wound.

Steve grit his teeth so hard that you swore you could hear it. His muscles clenched as you resumed your attempt to soothe the sore.

“Hey, look at me,” you used your free hand, and gently pushed his cheek so that he was looking at you. “If I distract you, it’ll hurt a lot less. Trust me.”

He seemed to agree with you, and took in a deep breath while the corner of his eye twitched.

“How did you even find my apartment?” you asked, using your pinky to tilt his chin up, and force his view away from the cut.

“It wasn’t that hard, I mean, we’ve been tracking you and that ‘financial firm’ you work in for years,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

“You sure it’s not because you like to keep a personal tab on me?”

“No! Why would I…?”

“Because if all the Avengers knew where me and my teammates reside, we’d all be locked up already.”

“Fine, maybe I pulled a few strings. It’s just because I think you’re the biggest threat to the general public.”

“Really? The woman with the least destructive powers of all of us, not the one with super strength? Or the one who could manipulate elements? Or even, I don’t know, the person leading us?” you chuckled a bit at the poor excuse.

Steve rolled his eyes fondly, but you could clearly see the soft flush on his face.

“It’s okay, Steve. We all have our favorite coworkers.”

“We aren’t coworkers, though.”

“It seems like you’re gonna need all the allies that you can come across. Don’t get picky with me now,” you tutted, finalizing your work on his peck, and leaving behind a small, pink scar.

You let out a breath of exhaustion as you pulled your hand away, and pointlessly shook out your wrists.

“You alright?” Steve questioned, adjusting himself a bit on the sofa and grunting at the rather simple task.

“Fine. What else needs attention?”

He gestured to the light bruising on his ribs that only seemed to be getting darker by the moment.

“We should take a break first, though. You seem tired.”

“I told you that I’m perfectly fine,” you countered, setting one hand on your chest, and pointing a lazy finger at Steve, “you’re the one that needs a break.”

Steve grabbed your finger and gently pushed it down, “I don’t really, but maybe we should take a break.” He gave you a kind smile, and your heart fluttered. Even bartered and bloody, Steve managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Well, any great Captain America plans to get yourself out of this mess?” you leaned against the sofa, and twisted your torso slightly so that you could get a good look at your visitor.

“Nope, not yet,” Steve pursed his lips slightly. “Any input from the lady who seems to get out of every rock and hard place she finds herself in?”

You snickered, and shook your head at this, “not at the moment. But you have me on speed dial, right? I can get back to you when I think of something,” you joked with a wink.

“I would laugh, but I’m honestly a little nervous that my lung might pop if I do.”

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you scooted away from him so you could be closer to the bowl of water once again. “Why did we take a break? You need urgent medical attention.”

“You needed a moment.”

You shook your head and frowned, catching the inside of your bottom lip between your teeth, “don’t do that again.”

You dunked both of your hands in the water, then turned back around and set your damp hands on the bruising on Steve’s ribs, closing your eyes in concentration as you addressed the damage.

Steve howled out in pain, making you flinch as a result. With the hand doing less work, you blindly pat around in a search for something to shove into his mouth and dampen the noises he was currently making. Eventually settling on a blanket, you shoved the fabric deep into his mouth.

“Sorry,” you uttered while the muted noise of his pain rang through your ears, “neighbors.”

The task wasn’t the easiest for you either, healing what seemed like such a large break or fracture following several other injuries was depleting your energy quickly. Your arms and hands trembled as you began to watch the splotchy yellow mark begin to blend into the rest of Steve’s skin, and you were becoming more and more light headed by the second.

Feeling somewhat satisfied with your work, you pulled your shaky hands away, and leaned away from Steve’s body before losing your balance, and falling back onto your plush floor.

Steve yanked the blanket from his mouth, sticking out his tongue for a second as he attempted to pull a spare string from his mouth. He sat up rapidly, and looked down at you with raised brows, and big, frightened eyes.

“Y/N?” he asked breathily, still exhausted from his own exertion, “you still with me?”

Your chest rose and fell slowly, and you were silent for a moment before responding, “I just need a minute.”

Steve relaxed back into the sofa with the knowledge that you were at least still conscious, and waited a few beats before he spoke again, “thanks,” was all that he managed to utter.

The two of you sat there in an extremely loud silence, the only other noise being your nearly synchronized panting.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you announced after what felt like hours on your floor. You slowly rose, and dragged yourself to the bathroom in your bedroom. Hitting the shower valve, then sitting atop your countertop you let the suite fill with steam, reflecting on your bizarre day, but most of all, your interaction with Steve.

You let yourself dwell on this while you stood in the shower, forehead pressed against the warm tile as you considered the implications of every word shared between the two of you, and how you’d let this tiny crush get so far ahead of you. Maybe it really was a good idea to take some time away from New York. You were so deep in your own thoughts that you failed to catch onto the sound of the floorboard that loudly creaked in your living room, or the soft click of your front door opening and closing.

Changing into some more comfortable clothing, you exited the bathroom, and ultimately your own room ready to offer up your shower to Steve, and possibly even talk about your feelings in a serious manner with him. Yet, by the time you arrived at the couch that had held him just a half hour ago, it was vacant. In fact, your whole apartment was vacant. You’d checked three whole times.

Ending your fruitless search on your balcony, you settled down into the single plastic beach chair that you kept outdoors, and draped the blanket from your sofa that had previously been in Steve’s mouth around your shoulders. The chill of the night air contributed to the sting of your eyes when they welled up, and you told yourself that it was silly to ever think that this, you and him, could ever happen in the first place.

Gazing up at the stars, you cursed yourself for being so naive. For letting yourself fall so fast, and so hard for someone you knew so out of reach. The stars seemed to mock you, in all of their billions of years of knowledge.

Yet, part of you was comforted by the knowledge that Steve could be viewing the same constellations as you.

----

a/n: listen. i feel like these idiots have a lot of potential so if you want me to write any more of them i am totally down!

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #captain america x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

When/if you'd like, the sweetly, charming first kiss with Leo please. 119. “Just one moment…” - “What are you doing?” - “Well, I suppose I’m going to kiss you. I hope that’s alright.” Sending hugs and oodles of good vibes your way, sugar!

Feeling soft so why not have some blue boy being soft. I’ve quickly grown to love Leo a lot, not like I didn’t before, but boy is he in my head more often.

Rated Fluff

Life had a funny way of putting things into perspective. So often you could spend hours running around the same thought wondering if either choice was the best. The human brain could really be a douchebag to put it lightly, but the current thought right now was different. Well mostly your thoughts were of a certain blue banded leader.

Leonardo sighed, he took pride in the fact that he never allowed his brain to become so clouded. The warmth of the water falling on him from the shower head did little to ease his thoughts. There was so much running through his mind, things he never quite thought he would have to sit and think about. He would’ve turned to his father for some general advice but this felt a little to intimate for him to voice.

For you though, you were sure of yourself but that didn’t leave a grand opening for cold feet and jumping to every clinical situation where it simply doesn’t work out.

You wanted this to workout with Leo.

And while he mulled over his worries, you calmly came to the conclusion that life was simply to short to bury ones self in so much self doubt.

Leonardo couldn’t find sleep no matter how much he tossed and turned. His mind drifted to so many scenarios involving you, possibilities of all sort with you at the center.

But if there was one thing that ate at him, consumed his nights and thoughts in such a way it made him dizzy, it was your perfect lips. Leo is more well mannered than his brothers, it’s not to say they aren’t around a woman, but he would rather swallow his fantasies and comments than allow even his body language to betray him.

And gosh were those fantasies always gnawing at him in the comfort of his own sanctuary.

Those fantasies begin to take shape for the one hundredth time when his phone starts ringing.

Your name flashing on the screen makes him grab it immediately.

Patrol had been short today, no leads on the current hunt for some drug dealers. They had returned fairly early and turned in, save for Leo.

“Is everything okay?” Leo was concerned, you usually were a sleep by now and all his mind could jump were to terrible scenarios.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, Lee” Your voice sounded a little shakey, perhaps something had startled you awake?

“Could you meet me? I’m at that rooftop with the green house, you know the one” Why on earth were you there he couldn’t help but wonder.

Leo knew exactly where to head, he’d spent many a time there with you. Talking about life and it’s intricate webs, you spoke often about what you wanted your life to head towards. Leo envisioned a future where you were by his side but he knew to think up such impossible things would only come back to sting him.

He found you there on the small bench in front of the green house. A jacket to cover your cold bones and a far off gaze. Once you spotted him your mouth twitched up to a smile. “Come sit” You patted the spot next to you, Leo obliged and studied you.

“What are you doing here?” He wanted so badly to pull you close and shield you from the cold wind, you seemed to have had the same principle. Opting to scoosh closer to him and wrap your arms around his muscular one. He felt her cold cheek against his scales, the scent of her hair surrounding him and lulling him.

“I had a nightmare, where you disappeared without word or reason...” Your throat felt constricted at the mere notion of not having him here in all his physical glory. Leo dared to rest his lips a top your head and how he greedily wanted to inhale you and keep you within his bones. “I’m here, I wouldn’t do that... can’t do that to you” Your eyes fluttered close, the vibration of his voice running through you, bouncing against your rib cage.

“Why haven’t you asked me to kiss you?” Your hand slid to hold his and Leo felt something inside of him run cold and hot all at the same time.

“I... Y/N,” He felt so bashful, a part of him wished he could look passed the obvious but even within his own confidence it was difficult. “I don’t care what you are, you’re just Leo to me” You searched out his gaze, those blue eyes of yours a hue you found in your everyday life, every blue case back to Leo.

It was always Leo.

“You know there’s no normalcy here, can you truly look passed that?” Unwilling you disentangled yourself from him and cupped his face as he spoke his words.

“Just one moment” You spoke softly, thumbs running across his bottom lip.

“What are you doing?” He felt too hot now, just too hot.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, gently bringing him closer to your lips.

“Well I suppose I’m going to kiss you. I hope that’s alright” You ghosted those words across his lips and in that very moment Leo could careless about impracticality and possible heartbreak. Once he felt your lips against his he was ready to have you drag his heart through broken glass if it meant he could have this feeling over and over. The softness of your lips against his, a sweet taste engulfed him.

He kissed you for what felt like hours.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #leo tmnt #leonardo tmnt #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #Leonardo #Leo #ask #tmnt southern gothic #requested oneshot #writing prompt #fluff

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Power Over Me - 4.

Bucky Barnes x Reader AU

Previous Parts

Run-through: CEO James Buchanan Barnes is a dominant. And he’s spent the last 5 years searching for his perfect submissive. Then one night, he finds you. He thinks everything will fall perfectly into place now; but he thought wrong. Turns out your unfortunate past which still haunts you to this day, and some of his enemies are, well, connected. Things go wrong. And your bond with your dom is tested in many ways…

Themes throughout the series: dom/sub dynamic, smut, dirty talk, angst, fluff, soft dom!bucky

a/n: this one’s a little long… just a little.

You were a quick learner, Bucky noted.

You were quick in learning his ways, his rules. Mainly because you loved everything about him, and everything which surrounded him. But also, you wanted so desperately to leave the past behind and forget it. And fill your head with much, much better memories. Memories you made with Bucky.

Throughout your first weeks of living together, you and Bucky had quite a few serious talks, and open and honest discussions in his study. You took decisions regarding your relationship together, it was much healthier than anything you’ve had in the past.

You two made a few alterations here and there, regarding his rules. Such as, you genuinely like making meals, so you settled on him being absolutely okay with you cooking at least once a day. He honestly didn’t mind, he just never wanted you to feel like you had to do anything for him.

To which you responded, “I never feel like I have to do it. I truly just want to, think of it as my way of giving back to you for treating me with respect and care, and affection. And for being a shoulder I can lean on, and a friend when I need you to be, and everything else you do for me.” You hoped he could read in between the lines.

Because to you, he was so much more than you put in words. Bucky smiled and approached you, cupping your face in his hands without thinking twice. He stared into your eyes. A deep, long, meaningful stare. Do you have any idea what you do to me? He almost blurred the lines and bend his own rules as he had felt the burning need to lean in and kiss you.

But then he realized that you two were in his study. This area was strictly used for mature, and serious conversation. And he would like to respect that. So he pulled away that day, gently, reluctantly.

Bucky would usually wake up and find you either in your bed, or in the kitchen already – on days when you felt like making breakfast.

One morning he found you in the kitchen, all dressed up, not in your PJs surprisingly. He found you making food and walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you. And as he kissed your neck, like he did almost every morning, he found that you weren’t wearing your collar.

Oh?

He pulled away quickly. You felt his hesitation so you turned back around and gave him a proper good morning kiss. You could feel his confusion.

“Remember I said I applied for a job at the publishing company?” you tried to freshen up his memory. Bucky nodded, remembering. “Well, they called yesterday evening to tell me that they accepted my application. And I start today.” You said and waited for his reaction.

His face lit up. “That’s great, baby! See I told you there was nothing to be nervous about.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” he let his lips linger on your face while his arms wrapped around you. “But why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” he sounded pouty again.

You sighed, looking up at him. “Well, you were stressed out and tired from work, and then we…” you trailed off remembering how last night went…

How as soon as Bucky walked in through the door, he lazily made his way into your arms and gave you a bone-crushing hug and almost shifted all his weight on you. How with just one kiss, you knew what he mean. Playroom, now.

You remembered how he had taken his time and tied you to the bed again, and how you laid spread eagle all for him to use however he liked. You thought about how he kissed every inch of your body, and how he turned you into a moaning mess just with his kisses. How he had teased you with the fur flogger again, then with the suede one until you cried out in pleasure. Pleasure which blended in so perfectly with the sweet pain.

You remembered how he sat on the dark red couch like it were his throne and how you sat on the floor, on your knees, pleasuring him like you had the night you first met. You remembered his grunts and growls and how he moaned, “Fuck… slow down baby, let me feel you.” he said, with his head thrown back, hands in your hair as he forced your mouth to a stop, lips wrapped around him, his pre cum trickling down your throat…

And how he had taken you hard and relentlessly afterwards; fucking you mercilessly and stretching you out, ramming his cock in and out of you all while calling you his “precious little pearl.” How he had wrapped his hand around your throat gently, kissed your forehead and growled in your ear, “You’re all fucking mine. You hear me?”

And how gentle and loving he had been afterwards, giving you back rubs and massaging your feet and shoulders and telling you how much of a good girl you’ve been to him. And how he tucked you in and played with your hair until you fell asleep.

Bucky’s voice broke you out of your reverie.

He chuckled. “Ah yes, you mean when we didn’t get the chance to talk about each other’s day because I was busy making you scream in my playroom?” he teased. His words made you look down and smile shyly. Your face felt hot all of a sudden. He laughed, “Look at me, angel.”

You looked up and met his ocean blue eyes. The ones you longed to see at the end of the day, the ones which calmed you down, the ones which connected with you in ways no other could.

Bucky spoke up, grabbing your chin between his fingers. “Tell me things. Even when I’m tired, or stressed out or grumpy, I want to talk to you and hear about your day. I want you to share every little thing with me, it makes me happy. Okay, baby?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you.” he repeated. And it made you feel all warm and tingly inside.

You thought initially that once you began working, it would somehow affect the amount of time or the relationship you had with Bucky. But that wasn’t the case at all. Bucky made a sort of a plan; each day, he dropped you off to your work building on his way to his office. And he’d pick you up on his way back home.

Once home, the first thing you did was put your collar on and then went about the rest of the evening, with Bucky’s interruption here and there – he’d catch you in the shower sometimes, or in the kitchen because most days you liked to make dinner, which then resulted in him calling you sweet nicknames and fucking you against the wall, followed by you two having to have to either eat cold dinner or order food because the food either, got cold or burnt while you were busy.

When you began your job at the publishing company, which you loved, other little alterations were made in the set of rules Bucky had. Bucky pushed breakfast on weekends to 10 a.m. because he wanted you to sleep in and get as much rest as possible after a week’s work.

And it was his favorite thing because each Saturday and Sunday he’d sneak into your room early in the morning and spend some hours just cuddling, and spooning you and touching and fondling for some hours before breakfast time – which you two usually made together.

However one Sunday morning, he walked into your room to a pleasant surprise. He tiptoed into your room, feeling all excited and warm looking forward to cuddling you and give you a thousand kisses. But the sight in front of him made all his blood rush downwards.

You were on your bed, eyes closed, covers thrown off your body, with your hand in between your legs. Your underwear was off, your shirt bunched you at your chest, freeing your breasts. Soft moans escaped your lips as one finger of yours slipped inside your entrance. Bucky noticed you were dripping.

He believed you must have just woken up because you seemed unaware of his presence. Must be still a little sleepy and hazy. But you sure were horny, because you caught Bucky by surprise and his jaw dropped in awe as you slipped another finger past your entrance. Then followed by another. You moaned and arched your back off the bed as you fingered yourself shamelessly right in front of Bucky.

He was torn between being extremely displeased by your borderline disobedience and wanting to just drag you into his playroom like he did just the previous night, and being extremely turned on by the wanton sight in front of him and wanting to punish you in the best way possible in your own bed. Only you, babygirl, can put me in such a delicious dilemma.

Bucky chose to observe for a little while longer, because frankly it was hard to look away. You whined in need and frustration as the palm of your hand rubbed against your sensitive clit over and over again while your fingers slipped in and out of you. Your fingers stretched you out but in no way quite like Bucky did.

And oh did you crave him, his touch… especially after the dream you just woke up from.

You moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was him who was touching you instead. “Fuck… sir, please…” you mumbled in the haze that you were in, completely unaware that Bucky was at the side of your bed, watching you intently. You whined, slipping your fingers in and out of your wet hole rapidly. Your own touch took you higher…and higher… and you were on the edge; right on the edge when you heard a voice speak up.

“So this is how it is, huh?” his velvety, deep morning voice said.

Oh no…

Your eyes flew open, burning still with sleep. You gasped as soon as you saw Bucky standing beside your bed, staring down at you with a smirk. Looking at you like you were a meal. You tried to rapidly remove your hand away from your wet folds but Bucky was quick to stop you. He knelt in your bed, loomed above your semi-naked frame, smirking and holding your hand in place. “Answer me.” He asked, now serious all of a sudden.

You didn’t miss the look of mischief and playfulness in his eyes as he quickly glanced down at your neck and saw that you were wearing his collar. It looked no different than an expensive diamond choker in the dim morning light. He loved the sight of it on your body.

Mine. His inner voice screamed.

“I… I’m sorry, sir.” You gave him your best puppy dog look and spoke sheepishly. You were embarrassed, but there was also the thrill of him catching you in such a salacious action which coursed through your veins like electricity. The look in his eyes made you shiver.

He didn’t say a word as he brought your hand closer to his mouth. He didn’t hesitate in parting his lips and allowing your soaked fingers into his mouth. His warm, wet tongue swirled and licked around your slick coated fingers, and you almost moaned as he did when he so shamelessly tasted you.

He closed his eyes briefly, relishing the taste of you as you watched him with your own lips parted. Breathless already, and all he was doing was sucking your drenched fingers. “Hmm,” he moaned as he pulled your fingers out of his mouth, releasing them with a pop sound.

He looked down at your almost bare body. He didn’t think twice before cupping your dripping core. “Who owns this pretty little cunt, huh?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. His voice sounded stern, but his words were laced with nothing but lust and hunger.

You didn’t answer. So he pulled hand back and shamelessly slapped your throbbing core. You yelped, in surprise, pain and pleasure.

“I asked you something. Who owns it?” he asked again, clenching his teeth and growling by the end of his question. Was this the same man who washed your hair and called you ‘baby’ in the bath? You were borderline surprised and borderline turned on.

“You do.” you answered in a whisper.

He smirked again. “Then how dare you touch yourself without my permission?” he asked, his velvety voice, his words sending a pleasant chill down your spine. Which then did nothing for the growing sweet pain in your lower regions.

You got quiet again, and lowered your eyes to where he cupped you again.

“Look at me,” he ordered. “You are mine. All of you belongs to me, alright? You leave me no choice but to add another rule to your list, baby. From now on, you are not allowed to touch yourself, unless I ask you to.”

He spoke, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down on the bed, above your head as he straddled your waist. His weight pressing on you gently was much more pleasurable than you expected it would be. “Understood?” he asked.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He continued. “I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, or fucking four in the morning. You come to me whenever you need something.” He gave you a stare which meant, keep your hands there, and you understood it perfectly.

He slid down your body just a little to free your legs from under him. He spread your legs further apart and settled in between them. He looked you dead in the eyes as his knuckles lazily stroked up and down your slit.

“Touching yourself without my permission.” He lifted his hand away and smack down right on your clit. You gasped loudly, not expecting it. “Pleasuring yourself while I’m not in the room.” Smack. You whined, squirming and wanting nothing more than to just grab his hair and place his mouth on your body. “Misbehaving in secrecy.” Another slap right on your throbbing clit. You couldn’t help but moan out loud. “Thinking I wouldn’t find out, huh?”

“Sir… I’m sorry.” You whined, closing your eyes and throwing your head back; unable to handle his intense gaze.

He chuckled. “Sorry? Oh baby, you will be.” You could hear the smirk and the mischief in his voice. He wasn’t necessarily pissed off, he was just glad that he found an excuse to toy with your body however he pleased so early in the morning. “You wanted to cum so badly, didn’t you?” he said, sounding pouty and bummed out for a moment, clearly mocking you.

Then he chuckled, rather sinisterly. “Well, you’re going to do just that.” he smacked your thigh to get your attention again. You opened your eyes quickly and found him staring down at you. You were still a little confused about what his words meant. He caught the confusion and shame and embarrassment in your eyes. Oh my babygirl… he almost gave in, but then caught himself before he slipped.

No, disobedience are to be followed by consequences. He spoke, “I’m going to make you cum hard, and incessantly until you are totally and utterly spent. You will be a whimpering, tear stained mess by the time I’m done with you. You hear me?”

You nodded, your heart racing in excitement. “Yes, sir.”

He was quick to add. “We’re not in the playroom, but your safe words still apply.” He reminded you. “Now, what color?” he asked.

“Green, sir.”

He smirked. Because oh boy were you in for a ride…

He left your thighs chafed thanks to his stubble, your body trembling and your mind a foggy mess that morning. He meant each and every word he uttered to you. You were indeed crying out in pleasure as he ate you out like there’s no tomorrow. He didn’t hold back, he never did. He was incessant, relentless. His tongue just slipping in and out of your folds, teasing your entrance. His mouth sucking and lapping up all that you gave him. He never stopped, no matter how hard you came.

“What color?” he asked about ten times. And your answer was just the same as the last, “Green, sir.” He’d smirk each time and go down on you again. You were sore, and you tried to scoot away from him a couple of times as the pleasure and the sensitivity got too much. But he wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you closer to his mouth each time.

“I’m not done with you, yet.” He’d growl. “Now stay still, and this will teach you not to touch yourself without my permission again. Understood?” he’d seek to confirm again.

“Yes, sir.” You trembled in pleasure under him. Fuck…

Once he was satisfied with how much of a wanton mess he had turned you into, he finally pulled away to look down at your whimpering frame. The entire lower half of his face was drenched with your arousal, and he didn’t mind it one bit. He cupped you again, letting his fingers presses against your sensitive clit. You whined and bit your lip.

He spoke up again. “Tell me again, who owns this cunt?” he asked, in his no nonsense voice. Oh his words alone were enough to make you cum again, that’s how sensitive you were.

“You do, sir.” You whined.

He smiled, satisfied. “What color, baby?” he asked again.

“Green… please.” Your body was spent, but you still asked for more. He had a lazy smile on his face as he got rid of his sweatpants before climbing up your body again.

He pushed into you without another word. You were just how he expected, warm and wet and whining in need for him. You knew you wouldn’t last very long as his thick cock filled you to the brim. You were a moaning mess by the time he found a pleasurable pace at which he moved in and out of you with ease. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad shoulders and you clawed at his skin as he fucked you; hard and fast.

He moaned and swore and groaned as he pounded into you, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine.” he mumbled against your neck, kissing the collar you had on in a haze. You threw your head back and moaned, tears escaping your closed eye lids at the pleasure became more and more overwhelming.

He nibbled on your neck, biting down hard the moment he felt himself getting closer and closer to his release. “Cum with me, baby. Come on…” he trailed off, moaning and pounding harder into you.

You came with a loud moan, he did too. He swore right in your ear as he came, filling you up. You could feel the soreness immediately, but you didn’t complain one bit. Once he got his breathing under control, he kissed your face a hundred times and wiped your tears away.

He turned to his side and pulled you into him, eventually pulling the covers over the both of your naked bodies. You were still trembling and teary. He kissed your forehead,

“I know, I know my sweet angel.” He kissed your lips. But you were too weak to respond to his kiss. You were, however, happily, a mess. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now. You did so well.” He wrapped his arms around you.

You snuggled up further into his side, moaning under your breath as you moved. “I’m sorry, sir.” You mumbled. He smiled, stroking your hair and down your back.

“I know, baby. I had to remind you that you belong to me and only me. You know now, don’t you?” he asked, kissing your forehead as you basked in his body heat.

You nodded, wrapping your own arm around his torso. His lips didn’t leave your skin as he calmed you down from the headspace you were in just minutes ago. Once you were finally down, he leaned in and gave you a deep, long, meaningful kiss.

“By the way, good morning, baby.” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss briefly. Your face got hot really fast again. Good morning indeed.

You didn’t respond, you just whined playfully and hid your face into his chest. He laughed and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to give a couple more kisses.

Well, that morning had given him the answer. Guess after just over a month of meeting you and living with you, he was sure that the feelings he had been nurturing for you were here to stay. And they were very much real.

I am, undeniably, falling for you baby. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.

As time went on, things between you and Bucky only got better and better.

He was understanding. And he had this ability of switching really flawlessly and really quickly into whatever you needed him to be. On days when you’d wear your collar, he’d be the most perfect dom one can ask for. While you were at work, even when not wearing his collar, he was the most caring man ever. Always calling, and texting and being persistent in taking you out for lunch each day.

You noticed him behaving differently at home than out in public. He was much more protective over you in front of other people.

Then at home, he was much more affectionate. Even clingy at times, but you never minded. You needed him as much as he needed you. You didn’t even realized the exact moment when you were finally able to leave the past back in the past. Memories of Thor did upset you, but they no longer tormented you like they used to.

That was major progress.

Bucky noticed changes too. How you were much more playful and lively with him. How you trusted him with everything, how he didn’t have to constantly coax you into trusting him anymore. You did so naturally, like it were a habit. You were a tad more open now, and he loved it. Bucky liked seeing that you knew you were safe and cared for with him. And he loved the mischievous side of you.

Especially when you pretended like the roles were reversed.

You and Bucky were spending one lazy Saturday afternoon in your bedroom. Limbs sprawled and tangled with one another in your bed. You were catching up on some reading while Bucky was on the phone, having a lengthy, stressful discussions with one of his assistants about how an employee messed something up pretty bad.

Eventually he got off the phone and vented to you about it.

“Unbelievable these fucking idiots! They keep fucking up and think that apologizing makes it better. It fucking doesn’t. They have no idea how much fucking money their god damn mistakes costs me, do they? Fucking assholes! I swear to God, one of these days I will fucking-,”

You cut him off, and caught him by surprise. You faked the shocked expression on your face, acting like you were livid.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” you chided. “That was six swear words in one breath! You just earned yourself at least six spanks on the butt. Turn around.” You used some of his usual words to you, mimicking his tone.

Bucky chuckled, amused. “Baby, come on, I-,”

You cut him off again. “What’s that? You’re arguing? Fine, two spanks more. Now turn around.” You faked a stern voice. He laughed and sighed, giving in.

“Fine.” He sounded giggly.

He turned around and chuckled again as you straddled his legs and leaned down to kiss the back of his neck – like he always did to you. “Good boy. Now I want you to count for me.” You whispered in his ear, like he always did to you.

He nodded. You playfully smacked his clothed butt. “Use your words.”

He chuckled. “Yes, miss.”

You smirked. “Good boy.” You kissed the shell of his ear, and he felt a chill go down his spine. Oh this is unfamiliar. But so, so good.

You lowered his sweatpants and smacked his butt cheek through his underwear. And he fought back his laughter to count along with each spank. He tried so hard to play along and not laugh, but as soon as you spanked him one last time, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He chuckled as you kissed your way up from his lower back to his neck again. “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you. No more swearing like that, you hear me?” you mimicked his ‘dom voice’ again, smirking and loving having him under you for a change.

“Yes miss. I won’t do it again, I promise.” He played along a while longer.

You giggled. “Good boy.”

And once you slid off him. He flipped the two of you around yet again, pinning you down on the bed under him again. “Had your fun, babygirl?” he asked, in that voice which could make you wet in one instant. You concluded you could never get used to it. His voice would always affect you the same way; make you weak in the knees with just a few words.

You smiled up at him. Another he loved now was that you could look him in the eyes without being shy and looking away every few seconds. He loved all the intimate moments when you two would just stare into each other’s eyes and communicate without having to speak at all. Like right now.

You giggled, circling your arms around his neck, urging him to lean in closer. “Oh very. You have a really nice butt.” You said, truthfully.

“Yeah?” Bucky was trying really hard not to laugh again. “Time to show you who’s really in control now, huh?” he began slipping his hand down your shorts but just then, the oven’s timer went off from the kitchen downstairs.

And Bucky gave you the funniest disappointed look ever, which sent you into another laughing fit.

“Oh well, would you look at that timing?” you jumped out of bed. “My pies are all done, come on.” You grabbed his hand and tugged him along as you made your way downstairs to the kitchen.

Your pies were great, Bucky made sure you were careful when pulling the tray out and he was the first one to try it. And he hummed in appreciation, telling you you’re a great baker.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting me bake.” You took another bite. “You’re so much better than my previous master. He would never-,” you stopped talking the moment Bucky looked up from his plate with a stern look on his face.

Oh shit. Realization hit you brutally as you realized what you had just said. It was one of his rules – that you were to never mention Thor again, or call him ‘master’. Besides, it was straight up rude to compare Bucky to that man, Bucky didn’t deserve that.

You swallowed audibly as you waited for Bucky to speak up.

“Y/N?” he always called out to grab your full attention. You swallowed again, clearing your throat as you set your fork down.

“Yes, sir?”

“Playroom. Now.” he ordered. And you didn’t waste any time. You politely left the room, went upstairs and walked into the playroom. You got rid of your clothes and folded them nicely and placed them on the couch and waited by the bed.

Bucky walked in a few minutes after you. You were never scared usually. Even today you weren’t, but you were upset by the look of disappointment on his face. Oh crap. What had you done? Mr. Barnes was always nothing short of kind, and caring and loving towards you. But you just made him think that even now, you think about that brute all the time.

Or worse, now he thought that you always compared him to Thor even when you didn’t.

Bucky kept his head down as he walked into the room. He wasn’t like this normally, he’d keep his head held high and walk in with power and authority dripping from his gait. But today, he was upset. And disappointed truly.

Was he not enough? Did you really always compare him to that excuse of a dom? Did Thor occupy your thoughts this much even now? After all this time? He thought.

Still, Bucky pushed aside all his emotions and decided to handle this situation like any other slip up from your part. His job was to correct your behavior and make sure you don’t repeat the same mistakes twice.

He cleared his throat once he approached you by the bed.

“You know why you’re here, Y/N?” he asked, his voice and demeanor a stark contrast to what it had been just minutes ago back in the kitchen and your bedroom before that.

You looked down at your feet. “Yes, sir.” You responded. I’m sorry, I know you’re disappointed in me. I didn’t mean it.

“Why?” as usual, he asked to make sure you know that he wasn’t being unfair, or using you for his own pleasure. You two were here for you, because of you.

You swallowed, trying to clear your throat. “Because I broke a promise I made to you, sir. I brought up Thor when I shouldn’t have. I was supposed to leave him in that past. And I didn’t.” You spoke, feeling even worse now that you worded it out loud.

“Right, Y/N. I want you on the bed.” he approached you, you kept your eyes on the dark wooden floor. “I won’t gag you today. I will blindfold you however.” He spoke, his voice void of any emotion. This was the least affectionate he had been in the past weeks. “You will not cum without my permission. I will try to push your limits moderately.” His voice made the hairs behind your neck rise up. Not in fear. In anything but.

He took a step back. “You may use your safe words whenever you feel the need to.” Then he added something which tugged at your heartstrings even if it shouldn’t. “And remember, use ‘winter’ to terminate everything.”

His voice was strict, and deep and clear. His was displeased, clearly. But that hurt. Winter…

No. No I don’t want this to end. I want you, please.

“I said, do you understand me, Y/N?” he asked, letting you know that he was having to repeat himself because you hadn’t been paying attention the first time.

You tensed up just a little. “Yes, sir.”

Something shifted in that playroom. You could tell Bucky was hurt. He didn’t talk as much, but he made sure to constantly ask you which color you were at. But other than that, nothing. He did let you know about his next actions and what he was about to do each time, given you were blindfolded. But other than that, nothing. He did give you the occasional ‘good girl’ but he sounded… hurt.

It got to a point where you zoned out, focusing on the hurt in his voice rather than your punishment.

He had you blindfolded. Tied to the bed, arms and legs tied to each bed post. He teased you with the fur flogger first, as usual – caring enough to ease you into it despite it being your punishment. Then the suede, he made you count till ten. Then he used the leather flogger, you concluded that it hurt slightly more than the rest.

He put down the flogger and you felt the bed dip on one side. Then you felt him close to you. “What color, Y/N?”

“Green, sir.” You responded.

He hummed under his breath. “I need you to relax your body for me. Don’t worry, trust me. I won’t hurt you.” he reassured you as you heard him shuffling around.

I know you won’t hurt me, but I did.

You waited for what was to come. You felt him move closer to your lower regions. Bucky kissed your hip bone. Once. Twice. You awaited the touch of his lips a third time, but instead you felt the wet, cold tip of something press against your puckered hole. You gasped and moaned the moment you felt it being pushed further into you; stretching you out pleasurably. You figured it was a plug, lathered in lube.

You moaned the moment you felt Bucky kiss your lower belly again. “Don’t freak out, Y/N.” he paused, the plug halfway in. “What color?”

Oh please… “Green.” You almost screamed it out. More. More please.

He pressed the plug further in you; the excess of the lube dripped down your skin, making you tremble and gasp at how cold it was and how good it felt. “Come on, take it all in like a good girl.” he urged you to keep still and let him push it in completely. You moaned when you felt the plug filling you up entirely.

Once it was snug inside you, Bucky got off the bed and stood beside it and watched you squirming. You’re breaking my heart, baby…

He reached for the riding crop, and gently smacked you on your thigh; making you yelp in surprise. You were not new to riding crops, but you were new to experiencing the riding crop and a plug at the same time.

“What color, Y/N?” he asked, then you noticed the change in his voice. He went from hurt, to teasing you again.

Oh…

Fuck… “Green, sir please.” You moaned as he smacked you right on your dripping, throbbing core. You gasped again, feeling hot all over as the tingles eventually faded into pleasure.

You heard him chuckle, then you felt a gentle smack, right on your clit. Oh… more please. You whimpered and whined; feeling your arousal flowing out of you incessantly.

“What’s one of the first things I told you, Y/N? Regarding that excuse of a man?” he was freshening up your memory. Smack. Smack. The riding crop came down rapidly twice on the same spot, on your inner thigh. You moaned.

You calmed your racing heart. “Never to talk about him, and leave him in the past because he was cruel and undeserving of me and my submission.” You answered, thankfully coherently.

“Hmm.” Another smack right on your wet folds. You whined, throwing your head back, tugging on the ropes which held you down and in place in the middle of the large bed. “And what did you do?” he asked again.

Oh fuck… “I… I spoke of him. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have called him ‘master’, or compared you to him, in no way. Good or bad. Ever. I should’ve forgotten about him.” You replied, unsure if you made any sense.

He stopped, dropped the riding crop down and climbed into bed with you. He didn’t untie you, he simply undid the blindfold. And threw that carelessly away as well. You looked up to find him looking down into your eyes. Unmoving.

Oh how you missed looking into his ocean blue eyes…

“You’re not here because you compared me to him. Or simply because you called him ‘master’.” He clarified, his tone stern. “You’re here because you’re mine.” he said, much more gentle this time. He held your chin softly. “You’re mine. I’m your dom, I give you everything. But you still think of him.” Oh… he was hurt.

“I don’t think of h-,” you earned yourself a slap right in between your legs, which only made you moan louder.

“No arguing.” He chided you, less angrily than you expected. “You seem to be unable to forget than man, is that the case?” he asked, in that voice which could bring you to your knees any time, any place.

What? No.

“No, sir. That’s not the case, I promise.” You pleaded. He was so close, but he wasn’t touching you where you needed him the most.

He scoffed. “Promise…” he spoke like he was testing the word on his tongue, and didn’t like it. “You made a promise once, a while ago, to never think about or mention that man. But you broke your promise, didn’t you?” he lazily trailed his finger up and down your wet slit. “You think our promises don’t mean shit to me?” he asked, calm and collected but you could tell he was upset.

This was the first time he used a bad word when addressing to you, in and outside the playroom. Oh Bucky… I’m sorry.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You couldn’t help but apologize. You meant it.

“Are you?” for a moment, you saw the hurt in his eyes. Then it was quickly replaced with an emotion you couldn’t name. “Let’s see if you mean it.”

He lowered his pants, and settled right in between your parted, tied up legs. He gave the plug a gentle push, making sure it’s still snug inside you. His brief touch sent electricity throughout your body.

“What color?”

“Green.”

He wasted no time. His hand reached down and he pumped his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process. You squirmed and moaned when he did so; the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your wet lips, parting them as he circled your clit gently.

You shuddered under him; whining in need. Your body begging him to just take you already and make you his own. Please…please…please. You couldn’t even move, so you had to just stay there and endure his sweet torture.

Bucky pushed into you and sped up immediately. You were dripping so you welcomed him without any hesitation. He moved, rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again.

“Look at me,” he said, breathily. You did. “Tell me who’s fucking you this good, huh?” he waited for a reply.

You swallowed, whining. “You are, sir.”

He leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth. “You’re mine. Do you hear me?” he spat in your mouth, earning a wanton moan out of you.

You didn’t respond as all you could focus on was the feeling of him and the plug deep inside you. Having not responded, you earned yourself a gentle smack on the cheek. “Answer me, Y/N?” he growled, keeping his hand around your throat.

“Yes, sir. I’m yours.” You managed to whisper back to him while he was balls deep in you.

He leaned into to give you a messy kiss again, pounding into you so deep that you got teary again. Not just because of the overwhelming pleasure, and the feeling of being stretched out so thoroughly. But because of all the emotions as well. Guilt, shame, love and affection for him… it was all too much.

“Sir… please.” You begged, not sure what for. Please fuck me harder? Please forgive me I didn’t mean to hurt you? Please believe me, no man makes me feel like you do and I care deeply for you?

He chuckled, slowing down just when you began whining louder. No…

“No, no. Bad girls who don’t abide by the rules and who break promises don’t get to cum so easily.” He was fighting his own need to just take you hard and fast and not stop until you both cum hard. But he had mastered control, so he slowed down easily to torture you more.

He didn’t pull out of you. He just stayed completely still. You whined and squirmed and moaned and begged. Oh you begged like you had never before. The plug, his cock, the emotions – it was a lot to handle all at once. You needed a release. You needed it badly.

Please…please…please… I’ll be good, I promise.

“Who owns you?” he asked again, wanting to make you say it despite knowing that your mind was a foggy mess.

“You do, sir.” You whimpered, your body hot and throbbing. Needy.

He chuckled again, kissing down your neck and nibbling around your breasts. He hummed, biting down on your skin, hard. He left behind a mark.

“And who fucks you so good that you almost lose your mind every time, huh?” he moved again, catching you by surprise by how deep he thrust in you.

“You do, sir…” You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you out and pounding into you like his life depended on it. You didn’t realize when he had removed the plug. But fuck, even the void felt good.

You tugged on the ropes, moaning wantonly, knowing you couldn’t but desperately wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him close as he took you higher… higher…

“You’re all fucking mine, and no one else’s. You hear me?” he growled. “Mine.”

I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you. You didn’t know if you just said it mentally or verbally apologized as well.

You felt a pressure forming around your lower region, Bucky quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around his playroom. You cried out in pleasure as your orgasm washed over you violently, without a warming.

Your walls clenching around his cock triggered his own orgasm. His thrust got deeper and lost their rhythm as he came right after you.

Your brain was foggy from then on. You remember bits and pieces. You remember him untying you rapidly. You remember letting go and letting him hold you. Cradling you in his arms like you were a baby. Baby…

“You’re okay, baby. You’re with me, now. I’m here.” He kissed your forehead. Or was it your lips. Did he say ‘I love you’?

Did you say you loved him back?

Then you remember coming out of that headspace and realizing you were in the bathtub with him. Weird. This bathroom was different.

“We’re in my bathroom, baby.” he answered your question before you even asked. He took you to his bedroom after playtime?

You tried speaking but your body just felt sore. So you gave up and snuggled to the source of warmth closest to you – which was Bucky’s chest. Your head was tucked under his chin and you clung to him like a baby koala to a tree.

He ran a hand down your back, soothing you. While his other arm held you securely against his chest, your torso pressed to his. It took you a little while to reorient yourself. His loving words helped.

“You’re with me baby, don’t you worry about a thing. You’re okay, we’re okay. I’ve got you.” he repeated over and over again.

Once you recovered. Your eyes watered, just thinking back at what you did. It was unfair, to Bucky. Here he was, taking care of you and making your life better in every way. And there you were, back in the kitchen, casually comparing him to Thor like Bucky was nothing special.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, sniffling and trying your hardest to hold back your tears. You noticed something different when you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. Where’s your collar?

You pulled away from under his chin, looking at him in confusion and fear. Did he… take it back? He smiled at you and all your worries vanished.

“Don’t worry, angel. It’s right outside in my bedroom. You can wear it later.” He circled his arms around you. “Are you hurting?” he asked, leaning in for a brief kiss.

You blinked and two hot tears fell down your cheeks. He was quick to wipe them away. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and despite being surrounded in warm water, his body heat was your favorite warmth.

“I’m sorry.” You held back a sob.

He sighed, smiling again. “Hey, it’s over. You have nothing to apologize for, my little pearl.” He cooed, and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

He wasn’t taking you seriously, thinking you hadn’t stepped out of that headspace just yet. So you reached up and grabbed his face, pressing your lips to his. You kissed him deeply. He was surprised, but he kissed you back quickly. You pulled away gently after a few seconds.

“You’re not listening to me.” You said, in all seriousness. This wasn’t sub you talking to her dom, this was you talking to Bucky – the man who had taken over your entire heart.

He caught the seriousness in your voice. “Hey babe…” he was worried for a second. Had he overstepped a line? “I’m listening, go on.” He sat up straighter, with you still in his lap.

Babe…

“I’m sorry.” You finally looked up at him. His ocean blue eyes were soft, and he had a faint smile on his face. “You didn’t deserve that. What I said in the kitchen earlier, I shouldn’t have.”

He opened his mouth to oppose but you spoke up before he could. “It was wrong to even compare you to that animal. I did it so casually, without thinking. You don’t compare me to your past subs, you never even talk about them. And I never understood why.” you paused. “I do now.”

He looked at you, silently asking ‘why?’

You cupped his face in your hands. “Because be it good or bad, people from our past have no room here between us. They’re in the past for a reason. Now I’m here, with you. And that’s all that matters. My past doms, your past subs, they don’t belong here in our present anymore. They shouldn’t be.”

You kept going. “It’s not about, comparing you to him. It’s about him in general. Thor is my past, and from here on now, that’s where he’ll remain. He has no room here.” You were tearing up again. “You mean so much to me. I need you to know that. I know I don’t say it often, but you should know that. You’re the only one I want, and need.”

I love you. I’m sure of it now. I love you. You wanted to add, but didn’t.

Bucky’s lips parted. This was probably the most intimate, heartfelt thing anyone had ever told him. It took him a moment to process it all.

“Oh baby…” he pulled you in for a hug. You laid your head on his shoulder and cried. “Shh, hey calm down angel. I’ve got you. I’m so happy you finally got what I meant by that. I probably should’ve worded it a little better to begin with.” he calmed you down. “Baby, look at me.”

You pulled away and looked at him. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned in for a sweet kiss. And pulled away a few seconds later.

“You never asked me about that before?” he sounded much relieved that earlier. And he was.

“About what?” you questioned.

He took a breath. “About my past subs.”

Well, since you were pouring your hearts out today… “Is there anything you wish to tell me?” you asked, genuinely thinking you were ready for whatever he was about to tell you.

He smiled. Not his usual charming smile, but a sad one. “I wish to tell you why she left.”

Huh? You couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to spend the rest of their lives with Bucky. Your silence gave him a green light to continue.

“Her limits and mine weren’t compatible. We, weren’t compatible. Her tastes were… intense. And I couldn’t give her enough. Because certain things she preferred made me uncomfortable. And I was hesitant to even experiment.”

He paused. He was letting you see a side of him no one’s ever seen before. His vulnerable side. And he didn’t even know why he chose right here right now to pour his heart out. He looked up again, and stared into your eyes.

He continued. “So one day, she up and left. Telling me I was not good enough, and never will be.” You felt a weight on your chest at his words. “Telling me I wasn’t ‘dominant’ enough. And I was, and I quote, too soft and too cowardly to be a dom.” He paused. “End quote.” He smiled. That same, sad smile.

Oh…

He continued. “I sort of gave up after she left, thinking she might have been right. I was alone for years, I was incomplete. I didn’t want to change how I was either, because…” he trailed off, searching for the right thing to say. “Because that’s not me.” He sounded so vulnerable and he was aware. But he felt the need to tell you, there was no need to hide anything from you.

But then he looked into your eyes again, and his face lit up. “But then I found you.” He didn’t have to say anything else after that. You understood.

You leaned in for a hug. “Well,” you sniffled as you hugged him tightly. “She’s just mean. You’re perfect. More than perfect. You’re good to me. You’re caring, and loving and kind, and polite.” You pulled away and saw a genuine smile on his face. “You’re the best dom ever. And if it makes you feel any better, your voice alone makes me want to drop to my knees and serve you however you’d like.”

He chuckled. Then laughed and pulled you in for a kiss. “That makes me feel loads better.” He mumbled playfully against your mouth. You giggled and kissed him again.

You two stayed in the bath until the water got cold. He helped you in stepping out of it, dried you with a towel, and wrapped you in a warm, fluffy robe.

“Stay with me tonight.” He said, once you stepped out of the bathroom and inside his bedroom.

“You mean, sleep in your bed?” you asked, just to confirm.

This was new. He nodded. “Please, baby?”

You smiled. “Sure.”

You got in bed together, naked under the covers. You talked for a while longer, and laughed at each other’s terrible jokes. You talked about your work, and co-workers you don’t particularly like or find rude. And he talked about his work, and how he hates certain clients and stuck up business partners.

The conversation flowed effortlessly.

He held you against him, spooning you; he knew you were tired after playtime so he kissed and cuddled you until you fell asleep. He didn’t drift off to sleep right away though. He was up, thinking…

At some point he looked down and gave you a kiss on your forehead. Then he saw it, you had left your collar on the bedside table. Right now, in his arms, wasn’t just his sub. It was you.

Fuck. He realized. He was in love.

Everything was going smoothly. Your relationship with Bucky was healthy, and satisfying to both of you. You had gotten comfortable with wearing his collar out, not for work but other places, and it filled him with pride and adoration when he saw you wearing it proudly out in public.

Things were great between you two. You learnt more and more about him. And him, you. There was never a time when you felt disrespected, or any less than an absolute priority to Bucky. Not even in his playroom, when he was controlling your very being and using your submission to please both of you.

You even caught yourself smiling at the thought of your very caring, very affectionate dominant throughout the day at work. And your heart constantly reminded you that you were falling for him, uncontrollably. How could you not? He was everything one can look for in a partner.

You could see your relationship with Bucky taking a beautiful, beautiful turn. He could see it too, even though neither of you commented on it. He just waited for the day he could finally tell you how he feels. And that day wasn’t too far.

After that day, after that talk in his bathtub, things changed. For the better. You hadn’t confessed to each other yet, but you two sure acted like lovers – not just dom and sub.

Things were great.

But, there was one problem.

Bucky had been safeguarding a secret since the day you first met. Since the day he brought you and welcomed you warmly into his home and his life. And one way or another, that secret would be out someday, he dreaded it – knowing it would break both you and him. Potentially breaking you apart for good.

And he didn’t know it would all happen so quickly. He didn’t know that one day, much sooner than he expected, the secret would be out so brutally that neither of you expected it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan

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