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endlessthxxghts · 8 months

Text

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned) if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you.

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee.

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it.

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now.

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket.

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you.

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up.

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?”

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you.

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you.

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.”

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.”

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day.

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?”

“Mhm, please.”

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone.

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you?

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door.

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first:

“Safe words. Repeat em’.”

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.”

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.”

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two.

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?”

Silence.

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out.

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.”

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman.

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors.

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal.

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it.

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet.

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod.

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away.

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible.

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach.

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit.

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to.

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible.

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him.

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient.

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.”

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only.

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here.

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength.

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him.

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out.

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb.

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down.

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down.

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek.

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala.

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs.

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat.

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place.

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan.

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you.

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit.

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy.

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves.

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee?

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt.

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?”

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator.

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on.

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing.

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you.

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms.

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices.

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do.

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his.

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?”

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance.

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way.

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard.

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear.

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans.

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here.

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you.

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.”

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging.

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you.

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more.

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you.

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release.

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets.

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort.

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you.

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-”

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe.

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-”

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss.

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.”

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high.

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need.

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly.

“Darlin’...”

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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pedrostylez · 7 months

Text

Something Else - pt. 8

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: Frankie and Benny confront Santiago and Will, and the leadup to the mission

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 6.4k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, ptsd, mention of drugs, smut, p in v, honestly pretty tame, tears, drinking, bars/club

A/N: Aaaaannnnddd we’re back! After rude anons and a mini break while I tried to remind myself that this is just for fun, I’m back with part 8. A huge and massive shout out to Hemmy, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for not just cheering me on, and beta reading, but also helping me dissect my own brain to make sure my worries about how I write these characters were put to rest. Imagine the conspiracy theory gif? That was her with spreadsheets. Thank you so much for helping me and being just what I needed. There is 1 more drabble and 1 more part and then that is the end of Something Else! How spooky and scary! There is no timeline for posting at the moment, but just a heads up!

Anyways, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. There is this lovely little arrow at the top left when you start reading that if you don’t like it anymore, you can click on it to stop reading. However, I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

Frankie’s anxiety is at an all time high going back to the hangar to tell Santiago that he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t settle, even though he wasn’t the only one-that Benny didn’t want to go again. To be retraumatized again.

His anxiety was put to rest when he stepped into the garage, boots echoing on the concrete to Santiago and Will sitting at the folding table in the corner. A sudden calm over his nerves when he saw Pope’s face. “Fish!” Will exclaimed shortly, nodding at him to come over.

Frankie approached the table and sat down across from the two of them, sighing heavily before clearing his throat. Pope looked like he wasn’t doing well; like he had lost sleep with the bags under his eyes. “I’m not going.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Santiago starts to apologize. “Frankie, I didn’t mean to put you–”

“Stop,” Frankie holds his hand up, taking a deep breath. “I’m not ready to go now, but…in a year? I could…I could be ready by then.”

“Should we really be planning that far in advance?” Will asks, tilting his head toward Pope. Still relying on who he thought should be the leader.

The door to the garage already opened again, Benny standing off to the side as he listened in. He shook his head in mild disgust, addressing Will. “If we plan now we can avoid what happened last time.” Benny calls, hanging up his hat on the coat rack. “Because clearly it wasn’t planned well last time.”

Will shakes his head with a scoff. “Hey woah–”

“No, let me talk.” Benny stands at the table, tapping his fingers incessantly against the chair. “Frankie and I have changed.” His hand rests gently on Frankie’s shoulder, squeezing to try and tell him that he’s got this. “We aren’t the same loyal dogs you brought last time Pope, and we can’t just go into this without some planning.”

Santiago nods, swallowing roughly. “I had a plan last time, it just…” He blinks, unable to finish his sentence.

“It didn’t go well.” Benny nods, filling in the blanks. “Listen, I get it. You want all of us to be taken care of.”

“I want to make up for last time.” Santiago says quietly, flicking his eyes between Frankie and Benny.

“Is the best way to do that by going back?” Frankie asks just as quietly, eyeing Pope. “How much of this is actually thought through?”

It’s silent for longer than before, as Pope swallows hesitantly. “I just…thought-”

“You can’t be in charge of this.” Benny states. “You’re too emotional, wanting to fix whatever happened. But we need to be logical, take the bull by the horns and think rationally. And you–” He points to Will. “You were just going to go along with this?”

Will shakes his head, pointing at Santiago. “What? No I thought he had a plan–”

“But you didn’t confirm it? Before calling Frankie incessantly and sending him almost over the edge and back to his dealer?” Benny exclaims, causing a silence to fall among the group.

“You’re using again?” Santi asks breathlessly.

“No! Stop.” Frankie turns to Benny. “I am fine. But we need to do what Benny says and handle this rationally. If we want to do this, then we need to be methodical.” Frankie stands his ground, looking between Will and Pope as they look at each other.

Will finally nods, leaning back in his chair. “You’re right.” He crosses his arms and debates for a moment. “One year from today.”

Frankie and Benny nod, in unison. “One year.”

1 Month Later

“Are you coming with us tonight?” You asked hushed into the phone. Anna is still in the bathroom, and you’ve snuck around the corner to her bedroom where you could speak to Frankie quietly. “I miss you.”

Frankie’s chuckle is dark through the phone, delicious against your ear. “I miss you too, hermosa.” A heavy sigh and some shuffling. “You said it was girls night weeks ago, I can’t crash it now.”

“You know Santi might!” You exclaim quietly, giggling when you hear Frankie’s huff.

“No, he’s going to be here in maybe five minutes. We are going to review logistics.” You swear you can hear Frankie smile after the pause he takes to inhale. “What are you wearing?”

“Don’t start.” You say seriously, looking down at your clothes. You resist the urge to cringe at yourself, trying to step into this new found confidence that you’re trying to convince yourself you have. Anna had wanted you to have fun tonight, dress however you felt and she would be the one to watch over you. A change in the routine-something that you’ve noticed she’s been working on. Her ability to apologize and to turn things around had shocked you at first, but it was different-it was better. “You might die if you see it. Would be better if you didn’t come out, actually…”

“Well now I’ve got to know, baby.” Frankie muses, humming when you deny again. “Should I convince Pope that we need to go out?”

As you’re about to answer, Anna steps into her bedroom with a pointed look. “We agreed on girls only! No boys!”

You laugh at the same time that Frankie does, telling him you’ll see him later before hanging up and putting your phone into your purse. “Alright! It’s gone.”

“Good.” Anna laughs, brushing out her hair one more time in the mirror. Her jeans are riding low on her hips, crop top showing off her belly button as she turns to you. “How’s my outfit?” She asks quietly, almost timidly.

“Very belly forward.” You joke, looking down at what you borrowed from Anna’s closet again. You hear her giggle and sigh as you mess with the dress painted on your body, blue and sparkling, strapless with fake sleeves, a cut out just below your chest. This is out of your comfort zone.

You feel slightly self conscious, adjusting until Anna’s hands stop yours. “You look amazing honey. If Frankie doesn’t have a heart attack when you get home later, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You smile, looking into her eyes for a moment before sighing. “Alright, I’ll trust you about this dress. It feels like it’s going to fall down.”

Anna giggles, picking up her phone when it vibrates and sighing. When you give her a questioning look, she shrugs. “Santi has been…strange, recently.”

You frown, following her to the door as she slips on her shoes. “Do you want to talk about it before we leave?”

She hesitates, debating in her head. “He’s just, really insecure right now after Frankie and Benny told him they weren’t ready to help him in South America.” She gives a rueful smile. “I don’t mean to bring up Frankie-”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head, yanking on her arm to bring her to the couch. Anna had updated you on what she had been told from Santiago a few weeks ago, and was flustered when you had told her all the information that Frankie had spilled so early on. While she knew a lot of it, there was some that she hadn’t-such as how their friend died. Anna was on this streak to be blunt with everyone around her, so she had confronted Santiago. “What’s he saying?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “I think I’m being impatient with him. He’s not…saying anything.” She furrows her brow in concentration. “I asked him how much money was on the line a couple weeks ago. He kinda just froze. Said he would take care of me. But I told him that wasn’t what I was asking and–” She hiccups, holding back tears. “Now it’s like he doesn’t hear anything I say. Just stares off into the distance, saying he shouldn’t be the leader of the group. I asked for details about Redfly and he just tells me that I wouldn’t understand the hell he has been through. What is that supposed to mean?”

You take a deep breath with her, nodding. “Give it time, Annie. From what Frankie said it seems like Santiago always has it together, and now he’s trying to…get his footing again.”

Anna nods, agreeing with you. “Yeah, I’m just being too impatient.”

You go to tell her that’s not the case, that she’s really just trying to navigate a situation with a man that doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but she stands suddenly and plasters on a smile. “Come on, let's have fun. Sprite for me, rum and coke for you.”

You’re shit faced.

It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve actually had more than a couple drinks, which frankly has always been plenty, but tonight you’ve indulged much more. It reminds you of the first night you met Frankie, when you indulged and had to spend the night at his place, and you can’t help the smile that appears on your face, dancing with Anna in the center of the room.

You never dance.

“You look fucking hot!” Anna yells in your ear, giving you a thumbs up before twirling and giving an excited squeal. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes!” You yell back, laughing at how ridiculous you’re both being, yelling to each other in the middle of a dance floor that very few people are attending around you.

As it gets more packed, you squish closer to Anna, keeping a protective hand over her shoulder, her opposite hand on yours. You’re a wall together, only having fun with and for each other. The bass of one song begins to hurt your ears, wincing when the beat drops. You go to tell Anna, hoping that you both can step away from where the speakers are focused, when you feel a large hand slide on to your waist.

Anna’s eyebrows come together in concern, looking around your shoulder to see who has their hand on you. She relaxes almost instantly, smile appearing. “Hey!” She yells, removing her hand from your shoulder. “I knew you would show up anyways!”

“Pope is by the bar, buying you a drink.” A familiar voice booms next to you, and you immediately know it is Frankie. You turn around in his embrace, watching the smirk on his face creep up into a smile when he looks down at you. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, Fishy.” You slur, giggling when his eyebrows shoot up at your nickname for him. You hadn’t called him Fish, even after learning of the nickname.

“How many drinks have you had?” He asks, leaning into your ear to speak more softly. He brings one hand up to your cheek, lightly stroking at your jaw with his thumb as if he knows the music is too loud for you.

You bite your cheek, swaying in his arms before holding up your hand. “Plenty!” You yell, slapping your hand on to your jaw over his fingers. “The music is too loud.”

Frankie nods, pulling you with him over to the bar. You’re smiling at him, eyes unable to move away from his face until he sits you down on a barstool with a quick kiss on the cheek. He looks over to where Anna is leaning against the counter before raising his eyebrows subtly at you. Her arms crossed and annoyed next to Santiago. “Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, man.” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who downs a shot. She looks over at you, softening her gaze.

“Are you all set?” She asks, looking only at you.

You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” You hold your hand out for her, snatching it and letting her pull you along to the bathroom as Frankie watches you. He winks, making you giggle happily before stepping into the low lit room. “Are you okay? You want to come home with me instead of Santi?” You slur out.

“No, it’s okay.” She sighs, laughing as you step into a stall and stumble to sit. “He and I need to talk anyway.”

You hum, sitting quietly before blurting out. “I feel hot in this dress, I get why you have so many now.”

You hear Anna laugh through the stall door, your coordination slow and clumsy as you stand. “It’s all about how you feel in the dress, honey.” You open the door, looking at her and smiling. “And, sometimes, it’s the alcohol too.”

When you say your goodbyes to Anna, hugging her tightly and waiting for her to get into Santiago’s truck, you’re whisked away by a smiling Frankie. “You’re very funny.” He muses, helping you into the passenger seat of his own vehicle.

“What did I do?” You question, pushing crunchy hair out of your face unsuccessfully. The hairspray you and Anna had thought you needed suddenly feels too heavy on your head.

“Fishy? Really?” He laughs, shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver’s seat. “Where did that come from?”

You shrug, tilting your head to look out the window as he pulls away from the curb. “It’s just the rum.”

He hums again, placing his hand on your knee and driving with just one hand. His thumb traces circles into your skin, causing you to break out in goosebumps that he smiles at. “That’s a very pretty dress, hermosa.”

You smile, looking at him and attempting to bat your eyelashes. You think you’re probably unsuccessful. “It’s sparkly.” You whisper. The sober part of your brain wants to hit you, as that was not what you intended to say.

He chuckles, giving your knee a squeeze. “Very sparkly. Lots of skin too.” He husks out, pulling into a parking spot in front of your apartment. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He helps you out of his truck, sliding your key out of your fingers to help you into the apartment. You sink into your couch, leaning back and eyeing him as he slips off his boots at the door, and his hat on your coat stand. “How was your meeting with Santi?”

“Good.” He confirms, standing straight and walking over to you. “Need help with your shoes?” He smirks when he kneels down and you gasp, nodding happily with a blush painting your cheeks. God, him on his knees– “No funny business tonight.”

You give a small pout as his fingers clasp the strap, wiggling it through the buckle and sliding it off your arched foot. You sigh happily when he sets it down on the carpet, moving to the other foot. “Got some things planned out for this trip, and we’ll make some adjustments as needed. Need to get a bank ready too, even though it seems too soon.”

“Anna and Santiago are having issues.” You hiccup, watching as he looks up your legs before to your face. “She says he just stares off into the distance.”

He nods, patting the side of your leg. “He’s upset. Thinks he’s going to let us down.” Frankie admits, wincing when you frown. “Do you need help putting on pajamas? Or can I make us some food and you won’t fall asleep on the bed?”

You clock that he has changed the subject, but can’t help it when you say. “You don’t want to help me? Take off this dress?” You wiggle your shoulders as tantalizingly as you can, making him laugh.

“As tempting as that is hermosa, you get too handsy when you’re tipsy.” He laughs, helping you to stand and petting the hair in your face to be behind your ear. “Go get changed, I’ll make you something.”

You watch him go to the kitchen, pouting for a moment longer before flouncing into the bedroom and finding comfortable pants and a shirt of Frankie’s he had left recently. You could get used to this.

6 months later

Frankie finishes the sentence on the page in front of him, glancing his eyes up to your face. He sees the way you’re biting your lip, anxiously tapping your foot against the carpet. “Querida–”

“You can tell me it’s bad.” You spit out, running a shaking hand through your hair. “I have to read this to the class, and if it’s not good then you need to tell me. I have to rewrite it.” The clock is ticking as far as you’re concerned, and Frankie is acutely aware of it. He has tried to coax you away from the assignment, over and over to no avail. You’re dead set on finishing it.

“No.” Frankie says firmly, smiling at you as he holds the page close to his chest. “It’s beautiful. Really, really good.” He means it, to his core. Just as he had with all your other work, but something about this one was different.

Your face softens, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck at the tone of his voice. “You’re just saying that?” You question, holding out your hand for the piece of paper.

He shakes his head, refusing to give it up. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” He says quietly, looking down at your words again.

Your poetry was what he would describe as easy. Smooth reading, vivid in painting a picture, without large and confusing words for dummies like him. He could feel your voice, hear you in his head as he read it silently. Ever since you had taken the courage to start school again in creative writing, he could see the improvements. He could see the passion as you sat next to him most nights, his couch or yours, scribbling away until you were satisfied, leaning against him to fall asleep after the words had consumed your every thought. Between your class and him being at the hangar more, he had opted to start driving you to work just to spend more time with you.

You cleared your throat, shaking your hand at him to give back your work. He stood, taking a couple steps over to you and setting the paper on your desk. Leaning in, his lips pressed softly to your forehead. “I want to see your name on a book.” He whispered quietly.

You gasped, eyes wide as you pulled away from him. “I’m nowhere near close to something like that!”

“Eventually.” He shrugs, resting his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place. “Your cute little smile on the back cover.” He smirks, squeezing the tension out of your muscles. “You’re talented, baby. You’ll write poetry for a generation. Do you hear me?”

You try to brush him off, but he’s not having any of it. He refuses to let you speak negatively about your writing as he leans over you and presses kisses to your face, over and over until you are giggling in delight. He laughs with you, pressing a final kiss to the underside of your jaw and holding his breath as he feels you relax against him. “I hear you.” You sigh, eyeing him sleepily.

“Good.” He husks, pulling you away from your desk and on to your bed, where his hands find purchase at your thighs. You hum as he maneuvers you to be cuddled against him, legs wrapped around his body and his arms around your shoulders. His hand trails up and down your back slowly, soothing himself as your breathing gets heavier with each passing of his fingers. “Relax with me.”

It isn’t long before you nod off with the setting sun, exhausted from self-induced stress and worry of the assignment you took on. Frankie feels you slack against him, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you dream, warm in his embrace. He feels peaceful, after months with you supporting him and him returning it for you.

Frankie shuts his eyes at the thought of how close he was to caving into his addiction when Santiago first suggested going back. How you, unknowingly, had kept him grounded enough to seek the help he needed.

“You can’t rely on just one or two people, Francisco.” You said quietly, eyes flicking to Benny who was sitting in the corner of his couch. He nodded along with your words. “It’s your decision on what to do, and I’m so thankful you’ve been honest, but I need your help in finding what works best for you.”

“Do you want to do AA or therapy?” Benny gruffed out bluntly, wincing when you shot him a look in warning.

Frankie laughed quietly, shaking his head from the doorway. It wasn’t the ambush he thought he would get, but it was the appropriate one. “The AA meetings around here aren’t great. So, which therapist is it then?”

He feels lucky to have you.

You adjust in his hold, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply. The humid breath against his skin makes him smile, his hands twitching to tighten around you. He thinks he’s in love with you, whispering it into existing as you continue to sleep soundly in his arms.

1 year later

You’re nervously pacing around your kitchen, phone stuck to your ear as Anna tries to soothe you. “They’ll be alright honey. This is why they waited the whole year, right?” Anna confirms, but you hear the sound of her biting at her nails. She’s nervous too.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me talking about this?” You cringe, bringing your shoulders up to your ears as you hear the tell tale huff of her trying to control her emotions. She’s been sad-it’s been months since the girls night out where her and Santiago broke up, but Anna continues to be the sounding board for your nerves about Frankie going to South America.

“Yes, of course it’s okay that you talk to me about this.” You hear running water through the line. “I still…care about him. You already know how I feel about Santiago. He needs to do this before he’s normal again and Frankie is your boyfriend, you’re allowed to be concerned about him. This is…not a typical thing to have to deal with.” Anna amends, the water stopping and a dull thump. “These dishes have to be soaked anyway.”

“I knew you were doing dishes.” You say triumphantly, stopping in your tracks and looking to your own sink. You had avoided doing dishes for a couple days, and now you thought they were piling too high. Maybe you should do some too…

“Focus, honey.” Anna giggles, taking a deep breath. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Well…they could die. And we won’t know.” You immediately blurt, tears threatening to bubble over at the mention of it.

Anna hums thoughtfully, carefully answering. “Frankie won’t keep you wondering.”

You nod, forgetting she can’t see you. “I know.”

“It’s alright to be scared.” She whispers through the phone, and you swear you hear her sniffle. “You love him, don’t you?”

“We haven’t…” You stutter at the thought, a soft knock on the door before Frankie’s head peeks around the corner of your entryway. He smiles, silently stepping in and sliding off his boots. “He’s just gotten here.”

“I’ll text you.” She sighs. “Keep me updated tomorrow? Love you.”

“Of course, love you.” With a quick click, you slide your phone into your back pocket and turn to Frankie, whose hands are in his pockets as he observes you. “What?”

He shrugs, smirking. “You look wound tight, querida.”

You scoff, walking toward the couch and sitting heavily. “Well, one of us should be.” You mumble, pushing him away from you half-heartedly when he sits down and wraps an arm around you.

Frankie waits for you to settle, watching you intently as his eyes flick back and forth between your lips and eyes. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” He says lowly, tightening his hand around your shoulder.

“I’m asking because…I’m concerned.” Frankie was running his fingers through his hair like his life depended on it, yanking at the roots before sitting down on your couch. “Do you remember how you shut down in the coffee shop? What happened there?”

Frankie had been more open about his feelings since starting therapy, and you wanted to encourage that. Sitting down next to him, you sigh. “I was insecure.”

“Why?” Is his immediate response. He didn’t understand how you could be insecure-he was absolutely infatuated with you.

“I thought that Anna wanted to…try and…” You shuffle and readjust, embarrassed next to him. “It feels silly now, but I thought she wanted to like…take you away from me. Even though we weren’t together.”

Frankie pauses tilting his head. It suddenly clicks in his head, the day he was hiding in your closet and the face you made after her comment. “Was she serious? That day I was hiding?”

You shake your head. “No, no. She and I have this, stupid running joke from high school that I grew out of and she…well she didn’t. And, I didn’t tell her sooner–”

“Why?” Again Frankie pushes, clenching his teeth.

“So many questions.” You smile as he leans back, mumbling to himself to chill out. You take a deep breath and try to start somewhere in the story that makes the most sense. “A couple years ago, I was trying to rebound off a guy that had been dating me that was really in love with her.” He grumbles more, not giving a true response but frowning deeply. “And the rebound, he was just a fuck boy…didn’t mean anything, but I was getting attached because it had been so long since I felt like someone wanted me, you know? And he had sex with Anna in the bathroom like that night anyway.”

“She knew you liked him and fucked him anyways?” Frankie’s anger is apparent now, and your cheeks heat with both embarrassment and happiness. Frankie being protective over you was a nice change.

“I thought she knew, yeah.” You say quietly. “But she didn’t know. I’m giving her a chance to…fix it.”

Frankie pauses, trying to go through his memories of Anna interacting with him before he cuts them short and grabs your hands. “Thank you for telling me.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, peppering kisses to your knuckles until you lean back on the couch with him. He pauses when you sigh, a small smile appearing as you look at him. “I don’t like guessing what you’re feeling.”

You nod, clearing your throat of any lingering emotion. “I’m working on it.”

A final kiss to your cheek before he squeezes your hand. “We can work on it together.”

You take a deep breath, trying to avoid his gaze. You’re still trying to make sure you say exactly what you’re feeling-no room for guessing. No room for error, just like you both had agreed on. “I’m worried.”

He hums, bringing his other hand up to your cheek and lightly tracing your jaw. “I am too. Anything specific?”

You bite your lip, wincing at how the immediate thought was of him dying. “I’m worried about whether you will be okay.” You whisper, trying your best to hold back tears.

You don’t succeed when Frankie tilts his head and blinks slowly at you, a small but sad smile appearing on his face. His thumb brushes under your eyes, willing your tears away. “You know there’s a plane ticket for you, for two weeks from now, to come down there with a list of locations and names if you don’t hear from me.” He whispers back. “Do you want me to not go?”

You scoff again, pulling your face away from his hold and wiping at your own eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to go.”

“But do you really not want me to go?” He asks again, resting his hand on your knee.

You pause, shaking your head. “That’s not up to me.”

He waits, squeezing your leg to get your attention back on him. “Let me bring back this money, with all of us in one piece.”

You nod, letting tears flow freely now. “I’m scared, Francisco.”

He gasps lightly, the sound of his full name rare to come out of your mouth. “I’m scared too.” He goes to stand, but falls on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs to let him shuffle between them, to be closer to you. “Look at me, baby.” He pulls your attention with a sudden jolt at how serious his tone has become. “I can’t make promises to you. I can’t tell you I will come back without it eating at me while I’m there. I would hate to make you a promise and for the worst to happen. But everything has been thought of, from every angle possible.”

You nod, wiping at your face again. He grabs at your wrists, holding you firm before pulling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours. He pushes his tongue against yours, aggressive in how he shows his want for you, and something tells you that he needs it like this–that its the only way to distract him from his own worries.

You think it will distract you too.

Burying your hands into his hair, you press your mouth to his desperately again. He groans in surprise, but lets you lead and slides his hands down your sides, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You pull back enough to nip at his jaw, at the bald spot in his beard before sucking a mark into his skin.

He hisses, pulling you flush to him and silently lifting you and himself, blindly walking toward your bedroom. You stay attached to his neck, desperate for something he can feel for the next few days while he is gone. He drops you on the bed, laughing when you squeak in surprise and bobbing up and down on the mattress as he reaches for the band of your shorts.

You’re trying to commit it to memory. The sound of his moans, his laugh, the way his skin slides against yours. There’s this voice deep in your brain warning you to not forget, because you don’t know what will happen. It distracts you enough that suddenly you look up when Frankie calls your name, waiting for your eyes to flick to his. “Come back to me, baby.”

You shakily inhale, reaching for him to lean over you rather than sitting above, pressing your lips to his again lightly. You’re naked together, skin to skin as he breathes deeply and watches you. The words are stuck in your throat, dry and unable to emerge.

Frankie brings one hand to your cheek, holding you steady. You feel his press against your center, wet with want and anticipation. “I love you, querida.”

You gasp at the words, him slowly sliding into you and holding his position fully seated inside. He groans, closing his eyes for a moment before locking them back on yours. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”

“I hear you.” You whine, shutting your eyes tightly and wincing at the feeling in your heart-how it breaks that he might not come back. “I love you.”

He sighs in relief, sliding out of you before pressing in again and setting a slow pace. “That’s it baby. Take me. You’re so fucking good for me, huh?” He holds himself above you, leaning back to sit up straight as he watches you squirm, clutching at the bed sheets, for one of his arms. He keeps eyes contact with you as he gathers spit in his mouth, letting it slowly drop on to your clit before pulling back again and setting a rougher pace. “Fuck–I love you so much.”

You begin to cry, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you, of the feeling of him loving you. He leans forward worriedly, asking if you’re alright but continues when you dig nails into his back. “Keep going. Fuck–p-please.”

He shushes you, keeping close to you as he brings you and himself to release. He whispers how much he loves you, and you to him, resting on top of you while still inside. You revel in the feeling of each other, only realizing you’ve started to doze off when he leans away. “You’ll either love it, or you’ll hate it.”

You frown, confused by what he’s saying while trying to be conscious enough to understand. Frankie slides off the bed, naked as he walks back into your living room and shuffles around in the duffle he brought with him.

When he comes back he smiles, hands behind his back before kneeling on to the bed and relaxing next to you. He pulls his hat out from behind him, holding it out to you expectantly. “I…I want you to hold on to this.”

With shaking fingers you reach out, rubbing the worn fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Are you sure? It’s your favorite.”

He smiles, nodding. “Yeah, baby. Don’t want to lose it in the jungle.” Your breath hitches, tears coming to your eyes. You nod, watery and worn as you lean into him for a hug. You feel his own breath hitch with your ear against his chest. “I love you, baby.”

You sniffle, trying to control yourself. “I love you too.”

You swallow your tears as Frankie drives up the long dirt road to the hangar. “Covertly leaving.” He said early this morning, kissing you lightly at the crook of your neck. “Don’t want to be stopped at the airport like last time.”

He can feel your nerves, and he works hard to keep his own at bay as he holds on to your knee. The bumpy road doesn’t affect you like it did on the first date, the early morning light just barely peeking over the horizon.

You’ve been silent since you left the apartment with him, stoic in how you present. You’re trying to keep it together.

When Frankie pulls up to the building, Will’s truck is tucked behind a few trees and covered with a tarp just as planned. You’ve been given explicit instructions to drive Frankie’s truck back to your apartment and to work as if he is staying with you, as well as where all of the paperwork is for what he owns and who to contact. You’re a crucial part to the plan.

Frankie grabs his spare hat from the backseat, old and ratty, placing it on his head with a sigh. He swallows roughly as he steps out and around to your side, opening the passenger door to find you still sitting and staring straight forward. “Alright?”

You nod, grabbing onto his outstretched hand and hopping out of his truck. You clear your throat as you step into the hangar, Frankie’s fingers squeezing yours briefly before he stepped away to the helicopter that had been brought in for the mission. You stand awkwardly at the doorway, eyes flicking over to the other boys who are around the folding table where hot coffee is made.

“Up early, aren’t you?” Santiago’s voice filters through your thoughts, his gentle smile filling your vision.

“A-a little.” You flash a smile, accepting the coffee from Santi’s outstretched hand and holding it with shaking fingers. You hope it will keep your hands warm.

Santiago stands in front of you awkwardly, watching Will and Benny gather duffles and loading them into the helicopter while Frankie does his routine of checking the helicopter in the pit. Santiago’s brow furrows for a moment before he looks up to you again. “Is…a-are you and Anna, doing better?”

The question disarms you, shaking your head in confusion. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good. I just ask because…well, you know.” Santiago clears his throat awkwardly again. “Sorry, I uh…is Anna doing okay?”

You sigh, seeing where this is going. “She’s okay. Yeah.” You pause for a moment, debating how much to share. “She…worries about you.”

Santiago’s eyes brighten in what you think is hope before dampening. You stare at it for a long moment, his eyes are dark, tired and drooping. He looks to be frowning, but you think it’s just how his face has stayed since him and Anna broke up. “I worry about her too.”

He nods at Frankie as he approaches, stepping away without another word. His hand rests on the small of your back, your hands still clutching the cup of coffee Santiago gave you. It’s purple out now, the sun filtering through the trees in a way that makes everything appear different. The air is still crisp, biting against your skin.

When Frankie turns you to face him, his fingers pushing your chin up to look him in the eye. “It’s time for you to go home, baby.”

You breath catches as you nod. “O-okay.” You swallow before blurting out. “Please be safe.”

He blinks slowly, smiling. “Two weeks. I left my wallet on my bedside, I want you to buy yourself groceries while I’m away with my card.” You go to tell him no, but he stops you with a heavy sigh. “I love you. Do you hear me?”

“Frankie, I’m not using your card, there won’t be a trace of you leaving anyways. I’ll drive your truck I swear–”

“Do you hear me?” He interrupts, holding you still as he looks to be committing you to memory.

You sigh, nodding once. “I love you, too.”

You wait by the driver’s door of his truck, as he takes a step back. “Buy food with my card. Not because of the mission, but because I want you to eat. Two weeks, and I’ll be back.” He says quietly, waiting for you to open the door and drive away.

It’s awkward for a moment, as your mind is racing but your body is still. “Right. Two weeks.” You agree, finally turning to his truck and shutting the door. You look at him as you start the ignition, pulling the gear into reverse. He stands in the drive as you go down the dirt road, watching him in the rearview mirror. He stands tall, hands in his pockets as he watches you before waving just once. Tears sprout out of your eyes the moment he disappears over the hill.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic

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iguessitsjustme · 23 days

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Deep Night Ep 2 Thoughts

Just finished watching episode 1 and I am READY for episode 2. I got my cake. My headache is gone. I’m feeling just as rambly as earlier so another cut for you guys:

Khem is a sleepy boy. It makes me sleepy.

Who wants to help me kill all street noise forever and ever so I can live a quiet and peaceful life but still live in the city? Any takers? No? That’s fair.

I still want to hug Pan. I cannot explain it. But it feels like my boy needs a hug.

Seriously WHO sings the opening? Do you know how hard it is to carry a song that relies to heavily on vocals like this? And the vibrato??? I’m losing it. Not only do they have the range but very obviously they have superb vocal control. Someone remind me to look this up later.

Khem is a little shit but he did grow on me. I knew he would.

Did he spray perfume on a comb? Actually I want that comb. It looks like a very good head scratching comb.

These two are doing desire very well. I bet they’ll kiss pretty. Well I already knew First does desire well cause of Y-Destiny. Which also you cannot convince me his episodes don’t become poly after. You can take the poly out of my cold dead hands.

Look at that. Still in love with Khem’s mom.

Pan gets immediately caught by Khem. Love it.

Bitch you gonna blackmail him to not having you escorted out by using the video you were told numerous times by multiple people to stop recording? I’m gonna steal your phone and oops look at that it fell in the toilet. I’m gonna go key her car too.

I love Pan. So much. Adore him. I want to put him in bubble wrap and protect him for the pain of the world. At all costs.

The soundtrack for this show isn’t gonna win any awards but it is very good at setting the tone.

Oooohhhh so me and Khem are the same. Into the drink. Get rid of the phone goodbye

Drunk Wela is so cute.

I was right. They kiss pretty.

Oh the hands went right down the pants. I do not know what to make of the music in this scene. Fascinating.

*eats chip* good thing Khem went and hid all of those pictures just for Wela to immediately find one.

Wrong conclusion my dude. But not a bad one. I am also Freya’s fan. And future spouse..

Pan is my baby. I love him.

I don’t know how to tell y’all this but I dress like Khem. My cardigans aren’t as nice though.

This scene in Wela’s mother’s restaurant is just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Please tell me that whole scene has many gifs.

Wela’s mom is precious. Love her.

If I get interrupted by a loud neighbor one more time I might just start crying. Thank god I don’t have a headache anymore can you imagine?

It concerns me how cute they are in episode 2. Like what is gonna happen? I fear.

Well now I think I gotta watch episode 3. As it turns out I have no self control.

#deep night #deep night the series #deep night series #rae liveblogs deep night #actually not as rambly as the first one #at least one more episode tonight i think

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spinachandhoney · 2 months

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SnakeFace episode 15 script

[prone to change]

[script under cut]

“Rain still not giving up?” Joey trodded down the stairs in a robe and slippers.

“Is that my robe?” Kim asked.

“You aren’t wearing it.”

“Touche. You can take it if you want, I never wear it.”

“How kind of you.”

“And yes, it’s still raining,” Val said, lounging on the loveseat.

“Where are Hans and Ivan?”

“Ivan’s still in his room, I think,” Kim said in a low voice, holding a mug in her hands. “Nothing on Hans.”

Joey nodded and walked across the room. “At least it’s not storming anymore. Still, it’s a lot of rain in 14 hours for early April.”

“Just be glad it isn’t flooding,” Val said. “I live on the cliffside, so when it floods the water level makes the house shake. Trust me when I say it is not a fun experience.”

Joey looked out the window. “You think they’ll call off school?”

“Doubtful,” Kim said. “Unless there’s a flood warning.”

The three of them waited a while longer for Ivan to join them in the den. Kim was making breakfast by then.

“Is it still raining?” The snake asked groggily.

“Take a guess,” Joey said. “It’s not coming down as hard as it was last night, but the winds are terrible right now.”

“Is that enough to cancel school, because I’m really not feeling like going today?”

“It couldn’t hurt to check.”

Ivan and Joey sat on the couch to check the weather app, and then the school’s daily newsletter.

“Looks like this is the least rain we’re getting all day. It’s supposed to storm again this afternoon. Principal Reid says it’s better not to show up today because of the wind. Looks like you get to stay home, Ivan.”

Ivan practically melted into the couch.

“My packages will still be delivered though, right,” Val grumbled. “I hate late packages.”

“Mail deliveries shouldn’t be delayed until after two, so I think you’re good, Val.”

Val whispered a silent victory “yes” to himself. “Oh, crap, what about Hans?”

“We could probably make a quick trip to his house and back before the weather gets too serious. Honestly, I’m surprised they cancelled school at all.”

“Maybe principal Reid doesn’t feel like driving in the rain,” Kim came into the room. “Food’s ready. Could someone go get Hans?”

Val toppled onto the floor. “I’ll get him. We’ll drop him off after breakfast.”

Ivan’s mom left soon after Kim finished cooking. She was off to look for another job to apply for. It was hard for Ivan not to have his mom around; he relied on her for a lot of things. He did have Kim to help him most of the time, but sometimes you just need that comforting “mom” presence.

Ivan and Val went with Hans while Joey and Kim stayed at the house. This was mostly in case Val managed to get lost again on his way home, and Ivan had a pretty good sense of direction. That, and Joey didn’t feel like getting dressed. <add a fun panel of Joey refusing to take off the robe>

“Come over again whenever,” Ivan said. “Hopefully next time Kim’s parents are home too.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hans said before closing the front door.

Val and Ivan hadn’t had a lot of time to hang out with just the two of them, but then again Ivan never really hung out with anyone one-on-one other than Kim.

“So, Val,” Ivan said as they turned around. “You said you lived on the cliffs; what’s your house like?”

“It’s pretty big,” Val answered. “Really old, too. The inside is always dark because, well, vampires. I try my best to stay out as much as possible, though.”

“Really? Why?”

“My family has never been super fond of me. My sister and I are… different from the rest of my family.”

“Different how?”

“Maybe another time. I think you’d like my sister, though. Anyway, back to the house. When I am home, I usually stay in my room or the music hall.”

“You have a music hall?”

“It’s more of a living room with a piano in it. No one knows how to play but my parents, though, and my dad hasn’t played in decades. I’ve never actually heard him play before. But my mom loves the piano. Any time she plays, she puts her whole heart into the piece.”

“So I take it you have a good mom?”

“I do love her a lot. She spends most of her time with my dad, though, so I don’t get to spend time with her that often. She’s really the only one of my family members other than my little sister that actually acknowledges my existence. My older brother and sister and my cousins… not so much.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up-”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s not like I care about what they think, anyway. I’m my own person, and what they say about me doesn’t matter.”

Ivan admired the confidence in Val’s statement, but he could tell it wasn’t the full truth.

“You know, I might take you guys by my house sometime. It doesn’t have a stargazing tower, but it has its charm.”

“It sounds really cool.”

Val smiled. The wind started to pick up as they reached the woodline. They passed a delivery truck on their way down the street. When they got back to the house, several packages were sitting on the doorstep. Val’s face lit up.

“Aw, man, we could’ve picked up some paint on our way back,” Val stood in front of the boxes.

“Well, we can get the packages inside and then ask Joey and Kim if they want to go back out with us.”

“I doubt we’ll get Joey out of that robe, but we can try.”

Kim moved the boxes into Val’s room with ease (she used magic). They pitched the idea of going out shopping before the next storm hit.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Kim said. “We could use some groceries, too. It is a pretty far walk, though…”

“I got this,” Joey said. “My sister’s place is on the way, we can walk there and I can get my car. Gives me an excuse to finally bring the rest of my things here.”

“Alright, you go get dressed and we’ll be on our way.”

Joey moped up the stairs as he took off the robe. He came back down quickly, his shirt only halfway on as he ran to the door. He straightened his clothes out. “Okay, let’s go.”

#snakeface comic #webtoon #webtoon canvas #webcomic creator #webcomic #script #snakeface script

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james-riley-author · 2 years

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For those of you who've finished TALL TALES...

When writing book 3, HAPPILY EVERY AFTER, I originally had started with a prologue starring ....uh, let's just say the same character as in the epilogue of TALL TALES, along with some other very familiar faces. We ended up cutting it, since it wasn't really needed and we wanted to jump back into things with Lena, but I thought it might be fun for those of you who've finished book 2 to see what's coming, since book 3 won't be out until next May. This wasn't edited too much, since we took it out pretty early, so ignore any mistakes or bad writing :) And again, only read once you've finished TALL TALES! (And a spoilery cover for book 3 should be okay to share very soon!)

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

The End, Gwentell wrote, and sighed deeply, just thrilled to be done. Who knew writing could be so hard? And why did stories need so many words? It was such a pain to write them all out by hand. She winced as she rubbed her palm, wondering if the soreness would ever go away.

But with the fairy queen’s ball coming the very next day, there’d been no time for breaks. They needed to get the plan started, now.

Grabbing the book, she emerged from a tiny bedroom into the kitchen of the cabin she’d been hiding out in, where a large pot of stew bubbled over a roaring fire, and humans of varying levels of annoyance waited anxiously for her.

“Finally!” shouted Jillian, the former Invisible Cloud of Hate. She bolted to her feet, which accidentally –– or not so accidentally –– threw her black cape into the face of the annoyed royal at her side. “You’re the slowest writer ever.”

“Is it finished?” asked King Phillip, pushing aside Jill’s cape to stand up as well. “Are we ready?”

“Perhaps you could give me a chance to speak, and then you might find out?” the fairy princess said, glaring at the man. She hadn’t liked Phillip much when he was just a prince, and becoming king hadn’t improved him noticeably in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Gwentell,” said Queen Penelope from Phillip’s side, their royal outfits matching in every way except for all the wrinkles on hers, as if she’d slept in them more than once. “Everyone’s just anxious to help.”

Gwentell smiled her thanks to the queen, loving Penelope just as much as she hated the woman’s husband. After all, Penelope had spent so much time under the fairy queens’ protection in the homelands that the fairies had all come to know her well, and to know her was to love her. The fact that Penelope ended up in love with Phillip might have turned them all against the former prince even more.

Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change that? Gwentell could write them directly into her book, and maybe add a line or two about their love fading, just to see what happened…?

Focus, she told herself, shaking her head. There are bigger problems now. Like where’s the most annoying human, and my delightful May?

She quickly searched the room, only to find both sitting in the corner, their twin children on their laps, laughing at something their mother was saying. Jack had a look of such pure love on his face as he watched his family that Gwentell almost, almost forgave him for his faults. At least one of them. One of the minor faults.

Then she remembered how irritating he was, and knew that would never happen.

“Jack, May,” Gwentell said, nodding at the two. “We’re ready. I know you hate leaving your children again––”

“They’ll be fine,” said a voice from an open doorway, and an older man stepped into the room next to Jack, his son. The two looked far more alike than either one was probably comfortable with, though Jillian resembled their father even more. The older man leaned forward, and lifted little Jacklyn from her mother’s lap and perched her on his hip. “My wife’s magic will keep them hidden here.”

Gwentell sighed, not thrilled with relying on the woman. Jack’s father had married a witch a number of years ago, according to the humans, but the woman refused to come anywhere near a fairy. Gwentell couldn’t exactly fault her for that, not after everything she’d learned abou the queens, but it did feel a bit unfair, considering how hard she was trying to fix things.

Still, all that mattered was the witch’s ability to keep Jack and May’s children safe until the story was done. At that point, they’d have either succeeded, so the fairy queens wouldn’t be a danger to anyone, let alone Jack and May’s children, or they would have failed, in which case nowhere would be safe.

“Good enough,” Gwentell said, then turned to Jillian, who was now tapping her foot impatiently. “You, sit. We have a lot to go over, and you’ve got one of the more important jobs.”

“Obviously,” the woman said. “But could we get this moving? My genie friend Jin is trapped in that lamp, and I don’t want him in there one minute longer than necessary.”

“Good,” Gwentell said with a smile. “I love that energy, because you’re going to the fairy homelands to find the lamp that’s holding him. Use your Eye sword to stay hidden while you locate the lamp. Don’t try to steal it, though! If you get caught with it, the whole plan is doomed. Once you find it, contact me with its location and I’ll get it myself when we’re ready. You know the song that will reach me, right?”

“Sure, sure,” Jill said, her impatience quickly turning to excitement, which made Gwentell a bit nervous. “I love these kinds of missions, where it’s just me against––”

“Phillip and Penelope are going too,” Gwentell said, and Jill groaned loudly.

“Wonderful!” Penelope said, her eyes drooping slightly from tiredness. “I haven’t been back to the fairy homelands in years.”

“We will be undercover, my love, so I would not imagine there will be time to sightsee,” her husband told her with a grin.

“Actually, you won’t be undercover, because you’re going to be a distraction,” Gwentell said, secretly delighting in how quickly Phillip’s smile faded. “Sorry, Penelope, but the fairy queens love you, and for some reason they even think fondly of your husband, so I need the two of you to spring an official visit on them. Try to keep them occupied so Jillian can move about undiscovered.”

“Oh, what a fantastic plan,” Penelope said, her eyes opening just slightly wider in excitement. “I’ve never been a distraction before. You can count on us. We’ll tear the queens’ castle down if we have to!”

“Or just do all that royalty garbage you people do, with the rituals and everything,” Jillian said, shaking her head. “Maybe pretend they forgot to invite you to a birthday party, so you came to curse them?”

Phillip glared at her, while his wife just laughed. “You probably didn’t know this,” Penelope said, “but that exact thing happened to my parents when I was born––”

“She knows,” Phillip said as Jill smirked at him.

“And what’s our job, Gwentell?” asked May, rising to her feet now as her husband handed their second child to his father and did the same. Just like Penelope, Gwentell couldn’t help but love May, all these years later. Of course, some of that was due to the woman’s own bit of magic, which made non-humans of all kinds adore May, whether they be pirate monkeys or birds and mice or, well, fairykin. That one had come from Merriweather herself, blessing an important hero in The Tales of All Things when she’d been born, though May had disappeared soon after, her story in The Tales disrupted by the Wicked Queen and her shadow magic.

“You and your husband are coming with me,” Gwentell said, glaring at Jack. “After all, we’ll be restoring giants to their former size, so I’ll need Jack where I can see him at all times.”

Jack sighed as he slipped his Eye sword scabbard onto his back. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Let what go?” Gwentell asked, her eyes narrowing. “You mean the time you abandoned me in the castle of the giant king over a harp? Huh, I’d completely forgotten until now.”

“Better you go than the giant-slayer over there,” Jack’s father said, nodding at Phillip, who grinned with pride.

“No one’s slaying giants ever again,” Gwentell said quickly. “If everything goes as planned, giants and humans will learn to get along, all thanks to my story, and my incredibly inspiring hero, Lena.” She held up her book, Happily Ever After, and opened it to the first chapter so they could all see her hard work, and compliment her as she deserved.

“Wait, why is it so short?” Jillian said, quickly moving in closer to stare at the open pages. She reached out to turn the page, then snorted. “That’s all you wrote, one or two sentences per chapter? And it took you this long? Wow.” Gwentell tried to yank the book back, but Jill held it tightly, not giving it up as she read further. “And it’s not even well-written! You’re just describing what Lena does in a completely matter of fact way! Where’s the wordplay? Where are the cliffhangers? If we all have to live out this story, at least make it fun to read. This is just––”

Gwentell narrowed her eyes, then hummed a quick spell, sending Jillian to the fairy homelands in mid-sentence. “Anyone else want to criticize my writing?” Everyone immediately looked away, and she nodded. “Good. Phillip and Penelope, you’re up next, and then it’s finally time to start the story.”

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letarasstuff · 3 years

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Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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vanderlustwords · 3 years

Note

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #steve x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #v.myfic

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unoriginalmess · 3 years

Text

Untitled Feralnette Fic Ch. 1

Hiya there anyone who happens upon this first chapter of this fic. I would like to start out by saying that this is my first fanfic ever. I've been wanting to write a fic for the miraculous fandom for a while but I haven't had any inspiration until I stumbled upon this glorious AU created by @bigfatbreak. I highly suggest checking out all of their posts about this au because they are hilarious and genius and about 100 other amazing adjectives that could be used to describe them and their posts. Anyways enough with my rant and let's get on with the fic. ⚠️Slight angst⚠️ ⚠️Swearing⚠️

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When Marinette got home after her and Luka's breakup, all she could do was cry. She wanted to be with him, but her Ladybug duties came first. If lying is a deal breaker for him, then maybe it was best that they ended it now while their relationship was still in its early stages. Still, she couldn't help but feel the loss of her first relationship. She ended up crying for a whole entire day. She just hoped that Hawkmoth(or Shadowmoth or whatever the fuck he wanted to be referred to as this week) wasn't feeling particularly akuma-y today, because she didn't know if she could bottle up all these feelings, even though the world is relying on her ability to do so.

Ugggghhh!! It has been exhausting having to be "happy and perfect Marinette" and "happy and perfect Ladybug" All. The. Time. She's also pretty sure that Hawkmoth had discovered the similarities in her personality as Marinette to Ladybug, and that's why she's been targeted by multiple akumas lately. She has had to have her emotions under control even more than usual. If only there was a way to get Hawkmoth to stop targeting her. Maybe she should just not give a fuck anymore. Haha as if! It couldn't be that easy! Could it?

The more she thinks about it the more it starts to make sense. If she just let herself go completely crazy as Marinette, she would be killing like 10 birds with one stone. She would get hawkmoth off of her trail, she wouldn't have to deal with having to hide her emotions all of the time, she wouldn't have to deal with the added stress of maintaining her perfect persona, she wouldn't have to deal with the stress of Lila's lies taking her friends away if she didn't have friends in the first place, and so much more stress would be taken off of her plate! It was perfect! It might hurt a little at first, but it's for the best in the end. She spent that night planning out her outfit for tomorrow, doing her homework, and going to sleep knowing that, in the morning, François Dupont isn't gonna know what hit them.

....

Adrien Agreste had been having a rough week. He had been abandoned on patrol by ladybug, been broken up with by his girlfriend, and was feeling completely and utterly alone. He knows that his lady has been feeling overwhelmed by her guardian duties lately, and that he 100% deserved that verbal lasting that kagami had given him but he couldn't help but feel this way. He was also feeling guilty about lying to kagami and leading her on for so long. After she broke up with him he took some time to assess his feelings for her and realized that he had more of an admiration for her than an infatuation. He definitely didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him. She told him that she LOVED HIM, and he was so distracted (blinded) by ladybug that he didn't even process her confession. So, he was looking forward to Sunday morning. He cleared his schedule and on that beautiful Sunday morning, he did what he is only allowed to do on very rare occasions: sleep in. Or at least... thats what he had planned on doing.

When Nathalie had knocked on his door that morning Adrien was not in a good mood. He vaguely heard her say something about father wanting him downstairs in some amount of time for something involving a business partners child and some other robotic sounding words that his half asleep brain couldn't process completely.

"I have a cleared schedule this morning, Nathalie. What could father possibly want me for that is more important than my precious sleep?" He asked snappily.

"Your father wants you downstairs to welcome the new guest that will be living in the house for the rest of the school year. You have 15 minutes to make yourself look presentable and I suggest leaving the attitude upstairs," she half informed/half reprimanded him. As she walked away, Adrien reluctantly rose from his nice warm bed and went to go get ready with only one thought racing through his mind: Who could possibly be staying with them?

....

Felix Culpa was not looking forward to living at the Agreste mansion for the rest of the school year, but for their parents' sake they would do what they had to. It wasn't all for their parents either, they were also concerned about the strange "dissapearance" of Emilie (who was his aunt in all ways except blood relation) and about the treatment of Adrien since said "disappearance".

You see, Felix Culpa is the heir to the Culpa Fabric Empire. The Culpas have been the sole fabric supplier of the Agreste brand since the very beginning. Felix's mom Diana was best friends with Emilie since their college days. Diana and Emilie made the deal with the two brands because as best friends who are both involved in the same industry, it just made sense to have a business relationship with each other. Diana never really cared for Gabriel as a person, but she could tell that he loved Emilie more than anyone else in the world so she could tolerate him for the sake of her best friend.

When Emilie went missing, Diana was absolutely devastated and tried anything she could to find her. She invested in missing person ads as large as billboards, organized search teams, tried to aid the police in their search for her in any way she could, but there was no leads, no legitimate calls to the number on the billboards, and the search team came up empty handed. While she was doing all of this to try to find her, she couldn't help but be furious over the fact that Gabriel was doing nothing to help in the search. All he did was hole himself up in his oversized mansion and call it a day.

The last straw for Diana was when Gabriel tried to use the "grieving my wife" excuse to try to abuse their business arrangement. That day, she told him that the Culpa brand would no longer be associated with the Agreste brand and that after the new collection is released, he would need to find a new fabric supplier. She knew that the Agreste brand would take a huge hit from having sub-par fabric, but she never thought that Gabriel would try to make up for that fact by using Adrien as a walking mannequin and locking him up in the desolate prison that he calls a home. As soon as she realized that he was doing this she scrambled to find a solution.

That is how Felix ended up here, standing in front of the mansion they would be living in for the next 9 months in exchange for Gabriel getting back into the Culpa brand's good graces. Don't get them wrong, they were excited about being able to be in Paris, home of the most innovative fashion pieces in the world, and about being able to see their honorary cousin Adrien (who wasn't half bad to be around despite him having no backbone whatsoever when it came to anything involving his father) but dealing with Mr. Agreste was definitely one of the low points of this arrangement.

They decided to just get it over with and knocked on the door. It was opened by the man that their cousin affectionately referred to as Gorilla. They nodded a thank you to the man, remembering that he was a man of few words, and proceeded to the bottom of the staircase. Mr. Agreste stood at the top with a very tired looking Adrien a few steps down. Felix wasn't even slightly surprised that this is where he chooses to welcome his guests, looking down on people must give him some sort of power trip or something. It's almost as if he heard the phrase "It's over, Anakin, I have the high ground," and made that his own personal motto. Whatever, let him have the feeling of false power if he wanted it, Felix knows that they have all the power in this situation and they're sure that Gabriel knows it as well.

"Hello Felix," Mr. Agreste greeted them with the same amount of warmth in his voice as liquid nitrogen, "while you are staying in this house you will abide by my rules. Adrien will inform you of them and show you to your room. You will attend school with him in the morning and I'm sure that you already know that you must represent not only the Culpa brand, but also the Agreste as well. I will be in my office working, do not disturb me. Contact Nathalie with any questions that cannot be answered by Adrien." He finished his spiel and left to what Felix assumed was his office space.

"Hello Felix!" Adrien greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his sleepy state. "Come with me and I'll show you to your room."

Adrien led Felix to their room and listed all of the rules of the household that they were expected to follow. And... wow. Felix could not believe that their cousin had to live like this. The only social interaction this kid gets is at school and fencing? Pre-approved outings only with people determined socially acceptable by Gabriel? And if he gets even one "B" he isn't even going to be allowed to go to school at all? Felix knew that the living situation was bad for Adrien but know the only question running through their head was: What did they get themselves into??

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And... thats it for chapter 1! Mostly background info at this point, but next chapter will be the class' reaction to feralnette and felinette meeting for the first time. I just want to say thanks again to @bigfatbreak for giving me the inspiration to write a fic for the first time ever. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve, especially at writing since this is my first time posting anything I've written online, so I want to get better so that I can make better content for you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know and I'll make a tag list for ya. :)

#feralnette au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #felix culpa #also in case i havent made this clear enough PLEASE go check out bigfatbreak #they made this fantastic au #i would love any title ideas if anyone has any because if you couldnt tell by my username im super unoriginal and cant make titles #if not it might just end up being untitled feralnette fanfic forever

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #marvel

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pwarkluv · 3 years

Text

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes.

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went.

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside.

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least.

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit.

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life.

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways.

he just wanted to be loved.

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood.

jisung wanted that, craved that.

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt.

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs.

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home.

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in.

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind.

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself.

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option.

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty.

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard.

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do.

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him.

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there. what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up.

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on.

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind.

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing.

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window.

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room.

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention.

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along.

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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years

Text

just this once pt.5

a/n: yall. yall im on a roll. and no i will not apologise for anything that happens in this chapter. also, still learning how to do taglists so if it doesn’t work or you weren’t included, send me a message and i’ll try to get it fixed!

Word Count: 4,285

Warnings: canon typical violence, non-explicit mentions of torture, mutant experimentation

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

“I think Fury is giving you a sign.”

Natasha looked up from her paperwork to see Maria leaning against the door frame to her office. She herself had just gotten back from a mission, evident in her slightly mused ponytail and gun still on her hip. A very beyond attractive look, if Natasha had to say it.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked, leaning back in her chair to give her full attention to her fiancee.

“So he didn’t tell you,” Maria said with a nod. She pushed herself off the door frame and moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“I’ll admit that gives me a clue,” Natasha said with a small frown. She didn’t like where this was going.

“He’s sending you on another mission,” Maria replied. “With Y/N.”

“I thought we told him emergencies only,” Natasha mused more to herself than to Maria.

It seemed like Nick was sending the both of you on every mission he could possibly come up with. He needed some information. Then he wanted the layout of a base. Then he wanted some recon on security in another location. All were things that Natasha not only could have done with someone else, but she could have gotten them done on her own.

He seemed to think differently.

“He wants you to leave tomorrow,” Maria continued, bringing Natasha out of her pouting. “Personnel recovery.”

“At least that gives us a few hours together,” Natasha said with a small smile.

“Maybe we can finally get some planning done,” Maria nodded as she stood up. “Maybe a colour scheme?”

“Red and black,” Natasha shot back.

“We’ll argue about it later,” Maria smiled. She walked over and tilted Natasha’s chin up to give her a quick kiss before leaving the office, presumably to get cleaned up.

Natasha looked down at her paperwork for not even five minutes before deciding she was going to rush upstairs and surprise Maria in the shower. She had just started piling the papers up when you walked in, harpoon on hip and soaking wet.

“Did you ask Fury for another mission?” You asked as you plopped into the chair opposite her, water instantly dripping down the sides of the seat.

“No,” Natasha said curtly, hoping she could get you out of her office sooner if she didn’t invite conversation.

“Then why is he sending us together?” You asked. Your fingers started combing through your hair, the webs gathering whatever was stuck. Drops of water splashed onto Natasha’s pristine papers.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said again, turning her lip up when you put a piece of seaweed on her desk.

“I thought you knew everything,” you huffed, staring intently as a shell you had pulled out of your suit sleeve.

“Well clearly not,” Natasha mumbled to herself.

You leaned over to rest your elbows on the desk, your dripping wet hair leaving puddles on the mahogany and her papers. Natasha set her jaw and gave you a look, keeping eye contact. But your eyes gave off that mischievous sparkle, the one that would make any woman swoon. And Natasha’s heart raced.

“Think I can get that in writing?” You asked with a raised brow. “You know, for the next time you act like a know-it-all.”

“Did you just come in here to act like an ass?” Natasha asked as she picked her papers up and started walking out.

“Actually,” you started as you pushed away from the desk and stood up, “I’m here to bring you this.”

You held your open hand out, palm up, and Natasha looked cautiously to see what it was. In the middle of your palm was a whole shell, with a small black pearl in the centre. It looked absolutely stunning, and Natasha reached out to gently take it.

“Why did you bring this to me?” Natasha asked, although she feared she already knew your answer.

“Cheeseburger found the shell the other day,” you shrugged, “and Roger got the pearl out.”

Natasha did her best not to chuckle at the silly names you had given the octopus and otter that usually inhabited your moon pool. Cheeseburger, the octopus, had lost two limbs and had a nasty habit of stealing your cheeseburgers (hence the name), while Roger was an in-progress rehabilitation project. Unfortunately, the three of you were like peas in a pod.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha mused, her eyes still glued to the pearl. “But I can’t take this home to my fiancee.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. The space between the both of you increased as you visibly took a step back, and Natasha missed the closeness. Things had seemed normal only a moment ago, and now she could feel you closing yourself off to her, going cold once again.

“Then give it to Maria,” you shrugged. “Get some brownie points before going off on another mission with her favourite person.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Natasha shot back. “I just don’t want to waste your gift.”

“It was just cluttering up my space,” you replied, voice cold.

“Give it to Yelena,” Natasha said softly, holding the shell and pearl back out for you to take. “She would love it.”

“Yelena,” you huffed with a small smile. A sad smile. You grabbed the shell from her hand rather roughly, causing Natasha to flinch. “Thanks for the input.”

“Y/N,” Natasha started, but you were already walking away in the opposite direction, head high and feet dragging.

Natasha sighed and started her own way back to her floor. She wanted Maria to distract her. From you.

———

“What’s our objective again?” You shouted from the back of the quinjet.

“Personnel recovery,” Yelena answered. “Some scientist wanted out of AIM.”

“Why is that my responsibility?” You continued. Your boots echoed off the floor and you popped your head in between Yelena’s and Natasha’s chairs.

“Because something smelled-”

“Don’t,” Natasha interrupted.

“-fishy,” Yelena finished anyway, and both you and Natasha groaned as she just laughed at herself.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Natasha mumbled to herself before turning her head and looking out the windows.

“I’ll throttle you,” you said as you lightly slapped Yelena upside the head.

“Listen,” she tried to say around another round of giggles, “if Fury ever told me his plans, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you two.”

“Well why don’t you find out? I wanna know why he’s sending me on this mission.”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? Surely you must have some kind of-”

“Can you both shut up?” Natasha shouted. The both of you grew silent immediately, and Natasha finally let out a breath and tried to rub her growing migraine away.

“Should’ve just sent Nat,” you grumbled. “She’s grumpy enough to scare everyone away all on her own.”

Yelena snorted, and when Natasha shot a look her way, she tried her best to look out the window. You, on the other hand, held up to her challenge and met her eyes. That ridiculous smirk refused to disappear, and Natasha wanted so desperately to wipe it off your face. But instead she just turned back around and looked out the window once again.

The rest of the trip was silent, only the occasional update being spoken aloud. Yelena managed to drop the both of you off and stayed in the jet, more than ready for when you both got back and could get back to the Tower for a well-deserved weekend.

It was a quick jog to the location, with tents and cages set up all around the landing port. The building was a few stories tall, but well fortified with guards around every corner. The majority of cages were empty, but every now and then you could hear a bear, a dog, a human.

“I thought these guys were scientists,” you whispered from where you were crouched beside Natasha.

“They are,” Natasha nodded.

“Must be pretty paranoid then,” you continued.

“You would be too if your work relied on illegal mutant experimentation,” Natasha clarified. You didn’t say anything else, but she could see your knuckles going pale.

“Let’s get our man and go,” you practically growled. “Before I kill them all.”

Natasha knew you weren’t joking.

You both went in opposite directions, you heading to the back door and Natasha heading to the side. There was no guaranteeing that the scientist was even inside at all, but that was the easiest place to check. There was too much vulnerability outside and Natasha wasn’t going to risk getting caught and failing another mission.

“How are we supposed to find one nerd in a facility full of nerds?” You asked over the intercoms, and Natasha assumed you had made it into the building.

“Be nice,” Natasha whispered, “not all scientists are nerds.”

“Bruce and Tony are,” you replied. Natasha pulled herself against a wall when she heard voices. “Everyone here is.”

“Hush,” Natasha whispered. You remained silent as Natasha listened to footsteps getting closer, and then turning into the opposite direction. She let out a quiet breath.

“Do we really want to help someone who’s torturing mutants?” You asked again, a barely contained anger in your voice.

Natasha rounded another corner, trying to come up with an answer for you. You weren’t wrong; she didn’t like the idea either. Why save the scientist when you could save the people instead? But Fury wanted him, and there had to be a reason for it. The location was known, so someone could always come back to save them another day.

“Nick will send us back another day,” Natasha finally said out loud. You huffed on the other end of the comms.

You both continued through the facility, methodically clearing rooms until finally you indicated you had found him. Some wiry man with broken glasses, according to your description. Natasha gave confirmation and headed to the meet up point, somewhere on the second floor. Once Natasha was about to round the corner to the location, she could hear your voice carrying through the halls.

“You’re lucky I don’t wring your neck myself.”

“What’s the problem?” Natasha asked as soon as she saw you.

You were right. The man was wiry and nerdy, something you would expect from a mad scientist in a comic book. White tape was wrapped around the nose piece of his glasses in stereotypical fashion and he was hunched over like the world was resting on his shoulders.

No surprise, considering you were hovering nearly a foot over him.

“He called me an animal,” you seethed, your hands visibly shaking with the desire to have them around the man’s neck.

“Look at your arms and neck, what else could you be?” He asked in a gruff New Jersey accent.

“You want an animal? I’ll show you an-”

“That’s enough,” Natasha demanded. She stepped in between the both of you and pushed you away, not even bothering to get near the man.

“If he has to go with us, then so does one of the mutants,” you said, leaving no room for argument in your voice.

“We can’t risk it, we’re leaving them here,” Natasha said quickly. The hair on the back of her neck was starting to stand up and her stomach felt like it was dropping.

“I’m not leaving them and taking that,” you said through clenched teeth while pointing at the scientist.

“You’re going to risk my life for one of them?” He asked, his face drawn in disgust at the mere thought that his life was equal to a mutant’s. Natasha wanted to strangle him.

“We will come back for them another day,” Natasha said again, but you didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not leaving without them, so you’re gonna have to wait,” you shot back.

Voices could be heard in the stairwell a few halls away.

“And I’m not risking another mission,” Natasha argued, walking closer to you and forcing you to step backward to keep your space.

“If you think I’m taking that and leaving one of those kids then you’re-”

Click.

The both of you froze, your eyes boring into Natasha’s. A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, so thick Natasha struggled to draw breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach returned.

And then your eyes left hers, trailing down to the too-tight cuffs that were now keeping you chained to the pipes against the wall. They weren’t the usual police handcuffs, but the kind that they had used on Loki after the invasion of New York.

You weren’t getting out of them.

“Natasha,” you started, your eyes moving back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered. She took one heavy step back, never taking her eyes off of you.

“Unlock them,” you continued. Your chest was starting to rise and fall slightly faster.

“Someone will come for you,” Natasha said again with a slight nod.

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Get back here, Romanoff,” you said as Natasha started leading the scientist down the hall.

Away from you.

She didn’t answer. She just felt her leaden boots take step after step, leading her further away from where you were chained. When she didn’t answer, she heard the sound of metal pulling against metal and your grunts and groans as you tried to yank the cuffs off.

“You can’t leave me here!” You shouted, your voice echoing down the hall after Natasha had turned the final corner.

She heard other voices coming from the same direction as yours, quickly followed by shouting and the solid thuds of blows being landed.

“Natalia!” You shouted again once Natasha had opened the door to lead the scientist out.

Only moments after the door shut, Natasha heard your scream. A scream of anger and frustration, a scream that reached down Natasha’s throat and ripped her heart out. The prick of tears in her eyes left a sinking feeling in her gut, left her feeling empty and a broken shell.

But she had a mission. And she was going to complete it.

She shoved the scientist in the direction of the quinjet and didn’t look back. Ignoring the whining and complaining coming from the man and eventually just throwing him into the back of the quinjet, ignoring the way Yelena jumped at the sudden noise.

“Where’s Y/N?” Yelena asked, moving her head around, trying to see if you were close behind.

“Get us in the air,” Natasha ordered. Tears pricked her eyes once again.

“Are they coming?” Yelena asked again, ignoring Natasha’s order.

“I said get us in the air, now.”

Yelena gave Natasha a look that sent a shiver down her spine, but turned around and got the jet in the air nonetheless. The scientist pulled himself into the seat next to Natasha. He seemed much more relaxed, and Natasha couldn’t blame him. He probably didn’t realise just how much had been risked to get him back to SHIELD.

“You made the right choice,” he said after some unbearable silence. Natasha turned to look at him, her brows pulled together.

“Excuse me?”

“You made the right choice,” he said again with an enthusiastic nod. “You never know what those animals might do-”

He was cut off with a choked gasp as Natasha slammed her elbow into his face, and he quickly lost consciousness.

“Just shut up,” she mumbled to herself, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

It didn’t make her feel any better.

———

It was six weeks before the party had been dispatched to get you back. The party had consisted of Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda, and there was going to be nothing extra. They were going to get you out and get back to SHIELD, no side missions, no stops, no questions.

Maybe it just so happened that the only way to get you was to burn the facility to the ground and get the rest of the mutants out. Maybe they had called for a second quinjet to arrive to make sure everyone was able to get out safely.

Yelena and Wanda were tasked with getting everyone on the jets and eliminating the few soldiers remaining while Natasha had scoured the facility top to bottom to find you. There was a large portion of the basement that Natasha had found, filled with surgical equipment and things that would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.

And you were there, nude, in a too-small empty glass tank with a chain around your ankle. There were rips and tears in the thin membranes between your spines, and a dark black mark on your left shoulder blade. From her angle, it looked like some kind of gunk was stuck in your gills. You were curled up into a fetal position and kept your eyes glued to the ground directly in front of you.

“Y/N,” Natasha said, her gun still drawn but lowered.

“I should thank you, Miss Romanoff,” a voice called, and Natasha spun with gun raised to find a scientist walk forward, standing near a panel by your tank. “You gave me my greatest obsession.”

“How about you just let them out and I don’t kill you,” Natasha shrugged.

“I’ve learned a lot from our little friend,” he continued, ignoring her. “And you’re in time to see the results of something I’ve been working on.”

“Let them go,” Natasha said again. She cocked the gun, but the man laughed.

“I hear drowning is a horrible way to die,” he said, still ignoring her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw you raise your head and look at her. The dark spots under your eyes were beyond evident, sticking out against the sickened colour of your skin. There was no emotion in your eyes, not even a silent plea for help.

You looked like you had already accepted death.

“How long do you think a sea creature can hold its breath underwater before it needs to breathe?” He asked, his fingers typing against the panel.

“Don’t,” Natasha shouted, her trigger finger pulling instinctively and burying a bullet into the man’s chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Water started filling your tank, and you stood up to get your head as tall as it could get. Natasha nodded at you once, and you covered your head as she fired shot after shot at the tank. But there wasn’t even a dent, nothing to indicate that the tank could be broken.

“What do I do?” Natasha asked as she ran up to the tank, watching the water slowly rise to your ankles.

You didn’t speak, didn’t open your mouth, instead pointing as best you could to a discrete pipe against the opposite wall. Natasha looked at it and followed the direction until she saw a lone wheel connected to the wall. A wheel that could control the water flow.

“Stay here,” Natasha told you as she ran off, grimacing to herself. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go.

She grabbed the wheel and pulled, but it didn’t budge. It felt like she was trying to pull a quinjet with her bare hands; an impossible task in and of itself. Her eyes trailed over to see the water had reached your waist. There had to be something else she could get, something to help.

The thud of your hands on the glass made her turn, and you were pointing in another direction. Her eyes followed, but there wasn’t anything she could see that would immediately-

A pipe.

Natasha sprinted to grab it from the table, nearly dropping it in her haste to get back to the wheel. The water was up to your neck, and Natasha could already see that your gills weren’t filtering anything. They stayed terribly still, and Natasha had to drag her feet to get back to the wheel.

She stuck the pipe into the empty spaces of the wheel and pulled, yelling in frustration until it finally moved. She continued pulling until she heard the flow of water stop, and a tired smile etched itself onto her lips as she turned back around to see you.

But the water was over your head, and now she was leaving you to drown.

She couldn’t break the glass; the water was off and you were still drowning. Your eyes were wide, and the fear of the situation finally made its way onto your face as you curled in on yourself and started pulling at the chain around your ankle, air bubbles escaping from your nose at a rapid rate.

Natasha got an idea. She didn’t hesitate as she started pushing the pipe, the flow of water rushing back. Only this time, she didn’t stop until the pipes rattled with the flow, barely able to contain the volume inside. She pushed until the pipe stuck, and she turned and ran back to the tank.

Your eyes were closing, the air bubbles almost nonexistent, your struggle against the chain ending. Natasha started banging on the glass, trying to keep you awake, but you didn’t move, instead just floating, and Natasha felt her heart sink.

The glass creaked under her fingers. Natasha’s eyes shot open and she watched the glass, noting the single crack that started to web across the entirety of the tank. She barely had time to step aside as the glass shattered, water shooting out and leaving you to drop to the ground.

When you didn’t move, Natasha jumped forward, dropping to the ground and immediately starting CPR. She could feel a rib break, maybe two, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t going to stop until you could breathe. You just needed to fucking breathe-

Your body shuddered as you choked, coughing up water before your eyes shot open. Natasha felt herself let out a shaky breath, but she didn’t let herself rest. She grabbed her gun and shot where the chain was connected to the floor, listening to it break before grabbing you and pulling you up.

“You need to lose some weight,” Natasha groaned as you leaned on her side, your feet barely moving.

You didn’t say a word the whole trip out of the facility. Just managed to drag yourself out, eventually walking more on your own when you neared the quinjet. Yelena ran up to the both of you and got on your other side, sharing a look with Natasha.

“I’ve got it,” Yelena said in a tone that told Natasha to let go and give her some space.

Natasha did, watching as Yelena finished dragging you to the quinjet and putting you in a seat before wrapping a blanket around your naked form. Your eyes fell back to the ground when Yelena finally got the jet in the air, and you refused to look at anyone when you got back to the Tower, leaving Natasha without a second thought.

———

Natasha was sitting at the bar on the common floor, picking apart her food. She had tried to see you multiple times over the past two weeks, only to be turned away by doctors or Yelena. There was something wrong, but Natasha couldn’t find out because no one would let her.

The ding of the elevator had her turning her head, not necessarily eager but casually curious on who had appeared. To her surprise, Yelena walked out with a McDonald’s bag in hand, some drink in the other. She didn’t look happy, but Natasha could’ve expected that.

After all, Yelena hadn’t forgiven her.

“How are they?” Natasha asked.

“Alive, no thanks to you,” Yelena shot back. But she had stopped and was talking back; that was an improvement from the past two weeks.

“I had a mission,” Natasha said, but her voice was small, weak.

“They were part of that mission,” Yelena answered.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said quietly. She said it to assuage her own guilt. It didn’t work.

“You’re stringing them along,” Yelena said, her voice taking a different tone that Natasha hadn’t been expecting. “Just marry Maria already and end the suffering.”

“I’m not stringing them along,” Natasha defended.

But she knew she was wrong. Yelena was right. And Natasha wasn’t going to stop because what would her life be without you? How could she go about her day-to-day life if she knew you weren’t going to be there in some fashion? Maybe she was in love with Maria and was going to marry her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to throw you away.

“Just be gentle,” Yelena said with a sigh. “Everyone has feelings at stake.”

“And you?” Natasha asked, causing Yelena to freeze. “What feelings do you have at stake?”

A small, sad smile made its way onto her face.

“Desire,” Yelena shrugged, but just like that her demeanour changed. “Y/N said I couldn’t eat before them, and I very much desire this McChicken.”

“You’re disgusting,” Natasha chuckled.

“And this McFlurry. You know the good stuff,” Yelena teased again, causing the both of them to laugh.

“Then go on,” Natasha motioned toward where she assumed you were waiting. “I’d hate for the two of you to starve.”

Yelena gave her a smile, one like the good old days, and continued her walk. She stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“Oh, Fury wanted me to tell you something.” Natasha gave her a look for her to continue. “You and Y/N are going undercover. As a couple.” With that, Yelena continued off, leaving Natasha to deal with the news.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

Taglist: @wickedmuses @m-zne237 @noodlybees @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @hopingforromanoff

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #my writing

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hellyeahheroes · 3 years

Photo

This amazing art piece showing Cass Cain in costume Bruce Wayne wore while training under Lady Shiva was commissioned by me and created by a wonderful artist @itsmespicaa (check out also her twitter) and in an amazing bit of timing she finished it yesterday, on my birthday.

Okay, so backstory of this idea. Back when it was unlikely we will ever see Cass in her beloved Batgirl suit and it was clear Orphan was not working as an identity, there was discussion about what other identity she should pick. I remembered then one of earliest Batman stories I’ve read and always had been found of.

It was part of the Knightfall saga, when Bruce asked Lady Shiva to help him get back into shape so that he can fight Azrael, who had been driven mad. Shiva told him to train while wearing the so-called Mask of Tengu, supposedly so that while he doesn’t feel ready to wear the Bat symbol, he may wear something evoking its spirit. Bruce was not aware Shiva has challenged and beat to death a revered martial arts master in this mask and now “Mask of Tengu” is an enemy number one to a whole army of very angry ninjas and a bunch of dangerous martial artists who studied under the guy.

(Whole costume for reference)

The story is deeply flaved in a myriad of ways. The plot is basically an excuse to throw ninjas at Bruce and how well it handles potraying them varies as much as you’d expect 4-part story with multiple writers and artists to handle it. Shiva’s potrayal falls into the typical 90′s Dixon - he would rather reuse her motivation of wanting to “corrupt the white hero into a killer” on Robin with even worse results. But I’ve always felt a tingle of nostalgia to it, not just because it was something I’ve read as a kid, but more on that in a moment.

The name “Mask of Tengu” makes no goddamn sense because there is no depiction no Tengu in Japanese folklore that I could find that is remotely like this mask. Adding to it that a Chinese woman (as much as Shiva’s exact herritage is ambigious it’s clear she’s mostly Chinese ad it’s not confirmed if she has any Japanese herritage or has been merely influenced b Japanese culture) and a white guy using a name from Japanese folklore is pretty tasteless, if Cass were to pick up the mask, the name would have to go.

However, I’ve always found the outfit itself pretty good due to it’s simplicity and the mask making it stand out among other “ninja/martial artist” outfits. I felt that with a different name (Shadow of the Bat would be my go to pick) it could work as new identity for Cass. It is tied to legacy of the Bat similiarly to Batgirl, yet like Black Bat it is removed enough to not be contested over and be molded into her thing easily i nthe way Black Bat could but never got a chance to. It is an identity one of her parents made synonymous with murder and so Cass could try to redeem it like she tried with Orphan.

And there is another thing, I realized, why I was always found of the time when Bruce was running in this costume despite all the flaws of the story. It was Batman stripped down from all bullshit. No utility belt that holds everything, no contingencies or prep time, no connections or preexisting reputation to use to scare people off. No car that can take down a tank, no private jet, no supercomputer or private lab at secret base. Just a fighter relying on his skills and quick thinking. In a way it was similiar to my favorite Cass stories that show her rarely rely on Bat-gadgets aside grappling hook and batrangs and use simply her many skills and in a pinch improvisation, creativity and sheer determination. Maybe it is that fact that draws me to an idea of Cass picking this costume, even while I’m happy to see her as Batgirl again.

So that was an inspiration for this commission - Cass holding the mask in a Hammlet homage (refferencing her love for Shakespeare) as if wondering whenever to take it and the baggage coming with it as her own.

I want to thank @itsmespicaa for this wonderful picture that made my birthday even happier than it already was. Hope I didn’t bore you all with my weird ideas. Please share whenever you think it would work as an identity/new outfit for Cass if she were ever to love Batgirl mantle again.

-Admin

#Batgirl #Cassandra Cain #commission #DC

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blisschi · 3 years

Note

Hello there! I haven't been feeling good (emotionally) lately. I have a request, if you don't mind. Can you make some headcanons of how Xiao and Albedo (they're both really popular but I must say they're my favorite comfort characters) would react to their traveler!s/o who is usually bright and cheerful (but is secretly really good at hiding how she truly feels) suddenly cries when they're both alone and had some privacy? The reason why traveler!s/o is sad is because they're tired of doing many works and people rely on her while she doesn't really have anyone to rely or trust to, and doesn't know what to do next after they met their twin (spoilers!). If you're not comfortable with spoilers then it's okay to ignore the spoilers part. Thank you very much. Have a nice day to you.

Hello!🌷🌿

Ahhh! Anon, Anon, Anon san.. I can totally relate to this request! Everyone can have some bad days from time to time.. and everyone needs comforting! I've been feeling pretty down lately but making you guys happy really brightens up my day!

I hope that with this request, I can make you feel a little better!

🌺s/o suddenly crying in front of them🌺

Pairings: Xiao/Albedo x Traveler! F! Reader!

Warnings: Hm.. none?

Notes: I'm still not used to writing for Albedo.. hehe.. I hope he's not too ooc 🙏🌸

🌿Xiao🌿

You were at the top of Wangshu Inn when Xiao caught you. All alone, near to the railing, staring towards the beautiful sight of the mountains.

He'd step up to you, slowly and carefully not to startle you.

Even if there's not much to say, he enjoys every single minute spent together.

He'd wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer, carefully. That's when you felt like you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You bursted into tears and pushed your face into the crook of his neck, leaving him speechless.

Did he do something wrong?

He'd cup your cheeks and look at you worriedly, kissing away your tears as he tries to soothe you.

When you calm down a little, you explain to him what bothers you.. that you have too much to handle, that you're very conflicted about what happened and that you feel left all alone.

He exactly knows how it feels though.. doesn't he? And trust me, he never wished for anyone to feel the same.

He'd hold you close and stroke your hair, making sure to give you all the support you deserve.

"Whenever you feel like something's too overwhelming.. speak my name."

He'd assure you, that you can count on him and that he's ready to help you with any little work you have!

He'd even offer you to just stay at Wangshu Inn for a while and let him take care of you.

This day, he wouldn't let go of you even for a moment. He'd spend every single minute with you, making sure you're getting the care you deserve.

This night, he held you in his arms till the moment you fell asleep, not willing to let you go even after.

🌻Albedo🌻

Both of you sit together near the Statue of the Seven at Windrise! Albedo finally got some time off after finishing his recent research, so he decided to take you out on a date.

It was calm evening.. you looked as Albedo sketched something in his sketchbook, your head on his shoulder.

You'd feel totally relaxed, trying to enjoy the time of bliss you're experiencing right now.

Tap

Tap Tap

Tears fell down on the paper and the second he looked at you, Albedo saw your tired and pained expression.

He'd immediately put down the drawings and wrap his arms around you, gently asking what's wrong.

Being an adventurer really can be tiring sometimes, right?

He'd pat your head and wipe your tears with his thumb, smiling ever so calmly.

"I'm here now.. and I will always be."

He lifted up your chin, forcing you to look into his bright eyes.

You knew he wasn't joking.. You trusted him. You'd whisper a quiet 'thank you' and smile sadly, letting him kiss away every new tear falling down your cheeks.

From that day, even though he had to come back to work after a while, he always made sure that you're not overworking yourself.

Maybe it was a little selfish, but he'd ask Sucrose or Timaeus to check on you from time to time. Of course when he wasn't able to do it himself!

He just wanted to make sure you're doing alright. ♡

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #writing #reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao headcanons #albedo x reader #albedo #albedo headcanons #genshin headcanons #headcanons #comfort

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axoxtxhxh · 3 years

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Pairing: Sub!Daichi x DomFem!Reader Summary: Your husband comes home from work stressed out and you want nothing more than to help him relax. Content: Post-baby body issues, marking, masturbation, penetrative sex, cream pie, teasing, begging, handcuff/rope play, thigh riding, oral (kind of), blindfolding, possibly breeding kink, a bit of a daddy kink 😉, maybe some brat Daichi Word Count: ~ 2,900

A/N: We’ve finally reached the last week of our Please Me series and honestly @millenialfanfictionaddiction and I are so sad! It’s been a fun ride and we hope you guys enjoyed it! Please check out her story Bokuto’s Binding! You can reach it through the Please Me Series Masterlist.

Another late night. The same night you had almost every day. Your life was built on routine. Not even just built on it, but heavily relied upon it. With three children almost all under the age of five, even your free time had to be scheduled. It was nearing eleven o’clock at night and your husband would be home soon and for the first night in a while, you weren’t exhausted.

Knowing you probably smelled like baby vomit and whatever was thrown around the dinner table, you quickly jumped in the shower and threw on the only remotely sexy lingerie you had that still fit with your post-baby body. It happened to be your favorite blue, silk negligée that Daichi bought for you after your first son was born when you struggled to feel pretty in the body that you felt was no longer your own. You had a couple adjustments you would need to make to the room, but for the most part, everything was set.

Just as you were finishing up, you heard the lock click in the front door and you set down your perfume bottle, tiptoeing down the steps to meet Daichi. His back was to you as he locked the door and took off his jacket to hang up. You could tell by the low hang of his shoulders that it was a difficult shift.

“Rough night?” You asked him, sliding your hands around his waist. You felt his body jump slightly and then relax into you.

“Better now.” He smiled, turning to look at you. As soon as he felt the silk negligee under his hands he raised an eyebrow at you. “The kids asleep?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, biting your lip and you grabbed his hands, slowly leading him up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m going to help you relax tonight.”

“I am very okay with that.” He kicked the door closed lightly after you were both in the room and brought his lips to yours. Daichi enjoyed taking the lead and he was honestly really good at it, but if you wanted to be in charge for the night, you were going to have to start off strong.

“Take off your shirt.” You told him in between kisses and reached for his pants, unbuckling them and pushing him to the bed to pull them off.

“What about you?” He asked, watching you pull his underwear off.

“Don’t worry about that.” You kissed him quickly. “Move back.”

He followed what you said, leaning his back against the headboard and you reached into the nightstand to pull out his handcuffs.

“You’ve been stealing my handcuffs?” He laughed, holding his wrists out to you, but you took one hand instead and leaned over him, locking the cuffs to the thicker part of the bedpost when he pulled a chunk of your skin and negligee into his mouth, shaking his head and pretending to growl.

“Ow, stop.” You pushed his mouth away. “Not so rough.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled against you. “Am I going to get a taste of you?”

“If you listen.”

“I’m a great listener.”

“You’re a liar.” You laughed, sitting back on his hips to look at him after locking the second cuff.

“What’s first, my queen?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, slowly lowering his eyes down your body.

“First—” you started, sliding yourself back so you were sitting in between his legs, “—I get my fun.”

You lowered your lips to his thighs. There was a lot you loved about Daichi. He was caring, the most attentive husband, an incredibly loving father, unbelievably considerate, but none of that compared to his thighs. His glorious thighs. Thick, rippling muscle that was spongy and soft to the touch, he had legs like a horse and you loved leaving your mark all over them.

Nothing got you going like a mouthful of his soft skin as you sucked it between your teeth, running your tongue all over it and gently pulling away until it released from your lips with a pop. It has been a while since you both had any time together, so his legs were clean, a blank canvas waiting for your lips.

As soon as you started, it was difficult to stop. Daichi was groaning above you and your hand instinctively moved in between your legs, just as it always did. Unfortunately, Daichi knew this about you and couldn’t fight the temptation. He quickly wrapped his legs around you and you yelped as he lifted you up, bringing your body closer to him.

“Daichi!” You shrieked and he laughed at your surprise, setting you back down. This definitely wasn’t his first time doing this and each time it surprised you just as much as the last.

There was no competing with the strength of Daichi’s thighs. You knew this. The only way he wasn’t going to win was to take him out of the game completely.

“If you keep that up, I’m going to tie your feet too.” You warned, looking up from back in between his legs.

There was no way you weren’t going to be tying his legs. You could see it in his face. The playful look in his eyes was as clear as day and when you relaxed your body, ready to lean forward, he lifted his legs again, trying to trap you in between his thighs.

“Daichi!” You tried not to raise your voice in fear of waking your youngest, but instead whisper-yelled at him and he laughed.

“I’m sorry baby. You know I can’t resist you.” He explained, as if that was a perfect excuse for disregarding what you had just said. You stood up from the bed, acting like you were done playing for the night. “Baby. Baby no, I was kidding. I’m sorry. Really, I’ll listen.”

“Oh, I know you will.” You bent down, reaching under the mattress for the rope you prepared beforehand and tightened it around his ankle. He was confused enough by what you said that he really didn’t noticed what you were doing until it was already done and you made sure both of his feet were secure. When you turned around, Daichi was biting his lip, watching you.

“Looks like you’re calling all the shots tonight.” He smiled, his hips rolling forward slightly, his erection full and stiff, and you were a little surprised at how willingly he was giving you control. “What’s next?”

You smiled and stepped up onto the bed, standing over him. His eyes dropped to your black lace panties under the negligee and he licked his lips, lowering his head to get ready for you to sit on his face.

“Is this what you want?” You asked him, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. Sliding the panties down your legs, you watched him nod, his mouth opening as you squatted down. He frowned, looking confused when you sat on his chest and you laughed before putting the panties over his head, covering his eyes so he couldn’t see.

“Baby.” He grumbled and you backed up to sit in between his legs.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen.”

You sat silently for a little, watching him before you sat on your knees. His cock was bobbing by itself, hoping for anything to rub against it and you smiled as the tip leaked.

You leaned over, just enough that he could brush his hip against your arm and your hand went in between your legs again, drawing slow circles around your clit. It didn’t take long for Daichi to know what you were doing. Your breathing changed and the wet sounds of your fingers running through your folds has his cock twitching.

Your eyes were fluttering closed the closer you got. Your body was hot now, ready for release whenever you wanted it. You slowed down your movements and then quickly sped up, trying to force the orgasm to come faster and you let out a sigh.

“Fuck.” Daichi whispered as he dropped his head back onto the pillow at hearing you moaning. “Does it feel good baby?”

“Mmhmm.” You could barely speak anymore, you were so close.

“Aww come on, you’re not even going to let me taste you.” He whined. Gosh sometimes he was just like a child. Your fourth child. Such a big baby.

“Maybe I’ll let you if you quit complaining.” You went back to working your fingers over yourself, your pace quickly moving back to where it was and you let out a small whimper, your hand moving to grip Daichi’s thigh and squeezing the bulky meat.

You were paying as much attention to him as you could, trying to focus on yourself, but also watch his movements. He didn’t really like being edged, but he could handle some teasing and you knew just how far you needed to go to get him to beg.

“Daichi.” You whispered, the sound of your voice saying his name had his thigh muscles clenching and the silence of the room was starting to fill with the wet sounds of your hands rubbing over your clit.

“Yeah baby?” He licked his lips. His body looked calm on the outside, but you knew better. His legs were restless, feet sliding as much as they could over the sheets, his breaths were getting shallower and you watched as his erection stiffened, growing a little bit more.

“This feels so good.” You moaned and his hands started fighting the handcuffs against the headboard as he groaned.

“Please, baby. Please just let me watch.”

“I’m almost done Daichi.”

“Just use me then. Here… here.” He adjusted how he was sitting as much as he could, which wasn’t much, bending his knee slightly. “Use my thigh. God, I need to feel you.”

“You want me to come on your thigh?”

“Please, God, yes please just come all over my thigh.” He begged, his head falling further back as his hands and feet tried to pull against the restraints. You sat up quickly and climbed over his thigh, setting yourself back down and grinding. “You’re so wet.”

He clenched his jaw, pulling against the cuffs as you grinded down on him. You were almost there. There was a burning pit in your stomach and you had to ignore Daichi under you, squirming to get closer to you and to get you to try and touch him. There was no way you could orgasm with his constant movements so you did your best to block him out. Instead focusing on his thigh and the way it felt as you rubbed over it, your swollen clit in constant contact with his skin.

You whined out, a breathy moan pushing out as you moved faster over his thigh and you heard him become quiet. His voice silenced as he started taking quicker breaths, listening to you. When you finally felt the cord inside you snap, your whole body went stiff, roughly grinding yourself on his thigh as pleasure surged from your core to the rest of your body until you were left shaking and panting over him.

“Please baby, I’m doing my best,” he whispered. “I need to be inside you.”

You looked up at him and back down at his body. Leaning forward just a bit more, you gave one tiny lick up the back of his cock, a lick he wasn’t expecting and he inhaled sharply, whimpering slightly until you made your way up his chest, kissing his collar bone and neck as you lowered yourself onto him.

Daichi let out a loud, satisfied sigh while trying to lightly thrust into you. His feet were tied tightly enough that he couldn’t really get much leverage to lift himself so any and all of the work was going to be done by you and you smiled at the power you had.

“Do you want me to move, baby?” You spoke quietly into his ear.

“Yes. Yes, please.” He nodded, already panting for air and desperate to be fucked. His body was relaxed, calmly letting himself enjoy what you were doing to him. You leaned in to kiss him, his mouth gladly accepting your lips and tongue against his. He moaned as you clenched your pelvic floor muscles around him and smiled into the kiss, wishing he could pull you closer, but only being able to pull lightly against the cuffs.

You smiled as you sat back, watching his upper body jerking forward, his face contorting as he urged his orgasm on.

“Faster…” He moaned. You could see it in his face how close he was. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open, he was limited with how much he could move, but just by his face alone, you could tell he was right there. “Come on baby, faster.”

This was your moment to get what you wanted.

“Call me daddy.” You teased him, running your hands up his chest and he inhaled sharply at the touch.

“What?” He turned his head to you and smiled, thinking he didn’t hear you.

“I said…” You leaned down, whispering in his ear. “Call me daddy.”

“Why do you want me to call you that?”

“I just want to hear it.” You shrugged, your tongue tracing his jawline.

He was definitely thinking about it. He knew he wanted you to move faster, to feel that release that’s been building ever since you tied him up. The wall holding back his orgasm was blazing hot and if you sped up just a tiny bit, his body could break through it.

“Baby, you want me to… to call you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“To call… me… daddy.” You smiled, but he just looked at you, his eyes covered, but you knew where he was trying to look. It wasn’t going the way you wanted so you pouted. “Fine.”

You sat up and slowly started to get off of him and he pulled against the cuffs, trying to lift his hips to stay inside you.

“Wait! Wait!” You stood up fully and any contact his dick had with you was gone as you looked down at him. “Okay, okay! Daddy! Daddy! God, daddy please just fuck me!”

He was fighting against the cuffs as he twisted and turned his body, hoping for any contact with you at all. See, the thing with Daichi was that while he did love sex, he lived for the orgasm. Yes, he enjoyed the other pleasure and intimacy, but he would do anything for that release. Anything.

You smiled and slowly sat yourself back down, lining up and pushing him through your entrance again. The slight squeeze had his head thrown back with a groan.

“Yes baby. Ugh, you’re so perfect. You’re so good.” His body relaxed as you slowly lifted yourself and sank back down, gently rolling your hips as another groan slipped from him.

“Is this what you wanted baby?”

“Yes.” He nodded desperately, his mouth hanging open, eyes still covered with your black lace panties.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy. That’s what I want. Give it to me daddy!”

You bounced yourself harder over him, making sure to roll your hips for him and you could see it in the half of his face that wasn’t covered that he was enjoying it, slowly losing himself. Each time you dropped down, you ground harder into him and he was moaning, his head moving back against the pillow only to lift back up as he fought against the urge to move with you.

“Faster daddy! I’m begging you, please go faster.” He moaned.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You sped up your bouncing and you watched his breathing pick up, his jaw slacking, and his face turning red.

“Thank you. Thank you.” He breathed and let out the sweetest sounding whimper before his body shook and his head fell back. Even with his movements minimized, he still managed to buck his hips forward, his orgasm shooting through his body. His cock was pulsing inside of you as he lost control of himself, the pleasure he’d been waiting for took over his body and every inch of him felt nothing but amazing bliss as his skin tingled under you. With a final grunt, his body relaxed into the bed and he gasped for air.

You leaned forward and tugged your panties away from his head and smiled at him. He had the cutest little grin on his face as he looked at you.

“Uncuff me.”

“I kind of like you like this.” You laughed.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, but you promised me a taste.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Uncuff me. It’s my turn to be in charge.”

“Why are you like this?” You rolled your eyes, reaching over to uncuff his hands from the bed post.

“I can’t resist you.” His lips moved to yours as soon as he was free from being restrained and he sank his face into your neck as his hands roughly massaged your butt. “Let’s make another baby.”

“How are you getting hard again when you literally just came?”

“When has that ever stopped me?” He laughed into your neck as he laid you down on the bed.

.....

taglist: @chaotic-nick @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes @serostapesweat @lovelyzabrak-meadow

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firegoddess96 · 2 years

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Love is blind- Loki

Summary: You join an experiment for Shield Corp’s new dating app. You must see if you can find the one to spend your life with sight unseen. Your heart is set on Loki, but will your differences outweigh your love? Will you stand at the alter and say I DO?

Pairing: Loki X Reader (Plus Size)

Warnings: Talk of grief, Fluff, Eventual smut, Mutual pining, some angst.

Chapter 1:

“Is love blind, can an emotional connection be strong enough to last a lifetime? Over the course of this experiment, we hope to not only find the answer. Over the next 2 weeks the 14 of you in this room will be dating 14 other individuals in another section of the estate but will never see their faces. That is until you find the one you think is your perfect match, get a proposal, AND a yes.” Nick Fury stood imposingly in front of the group of women, while his colleague Maria Hill was giving us a hopeful smile. “Are you ladies ready to meet your potential husbands?” Fury smirked at all of us like a cat does a mouse. And I couldn’t help but question what I had gotten myself into.

Six months ago, I lost my dad. He was my best friend and the person I could always rely on. My mom was devastated, he was her other half. I’ve never seen a connection like theirs anywhere else, they understood everything the other needed without question. They moved as one and finished each other’s sentences, they made it look so effortless. I’ve spent my whole life looking for that connection, my equal who will understand me completely.

In today’s world of “dating” apps where love = dick pics and messy one night stands that end in you being ghosted, my view on love isn’t exactly the standard anymore. It doesn’t help either that most of the guys are superficial pigs who neg woman for their skin color, fashion sense and most commonly, their size. As a size 22, I’m not exactly what most go for. I can’t count the number of comments I’ve received over the years on dates. “Don’t worry, you’ll lose the weight”, “You’d be so pretty if you just ate a salad”, “You looked smaller in your pics, stop fishing using angles.”

Fuck them! My diet is balanced, and I do cardio and strength training. I’m just curvy. Not my fault that they can’t handle all I have to give. I love my body, now I just need to meet the man who can handle all of me. And that’s when I got the ad, an email from the ShieldsDown app, the dating app made by Shield Corp. designed for serious relationships only. I had applied and was pending approval, only to get an invitation to participate in their latest experiment. Why not? Let’s just hope I don’t get my heart broken; a gal can only take so much. I smiled at the screen as I press accept.

Now I’m one in a room of 14 beautiful women, all shapes, sizes, and shades, all awaiting the green light to enter their pods. Some of them seem great, like my roommate Nat, a beautiful red head with a light creamy complexion, she has a slight accent, but I can’t place it. Then there’s Pepper, a gorgeous and very thin woman dressed in designer clothing, such an elegant poise to her. A few others seemed nice enough, a young red head named Wanda, an enchanting woman with mocha skin, a shaved head and serious expression named Okoye, those are just a few that I’ve bonded with. But not everyone is very supportive of the “competition” as some put it. One being a blonde girl next door type named Sharon, her face is pretty, and her hair is a nice style, but her personality is so toxic. I’m already done with her, and we only met 4 hours ago.

A buzzer sounded and the lights by our doors turned green, signaling that our pods were ready for our first dates. I turned to my new friends and looked them each in the eye with a nervous smile. Wanda looked excited, Nat looked bored, and Pepper was so nervous she was wiping her palms on her Gucci pantsuit.

“Good luck ladies” I forced passed the lump in my throat as I opened the door to my future. “Wish me luck Daddy, I think this is it.”

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

“Hello Darling, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” a smooth silky monotone voice greeted me. I couldn’t help the flush rising in my cheek.

God, why did the first one have to be British? I love accents! I can already feel my knees getting weaker. SHIT!! How long has it been since he spoke? Get it together Y/N!

“Y/N, and the gentleman with the delicious accent would be?” I replied, grateful that my voice wasn’t as shaky as my legs.

I heard a deep chuckle from the other side of the wall. “Loki darling, a pleasure.”

Inspecting the room as a distraction, I realized it only contained a large sofa and a coffee table, both facing a wall with a light up blue stained-glass wall with a speaker on each side. I got settled in while I asked him about his room, to which he replied with similar descriptions. After that topic was used up an awkward silence started to creep in.

“Ok, I’ll just say what we are both thinking. This is weird.” I break the tense silence and hear another chuckle. “Admit it, it’s true. I mean we are talking through speakers near a wall to a Stanger, who may or may not be our spouse in one month.”

“It is quite odd, never really thought this would be how I’d find my partner. Or that I’d even get a say.” The last sentence was almost mumbled, as if it was an after thought spoken aloud.

“Wait, so is your family into arranged marriages, is that what I’m hearing?”

“Technically yes, the only exception being that my parents, well adopted parents, chose each other. So, they felt like it was fate that they were paired together.” His voice sounded so wistful when he spoke about them, you couldn’t help but pick up on certain things.

“You lost them.” It wasn’t a question, he spoke about them with a love and sadness that you understood completely, the same way you sounded when you talked about your dad. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a stunned pause, “How?” he questioned. “You too.” In that moment he felt at ease, someone else understood his pain. They didn’t pity him for his loss, they just felt a shared pain of their own.

“Yeah, my dad. He passed back in July.” The tears were falling silently down your face. You laughed the pain away. “And this is why I suck at dating! First 5 minutes and I’m talking about death. So romantic.” He laughs with you, “I think the blame for this interesting turn of conversation rests on both of us Darling, not just you. And as far as death, I’ve delt with my fair share of loss. When opening up to someone it’s inevitable that the topic with take a grim turn at some point. I rather like that we got it out of the way early on.” I could almost feel his warm smile as he spoke to me.

Over the next hour we stayed on lighter topics, do we have any siblings, our favorite subjects from school, and even most played song this year. Loki has one brother and one sister, both his father’s biological children, but the oldest, Hela, was from a previous marriage. Loki’s favorite subjects were English, theatre and music, very unsurprising as he seems highly educated and elegant in his speech. His most played song, however, was very surprising. Hank Williams’ Hey Good Lookin, which I got a rendition of as proof. He even makes my southern accent sound sexy, damn.

We were interrupted by the buzzer and red light near our separate exits. I let out an involuntary sigh, my disappointment evident.

“I don’t want to leave either Darling, but rest assured you will be hearing from me again. Very soon.” Loki smiled at the glass on his side.

A smile light up my face, “If we must. I fear I may be bored until then Loki, so try to make it quick.” Our light banter coming naturally as if we had known each other for years instead of minutes.”

“Until then darling.” He heard the click of her door closing and with that sound his heart sealing on her. His Y/N, she was the one. He just knew it. Mother help him, is this how Odin felt when he met Frigga? If so, he understood why his father made the nine realms bow to him to keep her safe. He would do anything for this witty, energetic, and enchanting woman, and he had yet to even see her face.

#avengers x reader #avengers x plus-size! reader #Loki x reader #loki x plus size reader #smut

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