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#then continue telling yourself that's what these words from a language you don't speak mean
arabian-batboy · 6 months
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I really find it interesting how Zionists have no issues constantly using words like "Islamic" or "Islamist" or "jihadist" to describe the people they're killing without any fear of being accused of Islamophobia or that they're being bigots.
Because they know that we live in a world where anything or anyone remotely "Muslim" are automatically portrayed as inherently evil and deserving of death, especially in the US and other Western countries where Israel gets most of its support from them. So therefore, no one can be mad at them for killing all of these people, right? After all, they're only killing scary radical "Islamists" and "jihadists," NOT innocent people.
Meanwhile you would never hear any pro-Palestine people calling IDF soldiers "Jewists" or "Jewish extremists," even when they're literally branding the star of David onto Palestinians' faces and houses, instead we have to be very careful to not associate Judaism with Israel's crimes and are obligated to write a long essay about how we in fact do NOT want to kill every Jew in the world before we're allowed to show a shred of sympathy toward the thousands of Palestinian civilians being murdered as we are speaking.
Yet somehow that's not enough and they still hit us with the "when you say Zionists you actually mean Jews!" all while ignoring how they themselves aren't putting any effort into not demonizing Islam and Muslims with their words, because demonizing Islam and Muslims isn't an issue to them and the only way they can justify all the killing they're doing.
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ginnsbaker · 9 months
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Bulletproof
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Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
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vagabond-umlaut · 6 months
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gesundheit
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you deem gojo to be the most stubborn nurse you've ever seen. you suppose you're the most stubborn patient gojo's ever seen.
but what you don't know is you both are the most caring, and the most idiotic, couple of best friends [or perhaps... something else] anyone's ever seen.
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▸ student! gojo satoru x student! gn! reader; sickfic; mentions of flu & the medicines treating it [i wish i could include their composition too but no :(((]; a brief appearance of yummy chicken soup; gallons & gallons of tooth-rotting fluff; one sexual innuendo; ETERNALLY PINING 'TORU & ETERNALLY OBLIVIOUS SHORTIE ARE BACK!! :D
▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!
▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
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obdurate, obstinate, bull-headed, pig-headed—
you reckon there's no word in the lexicon of any language, from any corner of this world, that can adequately describe the boy crouched before you.
furrowed brows barely visible from behind the unkempt white bangs, gojo shoots you a woefully concerned look, so much so that it makes you wanna smack it right off his face– and says, "your temperature is still above 100, shortie. you sure you took all the medications right on time?"
"i did," you grit out through clenched teeth and a hoarse throat before a fit of cough racks through your warm body, making you clutch onto your blankets for dear life while the airways fight to expel the irritants into the tissue you've pressed over the lower two-thirds of your face—
a painful battle which continues for a good portion of a minute or two before ending– temporarily— you toss the tissue into the overflowing trash can few feet away and return to glaring at your best friend, with a very exhausted, very frustrated sigh.
gojo's shades glint back innocently in the low light of the television as the boy dutifully places the thermometer in its box then moves to put the lids back on the tupperware he brought you dinner in.
you sigh yet again, wrapping the blankets tighter round yourself.
"sometimes, i wonder if you ever learnt to read, y'know?" you mumble in a soft voice, yet its tone mad enough to make him flinch as he rises from the carpet– having cleared the center table of the remainders of the chicken soup haibara made for you– only to cover it a tiny second later with anti-pyretics, cough syrups, nasal decongestants, inhalers-
gasp of shock worsening into a scratchy cough, you wheeze out, "did you really not read my messages, 'toru? i asked u to leave my soup at the doorstep but you warped right to the centre of my living room— i also asked you not to buy any medicine for me, i already bought them today, but- but- you literally bought the entire medicine shop for me!"
"yeah. and?" the white-haired boy retorts, short and sweet with that eye-crinkling beam of his– one he knows never not works on you, "it isn't like i don't have the means to afford it. and as for your orders via the messages..."
he trails off, shooting you a wink as he moves to plop down near your feet on the sofa and drawls, "i've always been a brat. why don't ya put me back in my place, huh?"
in his place... don't tell me this idiot's speaking of...
"is that supposed to be a bdsm thing, satoru?" you inquire, genuinely confused. concerned. "and you should raise your standards, y'know? thinking a person sick and dying from a flu to be attractive enough to apply a pick-up line on them; i hone– hey, no, why the fuck are you—"
"scoot. over."
neither gojo's stony tone nor his pinched features brook any room for you to disagree, yet you decide not to be held back by such, legs and arms struggling to free themselves from the blanket to push the way too tall figure squeezing you into the sofa as he lies down beside you.
not even a moment passes before your blankets are rudely ripped off your body, then dumped on the floor beneath. swallowing back a sigh of relief– the fan feels so good!– you muster a glower to shoot at your best friend.
earning an eyeroll and a huff, you know are fond, in reply.
"the paracetamol will be kicking in soon, and you'll start sweating like hell then," the boy explains, plucking his shades off and placing them on the table beside, "and that sweat needs to get evaporated asap for your fever to reduce asap— which won't happen if you stay swaddled in your blankets. didn't ya know that, shortie?"
your fever-stricken mind didn't until now, but you decide not to voice the fact out loud, just to not appease the smug grin on that bastard's face.
instead, you retort, "but don't you know staying in close contact with a sick person, taking no preacutions, can make you fall ill too?"
"nah!" gojo shoves your concern away with a dismissive shake of his head, "i'm not one of the strongest duo for nothing, you know? them weakass flu viruses can do nothing to me."
then adds, swiping a calloused palm over the skin of your forehead— cracking a smile, you realize, is 'cause he finds it sweating, "moreover, you're sick, shortie— you don't think i'm gonna leave you to take care of yourself, all alone with no one to help, do you?"
you don't.
of course, you don't, knowing who your dearest friend is— a very very stubborn boy, a store of immense power, but most importantly— the holder of a heart made from the purest of pure gold...
a half-hearted ugh is the only response you decide to grace his query with, not really minding when the boy ruffles your hair and pulling the thinnest of the blankets over you both, shifts so that he is now on his side with an arm tucked under his head, while you remain squished in between him and the sofa, face nearly pressing into his shirt-covered chest.
allowing a beat to pass, you peer up at him, mumbling tiredly.
"but why are you sleeping with me here, 'toru? go to one of the rooms and sleep in them. your legs will hurt a lot tomorrow, if you keep them dangling like that."
"let them," gojo smiles, wrapping a loose arm round your midsection, "it's more important for me to stay close to you to know when you're feeling sick and when you're not- or do you wanna make me sleep on the floor? i can do that for you."
"i am not saying this for me, 'toru," you grumble, inching closer to him despite your brain barking opposite instructions at you, "it's for you– i move a lot when i'm asleep. you won't get even a wink of sleep."
your best friend's lips lift knowingly. "why do you think i trapped you like this, hm?"
your zeal to dissuade him, itself fades a little. still, you persist, "i also tend to mumble in my sleep. won't you find that creepy?"
"nothing's creepy if it's in your sweet voice," he answers with a very... uncanny smile then rushes to add with a visibly exhausted sigh when you shoot him a frown, "i've got earplugs in my bag. i'll use them if it's too unbearable for me."
"tch!"
the battle of talking him out of this seemingly- definitely lost, you tsk and move to shut your eyes, finally letting your ailing body to listen to the call of sleep— before your eyes fly open again— a brand new idea whirring to life in your mind.
"but what if i start sneezing, or worse, coughing in the middle of the night? what are you go—"
"shut up," gojo shushes you, pressing your face into his shirt by a firm hold on the back of your head. you make a yelp of protest but it goes ignored by him as he continues, voice dropping to a pleasant rumble.
"and in case you start sneezing or coughing, i'm gonna wake up and take care of you and will stay awake till you're perfectly okay and fine— is that clear to you, shortie? taking care of you is only why i'm here tonight— why else would i bother myself with a snot-nosed person?"
his remark makes your fingers want to pinch his sides hard– but you stop them— choosing to let them draw nonsensical designs over his back, instead. a barely-there shiver passes through his body, you feel it, the same moment he removes his hand from the back of your hair to keep it in between your shoulder blades, lightly pressing, loosening the knots there.
yawning a little, you nuzzle into him at the comfort his action gives, then blink a pair of bleary eyes up at him, "do you know how much i adore you?"
curiosity and delight dimple his cheeks in a smile, clear as day for you to see. he asks, "you do?"
"mmhm," you don't waste even an instant in humming your assent, the relief brought by the medicines and gojo making you slowly fall into the grasp of slumber, "i really do. you're very very very precious to me and i adore you so much, 'toru. you're the best."
"i'm very happy to know that," the boy murmurs in a tone way too soft for him, but your slowly ebbing consciouness doesn't let you dwell on it for long— a smile shaping your lips at his next words, "and i too love you very much. i lo-"
he stops abruptly, making you frown up at him, worried— only to find him wearing a bright grin on his face. something tells you he is hiding something— his eyes are too nervous for a bragging person as him...
deciding not to pay it any attention, you pucker your lips into a pout.
"heyyy," you whine, "finish your sentence, 'toru!!! you can't leave your darling best friend hanging like thattt!!!"
the tension in his facial muscles reduces a pinch at your demand. the boy's grin widens, glowing even brighter to your tired eyes than those led-like blue eyes of his in the dim lights of the room.
thumbing your cheek lightly, he gives into your urging. "okay, fine— i love my darling shortie the most in this world. so much so that there is no one in this world who can love you as much as i do," he says in a gentle whisper, then adds— face growing that same strange smile as before— "my beloved best friend... now does that make you happy?"
the abrupt change in his tone to an oddly cheery quality as he makes his query is more than enough to give you one hell of a whiplash. you quickly sidestep it– filing the many queries it brings, away to be dealt with on a healthier day.
a brief shiver sending you press yourself closer into his comforting self, you close your eyes and mumble into the fabric of his shirt, "it makes me the happiest... thank you, 'toru. i too love you the most."
a tiny beat passes before you feel a feather-light kiss landing on your hairline— and that's the last thing you notice, before your drowsiness finally claims you, lulling you to a restful sleep in the safe embrace of your dearest 'toru.
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▸ IMPORTANT NOTE: whatever u do, pls don't be as dumb as 'toru or shortie here!! if u r the one suffering from a flu or if u r the one taking care of a person who has flu, pls take the required precautions, and take care of urself and the ppl around u! love u sm!
[as a med student, it literally pained me to write these two being so stupid & careless when dealing with an illness as infectious and irritating like flu... but oh well. anything is possible in fiction, right? 🙃]
▸ masterlist
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coff33notforme · 1 year
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PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE A WALLY DARLING X READER (ROMANTIC) WITH A NON VERBAL READER? NO PRESSURE THO X3
A/n: Yes of course Anon! This was a super cute idea and I really enjoyed writing it!
Disclaimer: Once again this might be inaccurate to the experience of everyone who is non-verbal, I mostly based this off of how my friend who is non-verbal communicates, so if this isn't true for everyone thats why!
Pairing: Wally Darling and Gn Reader (Romantic!)
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When Wally first met you, he was inclined to greet you with an over the top introduction, so when you responded in silence it threw him off
Did you feel overwhelmed by his greeting? Were you uncomfortable? Or maybe just shy?  
But he was snapped out of his thoughts when you you gave a gentle wave, a concerned look on your face 
Wally smiled, letting out a breathy laugh
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m Wally, and you are?” he paused hoping you would say something, but much to his surprise you instead reached into the bag that hang on your hip, pulling out a notepad of some sort before you jotted something down
Before you flipped the notepad around
‘I’m Y/n, it's nice to meet you’
Wally smiled, before he continued, telling you about his friends and neighborhood
Over time Wally will become more comfortable with asking questions about you being non-verbal, he didn’t want to get all up in your face about it the first time he met you of course but since your much closer now, it doesn’t seem inappropriate
If you have any other preferred method of speaking other than writing things down Wally would be happy to help you feel more comfortable using them around other people
Like Sign language, or if you have a tablet that you use to communicate, anything you want  
Even though you don’t speak to Wally using your words, he's become very good at picking up on cues you give him that signal your behavior, as well as reading your body language to know how your feeling 
When you first met your other neighbors, Wally had simply remained quiet, something rare to see from the usually energetic, puppet letting you introduce yourself to them with your notepad. It was clear from their expressions that they were confused
You turned to Wally expecting him to say something, but he simply returned your stare, moving his hands, signaling you to continue
You sighed, flipping the page to jot something else down, then you turned the notebook again
‘Hi, I’m y/n, I’m non-verbal, so I won’t be using my voice to communicate with you, I hope we can all become good friends.’ 
You glanced to Wally nervously, but he offered you a supportive smile, giving you a thumbs up
“That's so cool!” Julie shouted waving her arms enthusiastically, you gave a small smile
“How else do you speak? Do you just write?” Sally quipped curiously
You stepped back a little, feeling overwhelmed by the flood of questions being thrown your way
Until you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder, Wally! 
You completely forgot he was here, he offered you a lazy smile
“Now, we don't want to overwhelm our guest here, do we?” 
Julie and Sally shook their heads, as you gave a meek smile
“Then we'll be on our way for now, see you two later.” he spoke, before turning on his heel walking away with you in hand
You turned to Wally arching an eyebrow at him
“What?” 
You looked to him and then back at your neighbors behind you, you flipped your notebook up, writing something down again before showing it to wally
‘Why didn’t you say anything when we were talking to them?’
Wally gave out a low hum
“Because I know you can talk for yourself, you didn’t need me to say anything for you, and they loved you!” he exclaimed, you felt your cheeks become warm as you smiled
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Feel Free to Drop me some more Welcome home requests!
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reneyorene · 8 months
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OPLA roronoa zoro × fem! reader headcanon
summary: you recruited to the crew by luffy before sanji. it didn't take long for you to get close with him, even closer than with zoro. no one knows that zoro is actually jealous because of that
note: english isn't my first language, so please understand. hope you enjoy!
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
• it's all starts when sanji joined the crew. everyone knows that he is a type of person that easily socialize with others
• sanji does flirt a lot. to all women. and when he join the crew, you and nami are never absent from his flirty words
• meanwhile, you and zoro aren't really that close. he looks like keep a barrier for everyone
• after you got recruited, he is the only person that haven't talk with you unless needed. even nami almost spend every night jist talking with you
• when you guys save nami from arlong and his crew, you just motice something. zoro make some moves that looks like he's protecting you
• of course you can fight, but arlong's crew just really strong
• zoro helps you sometimes especially when one of arlong's crew attack you from the back
• "thanks, zoro" and he just hummed or nod. that's all
• when the fight is over, you and your crew take some rest while sanji made the dinner for you all
• you're standing beside sanji while he's cooking. admiring his skills that you can't even do as a woman
• "you got a real good cooking skills, sanji. probablly you should open your own restaurant like zeff" ypu said
• everyone agree by saying the same thing but one person remain silent, it's zoro. not untill usopp asked him "sanji is a good chef don't you think, zoro?"
• and he just relpy with "he'll be a chef when we come to baratie if that so"
•and after that he just left making everyone confuse except sanji. he seems like know that zoro didn't like him that much
• after reasuring yourself, you decide to follow zoro and talk with him. maybe ask about the reason of his behaviour before
• you found zoro sitting on nojiko's roof. you come closer and asked him if you can join him
• he let you join him by giving a nod
"want to tell me what is wrong with you?" you asked
"there is nothing wrong. just want to have some fresh air here"
"definetly something is wrong with you. i mean, you did not talk a lot like usual, but today it looks like you have something inside your head"
"everyone have someting inside their head"
alright, that's it. maybe he just being himself. nothing to worry. you decide to comeback inside the house but you feel a hand on ypur wrist
"if you don't mind, would you sit here for few minutes more?"
you thought he don't want to share anything or even say a thing, but looks like he did
"okay, i'm gonna asked you again. what is inside your head? what makes you look like you owe someone hundred million berries? is it because of sanji? ypu know he just-"
"you. i don't owe someone hundred millions berries. amd yes, it's him bothering me"
you froze for few moments "me? what is this have to do with me? and how is sanji bothering you"
he sighed before answering your question. it takes some moment for him to talk
"you just being too close each other"
"but we are a team" you answered with confuse tone
"you not that close with me"
zoro's answer startled you a bit "i thought you are keeping a distance"
"i'm not" he asnwer swiftly
there some silence moment before he continue speak "i am sorry for make you think that way"
you chuckle makes him looks towarda you. it's night thankfully, so you can't he he's blushing right now
"it's all clear now, so that's fine.i just don't really get it why i can't being too close with sanji"
"you can. you can be friend with him. but just... don't too close"
"why?" you looked at him back, asking for answer
zoro take a breath before answered "because i'm jealous"
oh.. you didn't expect that answer from him. it's roronoa zoro we're talking about
"you are... jealous?"
"yeah"
again, moment of silence. this time it's longer than before
"i asked usopp. he said that i like you. probably he's right"
you still silent, don't know how to react. actually ypu have talked about this witj nami before. about sometimes, either nami or you caught zoro just starring at you or helping you with anything you do. but you just take it as an act from a teammate, nothing special. but tonight you got an absolute answer
"do you.. like me?"
zoro's question bring you back to the earth, you glanced at him but when you meet his gaze, you try to find other object to look at. your cheek feels like burn, also feels like there's a lot of butterflies inside your stomach
"zoro-"
"you like sanji?"
"no. i mean yes, as a friend. i like you all as my team mate?"
"so it's just a team mate between us?"
you frowned "you expect more?"
"ussop said when i confessed, you'll answer that you like me too right away"
his words got you chuckled
"usopp is wrong then" there's a disappoint tone in his voice
"no, he's not wrong. he's right. i like you too, not just a team mate" you answered with smile
slowly, a smile appeared on his face makes ypu smile even wider
"i think i'll got heart attack, my heart just beating too loud"
you laughed, so does him
"am i cool? i make roronoa zoro nervous"
he chuckle "yeah, you are cool"
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
sorry for the typos and grammar error. i'm not good at writting in english guys
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Text
There is a first time for everything (Osferth x barmaid!Reader)
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synopsis: They say there is a first time for everything, yet never in a milion years would Osferth have thought he would lose that specific first time to someone as gorgeous as you.
warnings: Osferth being teased for being a virgin, basically pwp, p in v, oral m receiving, flirty reader, afab reader
word count: 1.8k
taglist: @hopelesswritergall
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
Dividers by me
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“Are you going to stay a virgin forever, baby monk?” One teased, boisterously handing him a cup of ale, just as you passed to fill up their drinks. Osferth’s eyes landed on you almost immediately to, what you assumed, make sure if you had heard that. Only to visibly come to the conclusion that no delusion in the world could convince him that you hadn´t. His ears were pink and his cheeks burned cherry red. He looked immensely uncomfortable with the teasing, almost like he wants to drown himself in the cup, which gains him a sympathetic look, before you move on to serve the next table. From afar you can still see him take a sip of his drink, trying to appear unbothered by the comments. Just as one of his friends slapped him on the back, causing him to spill some of his drink on his robes. "Monk boy needs to get laid!" he laughed, causing Osferth to further blush and want to die of mortification.
As you pass the table yet again, you give Osferth a small wink and a reassuring smile, though you also make an effort to let your hips sway a bit more than before. You felt yourself weirdly drawn towards his seemingly sweet nature amidst the chaos and depravity of his friends. Osferth felt his face heat up even more, he couldn't help but stare at her ass. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Instead, he just continued to wish his friends would stop embarrassing him in front of you already.
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Later that night, after closing time, Alenna found Osferth sitting alone, nursing yet another mug of ale. She walked over to him and sat down beside him.
"Where did you leave your loud friends, baby monk?" You lean in teasingly with her elbows propped up on your thighs and a lazy smile on your lips.
Osferth looked up at you, he noticed how close you were sitting, and he could feel the warmth of your body close by. He also noticed how your breasts pressed together against your tight blouse, and he couldn't help but feel aroused despite himself.
"They... left." he managed to say between sips of ale. He looked away, feeling his face grow even more crimson. "I think they went to visit some brothel or other... They wanted me to join. Said I needed to get laid or something..." he trailed off, not wanting to continue the sentence.
“Hm, it was hard to miss that." You giggle at the memories of their earlier antics. Then you become calmer. "And what do you want?"
He looked at you, his eyes wide and innocent. He had no idea how to act around someone so beautiful and confident.
"W-what do you mean 'what do I want'?" he asked. He had never been approached like that by a woman before, and he didn't quite know how to handle it.
You chuckle and reach out to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. You lean closer to him, taking note of his scent before speaking softly.
"Desires. You want something don't you?" Your breath is hot against his ear as you whisper the word. "Or maybe you're tired of those loud friends telling you what to do?”
You pause to let the words sink in for a moment then you speak once more. “To ask in more plain language... Do you want to lose your virginity or are you content keeping it? It is all up to you. No one else should make that decision for you."
Silence settles over them. The choice truly is up to him and whatever it would be, she would respect it. Osferth felt his heart race as you spoke softly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to speak.
"I... I don't want to keep it," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. He could feel the stiffness growing between his legs as he thought about losing his virginity.
"Aren´t you sweet?" You coo against his lips, teasing a kiss, before you lets your lips wander down his neck. Never once actually letting them touch his skin. "Just remember, should you ever wish to stop or want me to do something specific just tell me. I want this to be as pleasant for you as it possibly can be."
As you began to tease him with kisses along his neck, you also remove his robes, listening the soft moans. The blond shut his eyes tightly for a moment, he had always been taught that sex was something shameful and dirty, yet he found himself getting harder and craving the touch with each passing second as you undressed him.
When you reveal his cock, he watched as you admired it, your hand moving gently over it. Applying soft pressure to make it leak even more of the pearly precum, which collected at the tip of his member, from your place on the floor between his legs. He felt a surge of pleasure throughout his entire body.
“Is that alright?” you ask in a raspy voice as you feel him shiver.
He nodded silently, unable to find the words to speak. So, he let out a soft moan as Alenna’s hand continued to work magic on his length, driving him closer and closer to release.
"Use your words, baby monk. Tell me what you want." You try to coax an answer out of Osferth. Though it is clearly visible that he is overtaken by the pleasure he had never felt before.
His mind raced as he tried to think of how to express what he wanted but found himself unable to form coherent sentences. All he could manage was a series of incoherent grunts and groans as your hand continued rubbing his cock. The shaft twitched seemingly restlessly in your palm as you move your head down to lick small stripes at his sensitive, flushed tip. Instinctively Osferth´s hand comes to guide your head deeper onto his cock. Slurping and slight gagging sounds fill the room until you eagerly get pulled off him with a desperate whimper.
You know he is close. It is etched into every small muscle and crease of his face and so you let him move you away before you ask. “Where do you want to come?”
"Fuck me... please... fuck me..." He managed to gasp out. “I want to come inside of you.”
And with those words, he surrendered completely to the pleasure of the moment, letting go of any shame or hesitation that he might have felt any remnants of before.
Quickly you move your skirt and any other clothes out of the way and sink down on his lap with his cock buried deep in your tight folds, gasping at how well he filled her out. Osferth´s hands find their way to your breasts, cupping them gently and massaging them as he felt her tightness wrap around his throbbing member. At the same time, you bury your hands in his hair. The pace of your thrusts is barely matched by his desperate strokes, trying to keep up with all the intense sensations. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pleasure, and he didn't want the moment ever to end.
The slight upwards curve of his cock has Osferth´s length rub against that special spot inside with every thrust, making you see stars as you throw your head back in pleasure.
"So good." There is a drawl to your words from the cloud of pleasure that overwhelms your own brain. "Fuck, you can touch me harder. I won't break."
Osferth let out a low groan and complied with her request, increasing the force of his strokes, and gripping her breasts more firmly as he felt her body trembling above him. He could see the pleasure etched onto your face like you were an open book and he found himself feeling incredibly satisfied by bringing you such joy.
"I'm not gonna last much longer..." You mewl, bringing one of your hands down between your thighs to caress your sensitive pearl, heightening the pleasure that made your walls grip his cock even tighter. Osferth felt your approach to orgasm and increased the depth of his thrusts even further, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible before you both released. He watched as your hand worked its magic between your legs, committing the movements and your in pure ecstasy contorted face to memory. When he is sure what to do, the blond gently pushes your hand aside to replace your finger with his thumb, rubbing the same circles into your flesh. As he takes over on rubbing circles into your clit your hands go to hold onto his shoulders to keep from slumping against his chest.
It doesn't take long for your movements to falter under his ministrations, waves of pleasure shaking your body as the knot that had built in your lower stomach snaps. Osferth however continues to fuck into you, chasing his own release, which claims him only moments later. Encouraged by your fluttering walls, rolled back eyes and downright sinful moans.
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As you let out a long, drawn-out moan and cried out in pleasure, Osferth let out a loud groan and came inside of you, filling your womb with his thick seed as he experienced the ultimate pleasure of release for the first time. He felt like he was on fire, every nerve in his body burning with need even after his peak had stopped overwhelming him.
You stay in Osferth´s lap until the two of you have found your breath again and his cock has softened inside of you. Only then, you stand up to go clean up.
"How was that for a first time?” You ask him with another lazy smile and hazy eyes that glow in the light of your previous orgasm as you fix his messy hair with gentle touches and clean his cock with a damp towel. Osferth looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion, his member still throbbing under the gentle, lukewarm towel. He nodded in response to your question, unable to speak for the moment due to lack of breath.
"I do not feel like I've done justice to how amazing you felt around me." He answers once he regains his mind, a weak grin grazing his lips.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. A bell like giggle escapes you at his statement.
"Well, you could always come back tomorrow..." You invite him in a sultry tone, eyes falling half close to give an equally seductive look.
The next day you hear his friends before they even enter the tavern. Smiling to yourself as you go to greet them and take their orders of assumingly more ale, it becomes more clear that they remained unaware as to what happened to their friend after they left the prior night. So, Alenna gives Osferth a wink and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. "I cannot wait to see you again later. I had a lot of fun last night..."
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milomi · 2 years
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Reader gets angry during an argument with Crowley and starts swearing in their native language
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People my age swear. People at school swear. People swear. My people swear.
It's been rubbing off on me and for every time I stub my toe on the side of the table and say "fudge! Shoot! Crap! Darn it! " there is a 20% chance I'll instead say **** in my language
but i dont like swearing but also it's... kinda, cool
Also these may be veryyy OOC because it is my first time writing a post with them like this 👉👈
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Riddle
Letting your emotions take hold of you can make you act in a way you'll regret later. -Overblot flashbacks-
However. Once he realizes/is informed of what you've been saying, his eyes widen.
Being angry and/or frustrated does not mean you are allowed to use such vulgar language!
says the guy who nearly beheads people
Definitely scolds you for it. But afterwards, he invites you for some tea to try and calm you down.
Trey
Can't tell what words you're saying or language you're speaking, but you certainly look pissed.
As soon as he realizes that the words you're saying aren't just any type of words in your language, but particularly swear words, he waltzes in to try and stop you.
Stands in the middle of you and Crowley (not a good decision) and tries to calm down the Prefect who's throwing more bleeps by the second
Trey tries, tries to bake something with you to take your mind of things. He says he wouldn't mind hearing more of your native language, in a different setting, that is. Don't swear kids
Cater
Starts recording. He hypes you up even if he isn't entirely sure what your words mean.
Adds some heart emojis on the video and like, idk:
" Look at our little prefect go (off)! 😍🔥 #stanTheprefect #cantunderstandawordtheyresaying #stillsupportivetho! 🤪👍 "
" Bestiee, what did you say? Spill the tea, please~ "
" I cussed. "
" O. Well it didn't sound all that aggressive with you saying it. "
Ace
Hell. Yeah.
He may not understand what you're saying. But he can tell you're real angry. And that means shit's 'bout to go down.
He was right.
Kinda laughs, some of your words sound a bit silly, ya know?
He's never heard someone sound so pretty when cussing out their headmaster.
Man has fucking heart eyes 💀 while you continue to spout some very colorful words, he admires you and sighs lovingly
Deuce
Heck. No.
Hey may not understand what you're saying, but by the looks of your furious red face, that'd put Riddle's to shame, he can tell it's no good.
The art of cussing is universal
Will come up to you and try to stop you.
Man is strong, he will hold you back if needed.
Look he's just worried, okay? You can't just- show the middle finger to your headmaster, verbally, thinking no one will notice.
Leona
He lazily opens one eye, thinking whatever type of fiasco could've interrupted his nap.
The Prefect is dropping an f-bomb (in their native language) at the Headmage
Suddenly he's not sleeping.
Man he's gotta see this. This is like a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Doesn't say anything to you but low key grins the next time he sees you. You've just earned yourself some more respect from him.
I mean, what you did sorta counts as standing up for yourself. ..Not in the best way, sure, but still
Ruggie
??? he is confused
Before it all clicks
o h
Fu-hell yeah, bring in the popcorn, this is gonna be fun, shi shi shi ~
Compliments you on your dictionary of words.
Does he know what you were saying? No, but is it important? All he needs to know is that your language has some nice words in it
Jack
No
Why do you all always get yourselves in trouble? This, this is why. If it's not Ace and Deuce or Grim breaking something and just in general being up to no good. Then it's you using profanity in your language.
Just because it's your mother language, which supposedly no one else / most people don't speak, doesn't make it any more okay!
It's still bad.
Tells you to not do it again.
Feel free to say random things in your language to him, just not, that
Azul
Oh, my.
Is shocked.
He didn't expect you of all people to start cussing all of a sudden??
Sure, you may have had your reasons for it, but still????
It's a questionable experience which leaves him sorta avoiding you till the end of the day.
Then he's back again normal tomorrow trying to get you to sign a contract with him, as if nothing happened.
He just won't address your outburst of emotion
Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss
Jade
Well isn't that strange and unusual.
The normally happy-go-lucky Prefect knows some choice words and decided to use them on our dear, poor Headmage.
Fascinating
can the octavinelle trio use this as blackmail? no
will they anyway? yea
Floyd
lol
Laughs
He's just here for the drama
Picks up on one word. One. Singular particular word and will not stop saying it.
Do not tell him what it means, because he will use it even more often.
But doesn't use it on you ofc <3 little shrimpy, after all, is the one who gifted him with this knowledge
He sure is looking forward to more of your outbursts and learning experiences of fucks and shits in different languages
Kalim
. Huh
Can't tell what you're saying, yet, but you sure do look distressed! Before he gets the chance to discover what you're saying, someone else does it before him and covers his ears.
(That someone being Jamil of course
Kalim understands you must've felt really distressed to have used that type of language and so he later invites you to chillax at Scarabia's dorm.
Jamil
sighs deeply
It doesn't take a genius to discover that a furious teenager shouting words in a different language at a person they've been annoyed by, is most likely swearing.
Covers Kalim's ears, as stated previously.
The last thing he'd need is one for those words getting stuck in Kalim's brain and him repeating it over / look at Floyd's case
One time, one day however, he finds himself in a situation where he very accidentally uses one of the words you said. He didn't even think he'd remember it. Then his brain lags
Vil
Oh noo
You are- why. Why would you do that.
Yes, he could tell you were swearing, anyone with a brain could tell that, potato.
And, no, he does not need nor would he want to know what words came out of your mouth.
If you were in his dorm he'd tell you to wash your mouth with soap. But you're not. But he will tell you to wash your mouth.
Honestly, the next time you're feeling so stressed, maybe come to him instead? He has some face masks and other things that would help make you feel better.
Anger harms beauty, or something, this sounds better in my language
Rook
qu'elle
Alternatively~
que diable
Nono he wouldn't say that, non.
And neither should you, chére Prefect!
For such crude words to come out of your mouth, oh it is so cruelle!
Can and will hold you back down to make you stop, while also whispering thingies in French to make you calm.
Epel
Oh. Oh!
Fuck yeah!
He is cheering for you until Vil catches him doing so and glares at Epel.
He is still cheering but in spirit. As if the huge apparent grin on his face wasn't telling enough.
Afterwards, he says you looked cool badass and asks if you can teach him a few of those oh so nice words.
Let's hope Vil doesn't catch you or Epel saying anything of that sort ever, again.
Idia
Well he wasn't there, buuut he may have seen this situation from some camera footage.
Whaat, it was an important moment. Plus, you looked pretty cool in that situation!
Idia pulls up a translator and once he understands what you were saying, he spits out whatever candy he was gobbling down like popcorn.
Almost chokes.
Holy.. Can't believe you had the balls to do that.. That's awesome. Reckless. But awesome...
Ortho
You cover his ears.
Malleus
Ch-child of man?? Calm down??
He doesn't understand what you're saying to a T, but, he is able to comprehend some of what you said.
Isn't sure whether Crowley knows what you're saying, so he takes you and storms away.
Tells you to be careful with throwing around words like that. Also expresses his interest in your mother language.
But now you will have to suffer consequences for your reckless actions, get ready for 2 or more hours of Gargoyle knowledge!
Lilia
Oh? You don't say? Uh-huh... Interesting
What. Did you really think you were the only person on campus who could speak this beautiful language? No.
he fuckj, flipping joins in as if it were a normal conversation.
Crowley leaves at this point, kinda scared to even ask
But Lilia tells you to not be so reckless with your language. Next time, swear under your breath, so that it won't bring anyone's attention and-
Silver
I think he was sleeping
* laugh track *
Or trying to fall asleep. When your choice words had woken him up.
He heard Lilia use that language a couple of times, so he was able to pick up on some of the nicer words you said. None of the blasphemy made its way into his ear.
Although wait, maybe he had heard a few of those word when fa-Lilia was playing some games
Sebek
???
he's not really sure what you're saying, but_
N O T IN THE PRESENCE OF THE GREAT MALLEUS DRACONIA
He's actually more angry than Crowley, holy sh-.
Will not want to hear you ever speak that language again. Thank you.
... Okay that was harsh. Maybe he will like to hear it one day. BUT WITHOUT THE BLASPHEMY, OKAY??
Bonus!
Grim
Ya he's used to that
No, doesn't know what yer sayin', but he has his suspicions
If the boys pay him via Tuna Cans he will translate -to the best of abilities- what you said.
Better pay up! Less you wanna miss out on the hot gossip and drama 'bout our not so innocent Prefect!
Crowley
He doesn't understand what you're saying
? can you not ?
He was kind of in the middle of something, now he's in the middle of your toddler tantrum
He knows
inhale
" YOUNG CHILD, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY I WILL LET YOU KNOW [proceeds to speak the rest of the lecture in your language] "
You are fucked
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hotxcheeto · 2 years
Note
Hey! Can you pls do Ellie x fem!reader smut where ellie and reader are best friends yet and ellie becomes jealous (cause reader was ironically flirting with a guy) and gets drunk and becomes super confident. And for punishments there will be spankings alot, and if you want so you can add strap-on too, and alot dirty talking.
Sorry this is my first time requesting someone about something online so sorry if it was wierd😭
━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader 
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, kissing, alcohol, SMUT, vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), vaginal oral sex ( r! receiving ), vaginal strap on use ( r! receiving ), mentions of saliva, sweat, rough sex, not a ton of aftercare, lowkey mean! ellie, best friends to lovers, dom!ellie, sub!reader, drunk sex, light choking, cum eating?, mentions of cum, mentions of bruises, half assed fight between reader and ellie ?, very happy ending
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - WHOA this took me so fucking long to write, it is also very long like ellies di–, but I'm proud of it so fucking much, ily you anon and if you want a peak into why IT TOOK SO FUCKING LONG check out my end author's note :)))) ily anon <3
REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED - I KNOW WHO YOU ARE :)
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"Stop acting so awkward."
Ellie scoffed at this, watching you replace her hands on your hips. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you then smiled.
"See? Not so bad." "Speak for yourself." She smirked down at you when you pouted, even lightly chuckling at your expression.
"Fine, I'll find a hot guy to dance with." You couldn't leave though, realizing that after trying to pull away, her grip on you too tight to even make a move to walk off.
"Yeah, not a chance. The song will be over by then." She shrugged it off though you could see right through those green eyes of hers.
"Huh, good point. But there will be other songs?" You were somewhat tipsy, feeling on cloud nine, and Ellie could very much tell. Finding it both endearing and adorable.
"Not as good as this one." "What about that one song we listen to all the time?" Ellie shook her head, swinging around as you giggled. "That's our song, no way am I letting some fucker make it his." You nodded, drunkenly agreeing with her, so much it made her chuckle.
"Agree."
Ellie continued dancing with you in silence, watching you look around for a few seconds and then back to her. Admiring her face with a calm expression on your own.
"You're really pretty." You then whispered, messing with the ends of her hair that she wore half up. "Thanks." Ellie whispered, hearing you laugh in response. "You're so awkward.. it's cute."
The song ended as you spoke, pulling back from her and holding her shoulders.
"I'm gonna get some water." You then said quietly, patting her upper arm before nodding. "Okay–"
She barely got another word out before you walked your way to the bar, leaning against it with a mission in mind.
"Just water please." You mumbled, Seth seeming to understand while you rested yourself on the bartop.
"Hey there." You turned your head, a guy standing beside you obviously drunk and with a gross smile on his face. "Hi, weirdo."
The filter on your words was gone, resting your chin on your palm while grabbing the water from Seth.
"Aw, that's not nice princess." You rolled your eyes, taking a gulp of the liquid. "Well I'm not a nice princess." The slur in your words was much more obvious then you meant it.
Fully aware of what was happening, yet you didn't seem to care.
"I can see that. Good thing I like princesses who don't like to listen." You grimaced internally and your face cringed, taking another drink. "Well aren't you prince charming." You said sarcastically, batting your eyes at the man who clearly couldn't read tone nor body language.
Or maybe he was too drunk to care.
"I can be, especially behind closed and locked doors." You laughed at this, slowly finding it more funny by the minute. "Well, with three inchest you have to be." You winked at him, drinking the last of the water while the guy gathered in his mind what you'd say.
His smile slowly falling while you began to look around for Ellie. Missing her presence until you seen her standing a little ways down the bar, sulking and chugging down a drink that you were sure wasn't water. Her eyes locking with your own.
"C'mon, trust me, it's a lot bigger than that." "I'll take your word for it." You nodded, waving over Seth for more water. "What, are you like.. into girls?" "If I was, wouldn't make a difference." You shrugged, his eyebrow raising.
"Why not?" "Well, handsome, your personality is awful. You weren't making me feel anything but uncomfortable." He huffed, sitting down on a barstool with his eyebrows furrowed together.
"I didn't mean that, man." "It's okay... at least you have a pretty face." He snorted, his face turning red in just the slightest as he looked away.
"Hey." A hand soon landed its way , the smell of vodka filling your nose as well as the old cologne that you loved of hers. You told her you loved it too, and afterwards you swore she wore it more than ever.
"Hey Ells." She smiled for just a second or two, examining your face as you greeted her. "This is my friend..." You trailed off, looking at him as you set your head on your palm, waiting for him to answer but he seemed focused on you.
"Uh, sorry, Ben." He introduced to the both of you, but his eyes never left yours while you glanced to Ellie. "He was telling me about his bedroom skills, which I'm very impressed by." The sarcasm didn't come off as well as you would've liked, watching Ben's face change at your words into a blushing mess.
"All jokes.." "Aw, don't get shy now that she's here." You winked to him, but when looking back to your best friend her face was completely fallen. Glaring the guy down like he'd personally attacked her with his presence.
The glow of the bar suddenly felt hot, the lights a bit too bright for your liking. Suffocating you where you sat in the warm room, Ellie's hand still on your back where she preferred it.
"Alright Ben, I think we should get going. My best friend here is a bit particular about her bedtime." You slid away from the bar, giving him a grin.
"I'll see you another time." "Ye– yeah." He nodded, waving you off as you wrapped yourself around Ellie's forearm, giggling to yourself as you both walked off.
It was silent for a time being, entering the cold air of the Wyoming night. The wind strong and whipping leaves and trees around like they were nothing but obstacles in its way.
You turned your head, resting your face on Ellie's upper arm as you stared up at her. Obviously pissed off while her eyes stayed straight ahead of you both.
"What's wrong?" "Nothing." She said a bit too quickly, barely looking to you as you both continued on down the road. "No, something. What's got your boxers in a twist?" Ellie huffed, both of you coming up to her little home, Ellie pulling away from you to grab her keys.
"I said it's nothing." "You're such a liar." You smiled, the door being pushed open, Ellie pushing you inside first.
"But since you're so up in arms.." You kicked off your shoes, unzipping the fluffy sweater you thought went perfect with your outfit earlier. Now, in hindsight, was a bit too hot to keep on at the bar.
"...I'll sleep on the couch tonight." You moved to take off your shirt, revealing your thin white tank top underneath, giving away your black bra.
"That way you don't have to look at me." "Who the fuck said that?" Ellie scoffed, looking at you while taking off her own jacket and converse. "Well you wouldn't even shift your pupils to look at a third of me! So I'm sleeping on your uncomfortable ass couch, since you suddenly hate me."
You, turned away from her, unhooking your bra while facing the couch.
Nearly laughing at your own lies coming from your mouth, but drunk Ellie was just too cute to not get flustered. Her cheeks reddening and an astonished look on her face at the fact that you weren't going to sleep beside her.
"You're ridiculous." "Is it because I was talking to that guy?" You turned to her, dropping the garment onto the ground while adjusting your tank top once more. "Are you jealous?"
"Of what?"
"You were already weird about me talking to guys. Boyfriends are temporary Ellie, best friends are forever."
You laughed as you spoke, turning to unbutton your jeans while huffing at her childish behavior.
"You would've ditched me the second he asked to take you home." She sounded both sad and disappointed, like how a kicked puppy would sound as a human. You snorted, looking over your shoulder at her with a glare.
"You're a dick. You know that isn't true, you're just drunk and pissed off." You turned to her as you tugged your jeans down, stepping out of your clothes and grabbing a pair of pajama pants.
"Yeah fucking right, I bet you wanted him." Then there was the anger. You held the pants in your hand, staring at her with an expression that only could be described as offended.
"No, I have other jealous assholes on my mind, but thanks for asking." You turned around, facing away from her while unfolding the pair while looking at the many sketches on her wall above her desk.
Some of you, some of your friends and her horse. Others of things you'd seen before or of her favorite things. Even some of yours.
You didn't even get a chance to put your leg into the pants before her hands found your bare hips. Running over the waistband of your thin white underwear and over your stomach, pushing up your tank top.
"Oh yeah?" You could've stopped breathing at the sound of her low voice right beside your ear, whispering so quiet if she wasn't so close you wouldn't of heard.
So close that you could practically smell the alcoholic stroke of confidence that seemingly dawned on her. Along with the smugness of her posture.
You swallowed roughly, turning your head in just the slightest.
"Yeah, actually. The one that can't dance to save her life, to be specific." You looked down at Ellie's hands over your flesh, messing with the band, and it suddenly hit you.
You felt bare for the first time, despite having stripped in front of her so many times. This was your best friend, yet you shifted nervously, unable to think a coherent thought through the few beats of silence that passed.
You felt, your entire face hot and your body no longer running cold from the outdoors. You were burning, choking on your own throat, feeling her right behind you.
Brushing against your ass with her pelvis, breathing against your neck. She just couldn't help but to take you all in.
A low hum then came from her throat, one of her hands rising from your waist. Over your belly and up to your neck, lightly grabbing your jaw and turning your head to face her.
"But according to her I wanted the fuck little dick Ben."
Your lips just barely hovered over her own, you could feel her breath against your lips.
Taking it in like she was your oxygen, like you needed her to keep living.
"How low do you think of me?" You smiled with false confidence, meeting her glazed out pupils, dilated on your face, her own inching closer with each second.
"I've heard you talk about worse."
"And you're gonna be better?"
Words could only describe her reaction, gripping you roughly, her fingers turning white and your skin erupting in delicious discomfort and pain.
"Someones upset."
Silently she moved, dipping into your panties, knuckles brushing over the formed wet spot making her bite back a smile and your body's eagerness awaiting her.
Then, down she went to your already aching cunt, fluttering against her touch.
Your hand latching to her forearm as she did so, the girl only testing the waters, watching your reaction like it was the last thing she'd ever see. Like a rare flower blooming for once in a million years. Ellie couldn't look away even if she tried.
"We still gonna be friends after this?" You whispered, the pad of her middle finger circling your clit, your chest rising and falling as you took deep breaths.
"No. Far from it." You opened your mouth to speak just as she applied pressure to your sensitive bud. Your legs nearly giving out underneath your weight, a girlish noise passing your lips.
"Oh.. please.." You gripped her arm tighter, creating little crescents in her freckled flesh, a small grumble passing her lips. Something silently inside her wished those marks would stay forever as a reminder of the events that were and were going to occur
"El..."
Something about her nickname passing your lips that made her want to get you withering in her grasp. Something about the damn nickname made her think that for a long time. Or maybe it was because it was you saying it.
"Please.." The grip around your body was strong, still roughly playing with your clit while watching you struggle to stand.
Ellie hated to admit it, and she never would, but the amount of times the thought of you like this had made its way into her mind should've made her feel ashamed. Guilty.
And it did, to look at you. But she lived with it eating her alive.
And now she'd live with the regret of not acting on it sooner.
But now the shame was washing itself away, colliding with your little whines, those thoughts and noises losing the shape of themselves in the stuffy room already filled to the brim with lust and love.
"You feel so good." She muttered, kissing your neck. "Fuck Ellie..." As her pace picked up between your thighs, your entire body fought the urge to squeeze your legs tightly around her hand.
A sudden slap was then landed to your ass causing your entire body to jolt in surprise. A shriek tumbling from your mouth along with a few strangled moans.
"Couch." Was all she said stopping her motions that had you shaking, breathing so heavy you couldn't say a word, sweat lightly coated your flesh and forehead.
You mumbled something disappointedly, Ellie's light laughter filling your ears.
Though ignoring your fallen high, you waltzed over to the area, stripping of your clothing on the way, still holding onto the sliver of control you had.
Slipping out of your underwear and turning around as you pulled off your tiny top, tossing it away to find in the morning, then again she'd probably keep it for another night you'd have a sleepover.
"You should drink more often, it's cute." You said quietly as your thoughts began to catch up with you, sitting down on the couch and pulling your knees to the chest.
Her green eyes trained on you like a predator its prey.
"Yeah.. cute. I'm sure Ben would think you look real fucking cute." She then muttered, alcohol laced between her words, coming over and setting a hand on your bare thigh, trailing down your calf as she lowered herself to her knees.
"Especially like this."
Without hurry, she spread your legs, her gaze finally leaving your face and down to your soaked cunt.
It made you run hotter than you already were, sure you were blushing despite it not being visible. Without realizing you held your breath, like waiting for a dangerous stunt to be done and watching from the sidelines, you were worried.
It had you suddenly insecure, wanting to run away and pretend it never happened. And you guessed the emotions were visible in your eyes, because as soon as she looked at you again, she leaned in.
Pressing a light kiss to your inner thigh, then another, before suddenly spanking you once more. Your entire body shuddering as you breathed, feeling her rubbing over the sore skin.
"Stop looking at me like you're scared of me." You relaxed, focusing on her thumb rubbing circles on your ass. "Sorry." You whispered.
"Please just fuck me already." And it seemed like those words were all that she wanted to hear. That she had been silently begging to hear for so long, dreaming of it even, both literally and figuratively.
And just like that, she leaned it, taking a long lick up your cunt.
You choked completely, head falling backwards and mouth going agape.
"Oh my fuck–" You picked your head up, meeting her green eyes with your own, stomach heaving as you tried to catch your lungs up with the rest of your body.
"Fuck that feels so good–" Her tongue swirled around your clit, a sound admitting from her lips when you dragged your nails through the front of her hair and along her scalp.
It gave you a better view of her face, the vibration from her mouth sending goosebumps up your spine.
"Fuck you look so pretty–" You huffed, pushing her hair off her neck.
Her tongue moved in and out of you before she moved back up to your clit, sucking it harshly while her fingers made her way to your hole.
"Ellie.. fuck!" Your head fell back once more, digging into Ellie's scalp at the same time her fingers sunk into your cunt making you whimper in return.
"I wonder if Ben's thinking about me right now.." You teased through your huffs, chest falling and rising while you played with her hair. Her digits moving in and out at an agonizing pace.
"Y'know he wasn't half bad, terrible flirting though.." "Y/n... I'm telling you now, shut up." You pouted, squirming as she picked up her face, little whines leaving your throat.
"Fuck.." You breathed,
"..kind of wish he asked a girl for a drink though."
With that Ellie pulled away, grabbing your face with her other hand.
"You want something in your mouth?" You grinned up at her, not getting the chance to say a word before her fingers invaded your face, tongue running along each limb on instinct.
"You like how you taste?" Lightly, you grabbed her wrist while moving to sit on your knees, pulling her hand from your mouth.
"Are you gonna fuck me now.. I'm bored." Her hand then pushed passed the both of yours, gripping your throat forcing you to tilt your head up.
"Lay down, you fucking brat." She smiled down at you, her tone playful yet serious. "Make me."
Ellie reached down, peeling off her shirt revealing her sports bra to you. then moving down to her jeans.
"Fuck, you're such a dick." You smiled, moving into help unbutton her pants, the girl smashing her lips on yours for the first time the entire night.
"Fuck you taste good." She mumbled, slowly pushing you backwards as you unzipped her bottoms. "I don't want you talking to that asshole anymore." She then slurred, shoving you back onto the cushions while kicking off her pants.
"Is that so?" "Turn over you–" "You what?" You smirked as she flipped you over onto your belly, hand caressing your ass for a mere second before pain erupted through your flesh. A loud 'smack' filling the room.
"Sorry, it's just so tempting." She muttered, coming up beside your head and kissing your neck, biting at anything she could get her mouth on causing groans of pleasure to surpass your mouth.
Her entire body leaned against your own, it was heavy yet perfect like she could lay there forever, and you wouldn't have a care in the word.
Perfectly laid against you, like she was made for it.
"Oh my God just fuck me already." "Strap?" You felt her palm run over your sore skin, kissing you soft behind the ear. "Mhm, please." "There are your manners." She patted your butt, as if she was proud of you before sitting up.
"You keep your strap, under the couch?"
"Better than it falling out of my closet in front of Joel while I look for something so fucking specific that he's asking about."
You snorted, trying to ignore the sensation of one of her fingers teasing your aching hole. Keeping you on edge as she spoke, waiting on you to respond despite the predicament she was slowly tying you in.
"You sound like– like–" Her finger slipped in, a gasp sounding from your lips, turning your head a bit to look over your shoulder.
"What?" "Like it's happened before." You finished, pushing your body towards her hand making her completely pull away from you.
A low noise of disappointment coinciding with a pout on your face. Your patience wearing thin, but you weren't planning on going anywhere, far too needy now.
"Don't be greedy." "M'sorry."
It wasn't long after that you felt the silicone head of her fake cock press against your clit, your breath hitching in your throat. You forced yourself not to move, silently pleading with her to fuck you without a word coming out, because god you wanted her dick and you weren't gonna upset her again.
Not on purpose anyway. But Ellie just found you so adorable to tease.
"What's the magic word?" A line she'd said to you so many times in much more platonic meanings then this. All of those situations popping back into your head as you whispered,
"please."
"Good girl."
Then she pushed herself inside of you, your mouth falling agape while your head fell forward squishing your cheek into the cushion of the couch.
Ellie wasting no time, beginning to move her hips, finding a fluid motion within her first few strokes. Her body discovering a perfect pace that had you reaching back for her.
Loud girly whines and moans like music to your partners ears, a smirk on Ellie's face as she stared at the side of your own. All beautiful and laid down just for her to fuck, hand trying to grab her own.
"Y/n... fuck you look so pretty." You felt like every nerve was on fire, Ellie fucking herself into you, running against your walls with each thrust. The hand not holding your own reaching in just the slightest, harshly pressing your swollen clit.
"Oh fuck.." You muttered, tearing your hand away from Ellie's, gripping the couch as Ellie picked up her pace faster then you could comprehend.
"Oh m– my fu–fuck Ell–ie–ie–" It had been so long and she was so intoxicating, her cologne being the only thing you could smell, the faint light of her bedroom swallowing you whole.
You felt drunk, drunker than you already were, your mind fuzzy and invaded by thoughts of Ellie's strap.
"That feel good babe?" "M–mhm–m–" You nodded quickly, her fingers circling your clit again and again, and you couldn't get enough.
Squirming as she pounded into you, fingers digging deep into your hips sure to leave bruises sure to be admirable in the morning.
Your stomach began to tighten, it becoming harder to breath as your release edged closer.
"You think Ben could've fucked you like this?" You nearly didn't catch her words, muttering something out in a babbled response.
"Answer me Y/n." You tried your hardest to collect your words, picking them up like a basket of apples that fell out all over the floor. Scraping them while shaking your head.
"N–no he– couldn't–" She smiled even wider, looking over her marks on your ass and hips, watching you shake as her fingers danced around your abused bud.
"You gonna come? Hm?" "Y–yeah–" She laughed, leaning over your body once more, her pace becoming agonizingly slow. Her lips beside your ear, but her fingers never stopped making you cry out as she kissed your neck.
"Go on..." Your eyes shifted along with your head, meeting her eyes through your blurry ones. Mouth hanging wide but no noises were coming out, legs shaking as you came around her silicone dick and fingers.
Ellie's lips landing on your own as you practically screamed, all mof it swallowed up by her, fingers never stopping despite your squirms and movements to get away from her.
"To–oo– much–" You shook your head, her forehead pressed against your own, the girl only laughing. Kissing the tip of your nose. "M'not done babe." You shivered at the tone of her voice, so sweet and calm, as if she was comforting you.
Yet there was this underlying excitement, dominance, the girl so eager to make you come undone again.
She paused, only for a moment, sitting up again, the silicone strap snug deep in your pussy as she allowed you to calm yourself. But only for a moment.
"Don't tell me you're tapping out now?" "M'not." You mumbled, wiping your mouth as Ellie jerked her hips. A little 'oh' sound filling her ears.
"Fine then."
Gripping your hips she slammed you back into her, a thump coming from your ass hitting her pelvis. Ellie not paying any mind to your pleas and begs as she fucked into you, watching the fake dick disappear inside of you again and again.
Knowing that it was her.
"El–El–" Tears welled in your eyes once more, leg falling off the couch but it didn't matter how close you were from slumping right off the couch. Ellie's grasp on you was tight and she wasn't letting go, the low noises of her hips driving into your own filling up the room in a flood of pleasure.
Sweat coating your body and tears falling down your face, humming with your mouth slack.
You couldn't feel your thighs, whether it be the alcoholic climax or your lack of sexual activity in months. You didn't know, you only knew her name, you could only think about her and how she was making you feel.
Ellie was the only thing you could think of, and she knew it. A shit-eating grin on her as her fingers played with your clit, lightly hitting it just a few times to get a reaction out of you.
"That feel good? That feel good pretty girl?"
Ellie knew damn well you couldn't speak, she liked it that way, hearing you babble nonsense at her while trying to look over your shoulder.
But you couldn't quite pick your pretty little head up and each time you did, a little slap on your clit brought it right back down. Your cunt filled by her and so was your head, and she loved it. Because you were her best friend, that's how it should be.
Ellie was the only person who could do this, before and now, because she was your best friend and she knew you better than anyone. You would be stupid if you thought differently.
But now you couldn't, fucked dumb on her couch, by her.
"You gonna come Y/n?" "Mhm." You nodded so much your neck hurt, your entire body haven given up on its own strength inside relying on Ellie's hands keeping you snug against her hips.
"Fuck Y/n.. you did so good, huh?" You hummed again while nodding, Ellie biting her lip as she fucked you harder. Deciding to pay special attention to your clit once more, but this time her pace never slowed.
"Come babe... come on my fucking cock."
Ellie's grip on your hips was deliciously painful as you screamed, her hips drilling into your own, body bouncing on the silicone with no mercy to any of your muscles.
Wound and broken as you came, the dick slowing but her fingers not having the same compassion, coating the cock in your juices and the blanket covered couch with your cum.
Then for a few quiet moments, all that could be heard was both of your heavy breaths. Your body slumped against the cushions, drool covering your mouth and sweat shared on both of your limbs.
Your eyes falling heavy despite the uncomfortable position you were now consciously aware of. Legs shaking and body sore, you still just wanted her, like a drug that you needed to be okay.
You only felt her pull out, the emptiness having you left feeling cold, bare as her body was no longer aligned with yours.
Then you were out, darkness enveloping you just as Ellie returned to clean you up.
And when you awoke the next morning you were no longer in any clothes that were yours, nor your own bed or that uncomfortable couch you claimed you were going to sleep on.
You were snuggled against a body, with a familiar scent of cologne lingering in the fabric of the hoodie you'd gotten for her.
Your darling best friend girlfriend.
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a/N: so ANXIETY TW ---- my dad sent me into a panic attack on saturday or this would've been up yesterday but all is fine now we are not on talking terms but I do live with him because I'm young and have no other options :) but it was over transgender rights, and he wants me to apologize because I see trans people as fucking people
yeah kiss my ass I'm not saying sorry because I'm not fucking sorry
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split-spectrum · 2 months
Text
Concessions
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Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader
Warnings/Tags: (more to come) sexually explicit content, explicit language, edging, orgasm denial (like a lot of it - that's the whole fic)
Chapter Length: 3K
Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him.
The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find the exceptions.
☆☆☆
"They call it the Nikkama."
"A full cycle?"
He pauses, taking in your incredulous tone. "Yes. A full Coruscant cycle."
"And you're asking me to... what, participate?" 
He shakes his head. "Of course not. This is simply a... personal matter for me."
You raise a brow even higher than it already was, not saying anything in response. He seems to be on the edge of an explanation, but never quite getting there. Your silence invites him to continue. 
"By the end of a standard year, it is my goal to come away with a new understanding of the Force, and of myself."
"That's very... respectable," you manage. "So, if you need someone as the keeper of this... trial, why not ask a master? Why me?"
His eyes search your face. He's trying to determine if you're toying with him. The truth is, you have an idea of why he wouldn't approach Yoda about this, but you want to hear him say it. 
"I had... rather thought it would be obvious."
So you had guessed correctly. But he won't admit it. 
You smirk; an acquiescence. You won't make him dance around the details any longer. You are friends, after all. Friends who happen to know one another more intimately than most friends do - the real reason he's come to you with this request. 
"Alright. Tell me the rules."
--
No sex. That's the essence of it. 'Seeking bliss through denial', as the ancient Jedi texts stated it. To complete the trial, one must deny themselves the pleasures of the flesh for the time it takes the Jedi temple to finish one full cycle. 
The rules are quite simple: The Jedi must make the trial known to one witness - the keeper. The Jedi can not bring themselves to completion through sex or by any other means. There are allowances, of course. Orgasms beyond the Jedi's control are permitted. This way, one cannot fail the trial while sleeping. Finally, the Jedi must not speak of the trial with anyone aside from the keeper. Like many other trials, it was a battle meant to be fought internally.
If he failed, Obi Wan had explained to you that he could not simply begin again. One was not allowed to attempt the Nikkama for ten more cycles. It was not meant to be taken lightly. Much like everything Obi Wan has ever done, but especially like the things he's been doing lately. 
Since becoming master of the Chosen One, it seems like all he's done is push himself, as if trying to prove he's worthy of the position. Having known him since padawanhood, his capability has always been clear to you. But with his new responsibilities, he seems to be seeking new and creative ways to strain himself. You know nothing you say will be enough to slow him down, so most of the time, you can only offer your begrudging support. 
Three months in to this latest self-imposed trial, you can already tell the strain is starting to wear on him. 
"Anakin, I've told you before," his voice carries over the crowd of padawans on the landing platform as you walk past. "The way we present ourselves is a choice."
"Yes, master," mumbles the boy in front of him, his eyes clearly more focused on the ship he's about to board than his master's words. 
"...and today you've chosen to present yourself to professor Huyang with a wrinkled robe because you did not hang it properly as I asked, did you?"
"Sorry, master." Anakin's words are contrite, but the way he shrugs Obi Wan's arm off his shoulder says this will not be the last conversation they have about it. 
Obi Wan looks around, clearly asking the Force for patience. He squeezes a blink just a little longer than normal, gathering himself, and when he opens his eyes, he catches you watching the display. You press your upper lip down into a poorly-hidden grin and keep walking, using the mug of caf you'd retrieved from the refectory in the temple's main hall to hide your smile.
Once Anakin is sent on his way with the other padawans, Obi Wan strides down the hall to match your pace.
"I saw that," he grouses. He's putting on a half-joking tone, but you can tell there's a current of real irritation running beneath. "You won't find it quite so entertaining when you have a padawan of your own."
You let your grin loose. "That's the beauty of volunteering for the most distant and dangerous missions. They can't keep me at the temple long enough to assign me one."
It's an exaggeration you're putting on for him, but it's partially true - you do tend to volunteer for the most exciting assignments you can find. That's where you and Obi Wan differ the most. Part of you craves adventure in a way that's almost unbecoming of a Jedi. Obi Wan starkly contrasts your eagerness, content with whatever duties he's given. He always has the serene air of a proper Jedi knight about him. And you truly enjoy pushing his buttons until his calm demeanor breaks. 
"You look like you could use one of these," you tell him, changing the subject by pointing to the mug in your hand. 
He looks down at your hand, then glances dejectedly out of one of the windows as you pass it. "Oh, I could use something much stronger than that. If only I had the time. I promised Master Sinube I would help him question some suspects for an investigation this afternoon."
You click your tongue against your teeth. "Poor thing."
"Yes, no rest for the wicked, it seems."
"More like 'no rest for the stubborn'." 
He gives you a look. 
"No rest for the decidedly overbooked," you go on, pushing those lovely buttons of his. 
He sighs, shaking his head in annoyed bemusement and not rising to your bait. 
You turn to face him before your path peels away, dropping your antagonizing grin. "If you're too busy this afternoon, what about this evening? We could meet up in my quarters for 'something stronger' if you'd like. I have a bottle of Alderaanian red that's been gathering dust."
"Hm. Dusty wine; how very tempting," he sniffs, crossing his arms at you. 
You roll your eyes, but he doesn't give you a chance to retort. 
"It's a kind offer, but-"
"But, Anakin is gone for the week and you'd rather be alone in your quarters, falling asleep early?"
"Well, yes, in fact, I would."
You shrug. "Do as you please, then. My charitable offer stands, if you decide you'd rather enjoy yourself than become a hermit at the ripe age of twenty-seven."
You turn down an adjacent hallway, leaving his mood behind you without another thought. 
--
Later that night - very much later, in fact - you had almost forgotten about your offer when a knock at the door to your private quarters reminds you. 
"Obi Wan."
You won't spoil the surprise by gloating, though you sorely want to. You just smile instead, glad to see him despite his dour expression. 
His lifts his eyes tiredly. "Might I request that you hold off on any clever commentary until I have my promised drink?"
Your grin broadens as you step to the side, inviting him in. "You might request it, but my cleverness won't be silenced." 
Passing you, he manages to flick up an eyebrow despite his otherwise muted demeanor. "Oh, dear. If I had known you'd started without me, I'd have-"
"You'd have come sooner?" you finish for him, sweeping up the bottle on your counter and topping off your glass. 
He drapes himself over your couch, sinking into the cushions as he spreads an arm over the side. 
"I may not have come at all. I would have gone to my quarters and gotten some well-deserved-" You hand him a filled glass. "Thank you. Some well-deserved rest." 
He finishes his statement with a long sip, then swirls the glass and closes his eyes, pinching his brow with his other hand. 
You just roll your eyes, nudging his boots to the side and sinking into the couch next to him. "Master Sinube really putting you through your paces, then?"
He sighs through his nose. "Master Sinube is a wonderful teacher in the art of... patience."
Your lip quirks upward. His patience has never been tested before by the kindly old Cosian. And it's rather odd for Obi Wan to admit it. You consider pointing it out, but seeing him so worn out by the experience dampens your desire to wind him up. You turn on the holovid screen instead. 
"After a few more glasses of this, trust me, you'll feel better."
--
When you awaken, you feel something soft and warm beneath your face. It's the cloth of Obi Wan's tunic. 
Your head is buzzing faintly as you press your nose into the fabric, breathing him in. You only marginally care that what you're doing is inappropriate. It's been a long time since you've been this close, and you can blame the drinks if you really must.
You swallow, blinking slowly as you register that the room is filled with the sound of some holodrama you've never watched before. The music is swelling, and you reach over Obi Wan's chest to press the volume button on the remote. His head turns, following your movement though he's still half-asleep. 
You feel his breathing pattern change below your cheek, and you look up at him. His long eyelashes part slowly. His body shifts so that he's facing you, though he removes the arm that had fallen to your shoulder. He puts a hand on the back of the couch. 
And he looks at you.
The moment where he should have moved away - where one of you should have - comes and goes.
You lift your face, staring at his lips. You know you're caught in his gaze. He's watching you, not saying a word. 
The idea of leaning up to press your lips onto his is so far removed from your mind that it's basically an impossibility. You aren't padawans stealing moments in the temple anymore. Your heart doesn't pound with the fear that you'll give into your baser instincts. You're fully aware of what you're enjoying - the look in his eyes; the space between your mouths. Holding your faces so close that it's almost another kind of kiss. 
Then you shift your hips, just slightly, and you feel it. You feel the way his clothes pull tight at his center. Your leg brushes the taught line of fabric just below his stomach, running up his thigh. 
Considering his circumstances, it's a normal reaction. You tell yourself this as you feel a blush spreading over your face and down your neck. It's a physical response to repressing his body's urges. You try not to take it personally. You won't mention it. 
You blink, lowering your gaze from his and starting to extricate yourself from his side. He swallows, pulling away from you.
"I'm sorry-" His voice is throaty and a bit slurred. "I-"
The inner side of your hip brushes against him as you turn to get up, and a soft, almost dejected moan pours out of him. He snaps his mouth shut. You freeze, looking up at him.
That noise will not be so easy to avoid taking personally.
Suddenly he's sitting up. "Terribly sorry, I- I don't know what came- came over- "
You force a smile, though your heart is racing, and you pat his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Only nine more months to go, right?"
A slight look of relief passes over his wide eyes. "Yes," he agrees, clearly grateful you've decided to blame the trial and not him. "Yes. Quite right. My apologies."
When Obi Wan finishes his many further apologies and excuses himself, leaving you alone in your quarters, you are grateful for one thing: As you lie back in your bed, imagining the way his hips had twitched at the slightest brush, you thank the stars that the Nikkama doesn't go both ways. 
--
You'd had your fun. 
That's what you keep reminding yourself. When you have to keep your eyes from lingering a little too long during a shared smile. When your heart kicks up a little faster anytime you see that he's returned safely from some far-off world. When you kiss someone else and it doesn't feel the same. 
The Jedi are not forbidden from physical pleasures. There's no reason not indulge in sex, so long as attachment isn't involved. But when you'd both realized as padawans that kissing and touching was swiftly turning into longing and wondering, you'd agreed it was for the best not to continue. 
That conversation was so long ago, and the boy who'd made that promise was so far removed from the man who was currently pinning you down on the training room floor. 
"Yield," he pants, teeth glistening in the fading sunlight. His breath is hot, and you're swallowing it with gasps of your own. 
You flex your thighs, using the Force to lift both of you off of the ground. "Not until you've beaten me."
Huffing an exasperated laugh, he looks over your head in disbelief. Then he tightens his grip on the hand that holds your lightsaber and feels where your thumb is located. He stills. You're holding the empty hilt against his side, and your thumb is just below the pressure sensor. You grin, open-mouthed, sweaty, and undefeated. 
"In a non-lethal match, I have indeed beaten you."
You're just about to reply when he crushes your wrist in his palm, wrenching it upward and holding both of your arms harmlessly above your head. You yelp in surprise and no small amount of pain as he presses the weight of his body onto you, holding himself up by pinning you down. 
"But just for good measure - there," he says, digging his knees onto either side of your hips to hold you still. "Now yield."
You struggle against him, but it's like trying to break out of a durasteel cage. Then you catch sight of a dewy patch of golden skin and make a move that neither of you are expecting. 
Your teeth sink into his neck before you can catch the impulse, and the muscles there vibrate when he gasps in shock. He releases your hands, but catches them again quickly. His face is suddenly flushed when he pulls away.
"There can be some honor in defeat, you know," he scowls down at you. 
You smirk, pleased at getting a rise out of him. "A Jedi doesn't accept defeat with any reasonable chance at victory."
You lift your hips again, this time sending a concentrated pulse through the Force to try and wriggle out from under him. He holds you steady and you rock to one side, attempting to flip him off and reverse your positions, but to no avail. You take a few deep breaths, then try rolling your hips one last time. 
"Stop that."
His tone snaps you out of your concentration. You look up to see him glaring down at you, looking unsteady for the first time in your match. You hesitate, then decide to take the opportunity he's giving and make the same move again. You grind your body against him and watch as his eyes widen. He releases your wrists and rolls off of you, standing up. 
"I yield."
His turns his back on you, stalking over to where you've left your water canteens, and takes a long drink. 
You lie there a moment in stunned silence, then shake it off and stand up, following him. "Are you... okay? What was that?"
"It's nothing," he snips back immediately.
Then you see his shoulders soften and he turns to face you. "Forgive me. I'm not... feeling very well."
He gives you a forced smile, then reaches to pick up his robe from the floor. "Perhaps we could continue this later?"
You shrug, at a loss. "Sure."
"Very well," he answers, heading for the doorway. "Thank you."
You frown, his sudden formality making you uneasy. "Obi Wan... did I do something wrong?"
"No," he says, shaking his head. "I just need to get some rest."
You take a beat before pressing him again. "I'm sorry about the bite."
He sighs. "There's no need to apologize. The fault is mine. Perhaps... it would just be best if we hold off any sparring sessions for the time being."
"Oh?" you ask quietly. "For how long?"
"Just... just for now."
You furrow your brow. Then it clicks. "Until the end of the Nikkama?"
He looks caught-out, sending his gaze past you.
Of course. It's been six months, now. He hasn't mentioned it, but you might have known by his mood.
Now you're the one struggling to make eye contact. You pick up your own canteen, drinking, then wiping your mouth. 
"Is it that bad?" you finally ask.
He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, it's not meant to be easy."
There's a long, unbroken silence as you wonder how to approach this. Or whether to approach it, at all. 
"Do you... want to talk about it?"
He shakes his head. "It's simply a matter of discipline. There isn't much to talk about."
"Well," you tell him slowly, carefully. "I've read the texts. And I want you to know that if you need... help, getting through to the end, I'm here for you."
His face drops. "What does that mean?"
You take a step closer, your heart pounding as you try to put the words together. "The trial has rules against you seeking pleasure. But, everyone has needs. And if you aren't seeking it... if it- it just happens..."
He looks down at the space between your bodies, and it's like you can see every thought running through his head. He doesn't answer for a very long time. 
"Anything that were to happen," he says in a low tone, nearly a whisper. "Would need to be without my request."
Your breath is shortening with every word he says. "You asked me to help you with this," you reply. "And we are friends, are we not?"
He nods. "Of course."
"Then if you need it, let me help you."
Your hand tingles as you reach out to touch his side. He gently takes your hand and lowers it, almost grazing between his legs, and holds you there just a moment too long. 
Your fingers lift from his hand to unclasp his belt, but he pulls you back. 
"No," he says, swallowing and letting out a few slightly labored breaths. "No, I wouldn't- No."
You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't finish his thought.
"Well, as long as you know the offer stands," you tell him, straightening up. "If you change your mind..."
"I won't," he cuts you off. "There is no- no need."
Smiling for his benefit, you nod. "Of course. My mistake."
You can feel his gaze follow you as you bend over to pick up your own robe and brush past him out the door. 
In any other situation, Obi Wan would hold his own in a debate. He's quite well known for having opinions that aren't easily swayed.
In this matter, against your better judgment, you find yourself wondering if you might be the exception. 
--
A/N: I'm planning for this to be a short multi-chapter, maybe 3-5. Completely self-induglent. I want this man to be edged within an inch of his life. I want him whimpering, your honor.
On a side note, forgive me for this interruption in posting Water and Rock! It's been challenging because I've needed to basically write the full ending before I can be sure the plot/pacing is right for this chapter. It will be up soon, promise! In the meantime I've been using this side fic as a bit of a creative outlet lol.
As always, if you'd like to be tagged for this fic, feel free to comment or message me. :)
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bjornswoman · 4 months
Text
Destruction XII
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Author's note: Hello, happy New Year to you all! Sorry for being too late to post the last part of these series. However, here it is I hope you will enjoy it!
Pairing: Modern!Ivar x Reader.
Genre: Modern!au, series, fluff, drama, angst.
Warnings: Strong language, mentions of pregnancy.
Destruction | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI
A couple of months later.
You had forgotten the sound of your own giggle the past year. However, those two last months were enough to prove you wrong and remind you that you still contained the ability to feel happy and laugh — finally.
“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed laughing at your friend Torvi. There had been a long time since you last met each other. Actually, the last time you saw her was before your wedding.
A wedding that never really happened because Ivar decided to take you away. He had confessed that he loved you that same day as well. You could recollect the memory as it was yesterday.
Flashback – Two months ago.
“It’s not what you believe, (Y/N). It wasn’t just revenge for me. You mean a lot to me. You know I am just not good at saying those things and you, also, know that I can be dickhead sometimes. Don’t cry for me. I - I care for you.”
Ivar had said and kissed you like his life was depending on this kiss – like both of your life were depending on this kiss.
“Don’t get married, you don’t deserve being treated like that. Dump that asshole.”
You needed to hear these words back then – you needed a motive to stop that madness. After all, you didn’t love Mason, but Ivar.
You didn’t treat Mason right, so leaving him before this mistake would be the only thing you would do to save him from being miserable next to you – because of you.
“I won’t, Ivar.”
“You are mine.”
“I am yours.”
End of flashback.
“Oh, I’m and that’s not even the end of it.” Torvi continued speaking and got you out of your thoughts about that particular day. “Your mother was about to kill Hvitserk when he announced that Ivar had stolen you – those were the exact words he used.” She laughed. "Besides you know the love your mother contains for Hvitserk." You both laughed at her remark.
It was well-known that your mother loathed the sons of Ragnar – especially Hvitserk. She would call him peccant or sinful. Generally, she would criticize his way of living. Not that Ivar was her favourite brother though, but Hvitserk worked as a red flag for her.
You could picture your mother's face after hearing Hvitserk announcing that the wedding was over because you run away with his brother. You were sure long before Torvi told you about the events of that evening that she was furious – that was the main reason you hadn't even tried to contact her since then.
"What about Mason?" You hesitated to say his name after the way you treated him, though he wasn't honest to you either – as he lied to you about the events of the past and blamed Ivar about his doing.
Anyways, you felt guilt of your own lies, because you acted the very same way you accused Ivar of when you walked away on him.
"Oh well, I heard that he is fine though he and the boys are distant after what happened. He blames them for helping Ivar. Anyways, Ubbe told me that Ivar mentioned that he is after Freydis again."
You could understand the way Mason felt, but you couldn't focus on this after some names were mentioned successively.
"Ivar?" You muttered before you could stop yourself.
"Yes, Freydis told him."
You felt jealous once again about the same thing – you were back to the beginning of this messed up story. You felt weird after everything that happened the last two months in contrast with what Torvi just told you. Maybe you were just overreact, but still you couldn't bear lose again.
Maybe your love wasn't the healthiest one , but it was strong enough to swallow you if he hurt you like he did previously.
"Don't tell me you are jealous." Torvi said smiling after receiving no response from you.
"I'm not jealous of her." You fought back and she chuckled. It was too obvious that you were lying.
"You didn't really tell me what happened with Ivar after you left." She mentioned and you smiled at the memory.
Flashback – Two months ago.
Your heart was full after a very long time it felt half without him. You felt happy again being close to the person who you loved the most. Probably this wasn't the best way to come back together – not even close to be honest – but what was worth it for you was the fact that you were sitting on the passenger's seat of his car and he was on the driver's seat taking you away somewhere that only he knew.
Nobody spoke a word though – an awkward silence was surrounding the car. You didn't know what to say – you didn't know whether you had to say something or not. You knew Ivar by heart and yet you couldn't predict what was inside his head. You knew when he was mad, happy or sad, but you couldn't say what was bothering him.
"Ivar." You breathed and turned your eyes at his figure. "Do-do you love me?" Your voice was barely coming out as a whisper. It was a silly question to ask – even after he crashed your wedding and told you that he cared for you – you wanted to hear him saying this particular word. You hadn't heard him saying it – at least not to you.
"What kind of question is that? Didn't I told that I care for you less than an hour ago?" You could say by hearing the tone of his raised voice that he was getting annoyed by your question. You were aware of the fact that he wasn't good with words – especially this kind of words, but you wanted to hear him saying just for once.
"Why is it so difficult for you to say it again? Tell me, do you love me, Ivar?" You raised your voice out of frustration. You couldn't understand the reason why it had to be that hard for him to tell you about his feelings.
The possibility that he didn't feel that way came in your mind. Maybe he was just possessive when it came to you or it could be obsession the feeling he contained for you. Those could be the actual reasons why he couldn't express his love fore and that would be because it was non-existent.
"Yes!" Ivar yelled with obvious anger at you and hit his hands on the wheel.
"Yes, what?" You pressured him more as you were angry and disappointed at the time because of his inability to express himself to you – the person he was supposed to love.
Ivar hit the brake pedal so forcefully that if you weren't wearing the seatbelt you would be out of the car when it stopped. You turned your face at him and he had already focused his furious blue eyes on you.
"No, Ivar, you don't." With those last words you stormed out of his car and started walking at the opposite way from the one he was driving on. Though, you didn't get to make it far away because his hand grabbed yours tightly and forced you to turn back and face his wrath.
"What do you think you are doing? And what the Hel are you saying?" He growled on your face as you were trying to break-free from his grip to no avail.
You breathed heavily and looked his angry face.
"All you feel about me is some kind of authority and possessiveness as I'm one of your belongings." You spoke and motioned on your hand he was holding firmly. "The worst part of it is that it isn't even new to me to get this treatment from you. You don't love me, because you don't know how to and that's due to the fact that you feel that you don't deserve the love the others are trying to give you. The only thing you know how to do is hurting these people with your childish behaviour." You continued telling him with tears falling from your eyes – tears that you wiped away with your free hand.
Ivar was looking you without speaking, he was just looking at you quite shocked. Behind his anger you could spot guilt and redeem. He knew himself that you were right and that was the most painful part for both of you.
"The next one who will come in your life and try to give you the love you deserve let her." After these words, more tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You grabbed your gown on the palms of both of your hands and took a couple of tiny steps believing that Ivar would let you walk away from him – from his life.
However, such a thing didn't happen because he used the hand of yours he was gripping and pulled back – this time he held you closer to him your bodies were touching. You tried to fight back again, but he was too strong for you in such way that when he pulled you the lacework of your dress was ripped.
This time he even stopped holding your hand and he went for your throat. His grip was as tight or strong as it was on your hand, but it was firm enough to pull your face closer to his.
"Too late for that." Ivar said in raspy voice. "There is someone who has already made my heart beat for her – who have made me feel all of the things you've said before. I didn't know how it felt to be truly loved by somebody because of the problem I faced. I thought everyone pitied me – the poor cripple – until you came. You saw me what love really means – what it is – and I sent you away. When our paths crossed again, I thought that all I felt for you was just lust or possessiveness for a woman who used to be my partner. However, I got hold of my feelings – of my true feelings – after our first kiss in the bowling alley, when I called you to come to that bar to tell you about my conflict with Mason and after we got drunk and went to my house and slept together, remember? In fact, all this was just an excuse because I wanted to see you."
When he finished, Ivar let go off you throat and one of his hands touched your arm as the other when on one of his pockets. His touch was really genuine on your hand.
"I remember." You mumbled and smiled as you remembered that particular night you spent together.
"You want me to tell you that I love you, but you know that I'm difficult with words. Though, for you, I'll say it, but before I have to do something else." Ivar stopped and afterwards his hand got out of his pocket holding a red-whine velvet box.
You looked first at the box shocked and then at Ivar.
"Ivar, you don't have to do that just to prove your words to me." You tried to say, but he stopped you by taking your hand in his, after he opened the small box. As you expected, it contained a ring, but it was not just a random ring he picked. It was the ring you had told him years ago that you wanted to be the one you would be proposed with. It was a unique design which you couldn't find easily, but he did for you.
"I love you." Ivar finally confessed and you could even spot a tear on his cheek. His forehead touched your own as he eyes found yours. "Will you marry me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" He asked and you smiled widely.
At the sound of his words, you felt your heart hitting your chest with just force that it was going to rip out of your body.
"Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Ivar Lothbrok!" You exclaimed and kissed him passionately. This kiss wasn't like anything you had experienced. It was different from any other you had shared. One that both of you were expressing within it your deepest feelings about the other person.
When you stopped, Ivar pulled you closer to him again and placed the ring on your finger.
End of flashback.
After that moment that you would never forget about, you spent two months away from everyone you knew. It was just the two of you in the middle of nowhere. However, you had to return back in Kattegat to face the real life and what came after the decisions you made.
Ivar's family welcomed you back and they were glad to hear about your engagement – though they could see it coming. They knew better that you two about the feelings you shared.
So, there you were, talking with Torvi about the days that came after your almost-wedding with Mason.
Torvi looked at you with narrowed eyes and a huge smile on her face.
"And after this you are still jealous? You are crazy girl!" Torvi exclaimed and both of you laughed again. "No, I am being serious now." She said and you both burst into laughter again. "No, seriously now you are getting married with the love of your life!" You smiled and looked back at your feet.
"And that's not even the end of it."
"What do you mean?" Your friend asked confused and your smile became even more wider than it was already. "(Y/N)?" She asked you again anxiously this time.
As an answer, your hand moved on your stomach and you caressed it meaningful. In Torvi's face formed a smile identical to yours.
"Don't tell me that you...." She exclaimed and you tried to prevent her from let everyone know about your little secret.
"Shhhh, I am, but Ivar doesn't know yet. I am going to tell him tonight and then we are sharing it with the others. Keep it for me, okay?" You spoke on a soft tone of voice and Torvi agreed happily before she congratulated you about your pregnancy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night.
The night sky was very beautiful – enchanting you could even say. But that wasn't the best part of the night, that part would be the fact that you were sitting next to your fiancé, trying to find the best way of telling him that you were expecting his child as he was engrossed in with laptop with work matters. You were away for so long and matters had piled up.
"Ivar, when do you think that we should get married?" You asked him out of the blue as you stood up and walked through the balcony. Ivar glanced at you for a quick second and then turned his attention back on his laptop.
"I don't know, but we should not rush. In three to four months, what do you think?" He proposed without looking at you and you smiled, because this conversation was taking the way you wanted.
"That won't be convenient. I think that it should happen in one or two months." You continued.
"Why so?"
"I'll have gained weight. I won't feet in any dress."
Your words caught him off guard. He abandoned the computer on the coffee-table and fixed his eyes on you confused.
"What do you mean?" Ivar asked as the edges of his mouth lifted and left the sofa to come closer to you. He stopped on when his body was behind yours.
"What do you want me to mean?"
"Don't riddle me, (Y/N)." His voice was stern and you couldn't help your little smirk. "Are you pregnant?" He asked as his body collided with yours and his muscular hands hugged your torso and stayed on your stomach. Your back was touching on his chest, so you couldn't see his facial expressions. "Tell me." He demanded impatiently and you smiled.
You knew how much he wanted a child – a daughter or a son. You were also aware of the fact that he was delighted when Freydis had told him that she was pregnant in the past and thought it was his child when it wasn't.
"Yes, Ivar." You whispered and tilted your head at the side to catch a glimpse of his reaction to your news. What you saw was a tear slipping from his eye and you smiled again. "Are you happy?"
"No." Your blood froze in your veins and your smile died on your lips. You turned so you could face him. "No, I am not just happy. I'm thrilled!" He exclaimed and you felt your heart beating normally in your chest again.
His hands closed you inside them and one of them caressed your hair softly.
"I love you, wife."
You giggled when you heard him calling you wife.
"I love you, husband."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @anotherfan07, @heavenly1927, @zvacu-te-pile-moje
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ellestray · 8 months
Text
Burden.
Han x gender neutral reader. Angsty fluff. Implied idol!au. Friends to lovers. 826 words.
!! Very small implicit mention of depression.
Note: this is my first fic ever & i'm stepping out of my comfort zone by posting it- i hope you'll like it! i'd be very happy to take any constructive criticism :) also, english isn't my first language, so i apologise for any mistake. thank you for reading! & thank you to the wonderful, talented @astraystayyh for encouraging me and giving me advice 🤍
recommended playlist: from this place - John Pizzarelli there's no such thing as love. nevertheless, - Jeong Eun Park & Park Jungeun non è la fine - Yiruma
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"Do you ever wonder how we got here?"
You don't really know if Han is thinking of your respective careers, or your bond that blurred the lines between simple comradeship and romance— but it doesn't matter. Your answer would've been the same anyway.
You acquiesce. "Yeah."
Frankly, he doesn't know what exactly he's asking you about either. It's too late to think about it, anyway. But in this moment, sitting down on the cold floor of the practice room, he can only feel the warmth radiating from your near body. Maybe this very moment is what he's inquiring about.
"It doesn't matter how we got here, honestly. I'm just glad we're here." You add, flashing him a smile in the reflection of the mirror facing you. Seeing this interaction from a third party perspective makes him smile as well. His friends were right; you do look good together.
Since when had your existence become so bright to him, who's so used to darkness? It's like the sun had graced him with its presence, letting him know that it'll be okay. It'll all be okay, as long as you shine.
He wasn't sure how to convey this to you, though.
You've both been fully aware what you have is more than a simple friendship. Lingering touches and long stares were your way of telling each other that you knew. Nonetheless, irrational fears have always kept you from speaking it out. You both are somewhat cynical, dreading the ultimate end before anything had even started.
But the serenity he feels in this moment helps him forget the end could even exist.
"Shouldn't we talk about it?"
This time, you know exactly what he's thinking of.
"I don't know. Should we? We're fine like this." You sigh quietly. You had always been scared of this moment coming, where he's made his mind up, lost patience, or just needs answers from you.
"I mean, we can't just keep playing games forever."
You frown, upset he'd take this lightly. "This isn't a game to me."
"I know, to me neither", he quickly answers. "But we're acting like it. We can't- I can't physically act like you're mine while verbally acting like we're nothing. It hurts."
"Jisung-" You try to interject, but promptly get interrupted.
"We push and pull as if we had an eternity ahead of us. Y/n, we can't wait for each other forever. Waiting always leads to something. There needs to be a moment where the wait stops, and you're finally faced with what you've been expecting."
You stay quiet. It happened a few times before- Han trying to let you know, or at least implying he needed more. He's never been so direct, though, fearing screwing things up by being too blunt. This is new.
"Just me saying this should be enough to halt the wait. I'm crossing the line." He continues, turning to face you, rather than your reflection. "But why does it feel like we're still stuck?"
You allow yourself to take a moment to think, and he lets you. He always does. Even with all this wait talk, he still remains patient. It's almost frustrating.
"You know there's a shit ton of things that are blockages. For... you and I." You look down, trying to internally deal with your nerves.
"Tell me what they are. We can just get rid of them together." His voice is so soft, so quiet it's painful.
We. Together. You might implode if he keeps referring to the both of you as a singular entity.
"There's our careers. We're both drowning in work. Besides, if we get caught, what will people say?"
"If we have time to be friends, we have time to be lovers. We can make time for each other like we always have."
Lovers. That hit you like a ton of bricks.
"And, 'besides', I don't recall you ever caring about people's opinions. You know I don't care either", he resumes. "What's really holding you back, y/n?"
Of course, he could see through you. There's absolutely no point in not being straightforward.
"It's just... Those feelings, they're so unique and overwhelming, it's like they're crushing me. I'm suffocating, I can't keep suppressing them— but I don't know how to deal with them, or how to express them. And, if I'm being honest, I genuinely don't think I'll be able to live if something happens to us because of how much I'm lacking."
"You can learn. That's what love is all about, growing and learning together."
Love. He said it.
"You don't get it, Ji. You deserve for love to be at your image. Loud, prideful, genuine. You deserve someone that will always make you feel as special as you are and.. deeply, intensely loved. I've never had to express those things, and I don't have much room to. I just don't know how to do that."
"Then let me. I'll carry the burden of expressing our feelings."
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Text
(This is a first time trying to write anything kinda COD related)
You ride through the town feeling weary, this last political outing had been more than tiresome and you were ready to be back at the manor and curled up in your own bed. So when carriage lurched to a stop you already felt a groan leaving your lips before you heard the commotion. There was yelling and you could hear your own guards shouting.
Curiosity had always been your weakness.
You lean to look from the carriage window and see a giant of a man being beat in the street. Your own guards are trying to clear the path so that you might safely reach your manor but another man with a switch seems enraged and unwilling to move.
The man you could only describe as a giant is on his knees, his arms up, trying to cover his head from potential blows.
The scene causes anger to bubble into your chest and despite your handmaiden's warning you step from the carriage with your head held high and a tight expression.
"What is the meaning of all this?"
The man with the switch stops arguing seeing you and ducks his head. "Just putting some things to rights my lady, I apologize for causing you delay."
"And what exactly are you putting into right?" Your gaze lingers over the man on his knees.
"My purchased help is anything but. He has broken many of the projects I've had him handle. He does not learn, a beating is the only language he knows, the only one we have in common."
"So you intend to mistreat your help in public?"
"He ran my lady. I used good money to purchase help and I won't let him just leave and waste that."
Anger festered. Lashing a man in the street was something you wouldn't stand for.
"And you would behave this way in public, in my town?"
His eyes widened. "My lady I swear to you I'm only doing what is necessary. He can't listen and when I'm lax he feels he can do as he wants."
"I have been gone from this town for to long then. I didn't realise the rules of decency were changed in my absence. Because here you are doing as you wish while my attention was lax. Should I treat you as you have treated him?" You gesture to the man.
The certifiable giant had slowly stood to his feet while this exchange was taking place. He seemed uncomfortable not just from the lashing but also from the attention of everyone around the square.
The man dropped his switch as he stammered. "I am allowed to oversee my property as I see fit."
"And I am allowed to oversee my town and it's citizens as I see fit. You said you purchased this man?"
He stammered more before telling you yes.
"How much?"
"What does..."
You cut him off. "How much? I intend to take him off your hands, since you are unable to control him and he is unhelpful to you. So how much? I will purchase him for the same amount you originally paid."
Your tone and expression leave no negotiation and you leave a guard to settle up with the man. You step towards the hurt man and gently tuck his arm in yours. He looks down at you with suspension, his slightly wavy locks stick to his forehead. You tug him towards your carriage and wave off the concern your guards give at your actions.
"Come we'll get you cleaned up and taken care of."
He mutters something in a language you don't know.
"Ah. I see." You speak to him with a soft voice as you coax him into the carriage behind you, propriety be scorned.
Your handmaiden eyes you and chastises your recklessness. But you ignore her and continue to speak assurances to the man that has to hunch awkwardly to fit in the seat across from you both. Even if he can't understand your words hopefully he can understand your tone.
When the man seems less unsure you try to learn his name. You point to yourself and say your name and then point to Lucy, your handmaiden and say her name. You repeat this a few times and then gesture to him.
He seems to understand what you want and simply says, "König."
Part 1/?
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tan1shere · 2 months
Note
Could you write a Young Miko story where she notices the reader is being distant. And when she asks it’s because of hate she’s receiving online and she’s not used to it. Like Miko comforting the reader maybe? So cute to think about.
My Angel
Young Miko x female reader !
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A/n: Your wish is my command my love ! I especially find this fitting right now, so I hope this helps whoever reads it when you're facing hurtful people <3
Warnings: none, comfort only !!! Buttt maybe a bit of hate and language ? Small breakdown ?
Masterlist
It rang through your brain constantly. You couldn't get rid of those same words. Over. And over. Miko had noticed this change in you, she didn't know what was exactly going on but today she decided to get it out of you. You were drifting from her, it hurt her as she missed you. You knew the 'perks' of being with someone in the public eye, it wasn't as easy as you had thought. You were so confident that any hate you got you'd be able to handle it, ignore it even. Boy were you wrong. It kept on going, nonstop of how you didn't deserve her, how they'd be better. That, you could handle. You knew miko chose you for a reason. She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be. But it started getting more brutal. Little details you even hated about yourself, they'd mention it.
Then it got to the worst of the worst kind of hate. The 'kill yourself' and so on. It was getting to you near the end. You couldn't handle it anymore.
As you sat watching TV, you couldn't stop thinking about this one message you got. "Miko is just sorry for you, she doesn't love you, I mean look at yourself. You don't belong here or even in this world at that point. Go kill yourself." It played in your mind all day, a little voice chanting it. You couldn't let the last part consume you, but you were beginning to let it just happen. We're they truly right? It was tricking your brain into thinking it was. All the voices, all the messages. You couldn't think properly. You get a tap on your shoulder, it was Miko. She was finally home. You look at her, a bit startled but your expression changed back to its gloomy self.
Although you didn't look sad per say, your demeanor was cold, off-putting. "What's up with you lately?" She just asks at random. You furrow your brows, keeping looking at her. "What do you mean?" Fiddling with your fingers, you kept looking at her. But you couldn't bare it. "You've been so distant, have I done something?" She wonders, sitting beside you. You just shake your head. "So is there something?" Now you look to the side, such a stupid give away but you could feel tears pooling and you didn't want to look stupid. She gently grabs your face, and you curse because when she does a warm liquid comes down your face.
There was no stopping them, they had been bottled up inside for far too long. "Shhh, talk to me." She brings you close rubbing your hair. "Please? Im really worried." She continues speaking, doing her same actions. You couldn't form words, you sob and sob. But her sweet heart understands completely, she takes her time with you. Knowing that whatever it was wasn't easy. Gentle touches on your hair and your cheek as you rest your head on her should. Your crying had subsidied thankfully. Your eyes stung so you just closed them. "Want to tell me what's up mama?" Her tone was soft, and comforting. "I've, been getting quite a lot of messages.." You spoke quietly, feeling your throat hurt also. Having let so much emotion out you were just genuinely tired. "What messages love?" A sigh escapes your lips. You grab your phone to just show her as it'd be easier.
She reads everything, comments, dms, posts. It hurt her, not only were they being cruel to the woman she loved, but her own fans. "It's so hurtful." Your quiet voice speaks up. "I know, I know.." She sighs now. "You don't deserve any of this, you've hardly been in anything anyway, this is so disgusting." You hated the fact she was still reading the stuff, you could see how upset she was about the whole situation. You grab your phone gently, setting it aside. "I didn't want to worry or upset you-" She shakes her head. "I'm glad you told me. Although I wish you would've done it a bit sooner, I'm glad I know now." You nod. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you til now." She kisses your forehead. "I chose you for a reason, none of these hating loosers." You smile as she speaks a small laugh coming out of you. "There she is." Shes the one smiling now, you blush at her words. "Keep that, it suits you." She refers to your smile. "Oh Miko. How'd I get so lucky." You put your head back onto her shoulder.
"How did I get so lucky with you." She rubs your arm, as a comfortable silence approaches. "Don't listen to them from now on yeah? And if there's anymore, please tell me. Its no good keeping it to yourself like that." You nod and smile at her. "I'm glad you chose me." "I'm glad I chose you too my angel."
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4jax4jax · 1 year
Text
Co-Star Chemistry
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Dom Ajax Petropolus x Sub reader
Summary: You and Ajax are co-stars in a movie, but can’t seem to get your chemistry right.
Warnings: M x F, Hard Dom Ajax, choking, making out, doggy style, rough sex, crying, male orgasm, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, degrading language, hair pulling.
Word Count: 2.2K
“Cut.”
As the cameras stopped rolling and workers scrambled to wrap things up for the day, both you and Ajax let out a sigh of frustration. Despite your best efforts, your on-screen chemistry with him just wasn't cutting it.
You two had been working on this scene for the past few hours now, and just couldn’t seem to nail down the tension between your characters. The two of you had struggled to make your performances convincing, but the pressure was mounting as the director had been expressing her concerns more frequently. 
“I don’t care how you two do it, but figure out a way to make it look like you don’t hate each other, please.” 
You gave a polite nod with wide eyes and Ajax just shot her a pursed smile and nodded. As you angrily retreated to your trailer, you felt a hand grab your arm. 
“What’s your problem?” 
You turned around and saw none other than your lackluster co-star. You rolled your eyes and continued walking as his irritating voice rang through your ears. 
“You heard her back there, we need to figure something out.” 
Before you could close the door on him, Ajax reached out and pushed through instead. You slam the door behind him, making him jump. 
“Listen, Ajax. You’re a great actor, I’m a great actress, but I just don’t think we’re compatible, alright? It’s just not working between us.” 
You walked over to a counter and poured yourself a glass of water, avoiding his gaze at all costs. You couldn’t bring yourself to have any tension between him on screen, because the tension you two had off screen was more than enough. 
“Then, we can make it work. You have a copy of the script in here, right?” 
You set the glass down and crossed your arms over your chest, using your chin to point to a table behind him, where the script sat. 
He quickly picked it up, flipping through the pages until he came to a stop, his eyes scanning over the page in a frenzy to find a scene to practice with you. 
“Here. We can.. We can go over the scene we just can’t seem to get past.”
A sarcastic tone dripped from his words as he slid the script towards you. You rolled your eyes and closed the pages as you looked back at him with a distasteful look on your face. 
"Fine. But can we just get through this quickly? I have things to do." 
"Sure, but let's try to make this believable, okay?" He walked closer to you and flipped open the script again, almost making you scoff. 
"I know how to act, Ajax. Don't tell me what to do."
He grumbled something under his breath before sighing and letting you speak. You took a deep breath and fixed your hair before getting into character, slightly raising your voice at him. 
“Maybe if you fixed your attitude and weren’t such a bother to everyone around you, then I’d like to be around you.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ajax took a small step towards you, and somehow you couldn't help but gravitate towards him as well. With the cameras off and without an audience of 3 dozen, everything suddenly became easier.  
“You’re insufferable to work with, you walk around like you own the place, and you think you’re some kind of genius when you’re no smarter than everyone here combined. That’s what that’s supposed to mean.” 
He rolled his eyes and threw his head back before throwing his arms up in anger. He looked beautiful, but of course you couldn’t tell him that. 
“Why do you always act like that? Like you always have something better to do than be around me, like you’d rather be anywhere else but here?”
“You know exactly why, Ajax. It’s because I’m in love with you.” 
A thick silence hung over the two of your heads as you realized your mistake. His character's name wasn't Ajax. His mouth opened for a quick moment, as if to recite his next line, but it settled on closing. You watched his Adam's apple bob against his throat. 
“Your next line is-” You had attempted to mutter out, but you didn’t stand a chance against the way Ajax suddenly leaned in to press a firm against your lips. He pushed you back against the counter, both of his arms caging your body as he towered over you. 
You softly sighed into his mouth before swiftly hopping onto the surface of the counter, pulling him impossibly closer when you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. 
Ajax sneaks a hand up to the back of your head, and softly grasps at your hair, making your mouth fall open in a choked moan.
“A-Ajax..” 
He was quick to pull at your roots harder, effectively shutting you up. In strong contrast to the assertive personality you sported just a few minutes prior. 
“Not now.” 
Your lips smashed back together in a passionate kiss, fueled by pure spite and lust towards one another. Moans poured from your mouth into his, as he greedily swallowed whatever noises you would give him. 
“Do you want this as much as I need it?” Ajax mumbled against your mouth as his hand reached down towards the button of your shorts. He didn’t bother to take them off, but instead he softly grabbed at your clothed cunt, as if it were his.
You nod and your thighs squeeze his hand tighter. He lifts you from the counter, and in a flash he throws you down onto your bed, face down ass up with your head against your pillows. 
You look back at him and watch as he pulls off his own pants, you knew the costume crew would give you both hell for not changing out of your outfits, but both of you were too clouded by pure lust for each other to care. 
Ajax caught your lust filled gaze and made quick work discarding his clothing before leaning down against your body and speaking lowly into your ear. You whimpered into the pillow at the feeling of his strong chest pressing into your back. 
“I’ll take care of you, alright? You don’t need anything else right now, got it?”
As if you were under a spell, you immediately nodded against the pillows. The warmth his body provided was short lived, and you almost complained until your shorts were practically torn down your hips, your underwear with them. 
A short gasp forced its way from your lips when you felt his finger running gently up your pussy, smearing your arousal against the pad of it. Pushing your hips back, he finally slipped the digit inside of you. He couldn’t help but groan at your warmth and wetness. 
“Hurry up.. I told you I have things to do.” 
You teasingly remark, swaying your hips as to get his attention. 
“Fine.” 
Ajax quickly removed his finger from inside of you and used your slick and sticky arousal as lube. You were almost entranced by the way the blunt head of his cock would get caught on the makeshift hole he made with his fist, it made you all too eager to have him inside of you. 
As you impatiently waited for him to get on with it already, you suddenly felt a large intrusion poking at your folds. You gasped in shock and gripped the pillow underneath you. And true to his word, he was hasty with his movement. 
In one fast movement, his dripping cock was fully sheathed inside your wetness. You could feel the mix of your own sticky slick and his thick pre dripping down your cunt, and stringing down to your plushy thighs. 
You let out a low moan at the sensation, subconsciously clenching around him as you adjusted. Ajax let a quiet whimper-like noise at the feeling, and began to shallowly trust. Your ass slapped back against his pelvis, and your soaked pussy was absolutely coating his dick in creamy white arousal. 
Grabbing onto your waist, he began to use your body as a personal fucktoy, maneuvering your body like you were nothing but an object. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, using your hips as handles to fuck into you fast and hard. 
You pushed back against his body and watched the way he threw his head back in ecstasy at the way your body moved against his. The sounds that were produced every time he withdrew himself and plowed into you were driving both of you crazy. 
“You’re amazing.. We should fight more often..” 
You rolled your eyes and clenched around him, almost making him double over in pleasure and shock. But as soon as he regained his position, he changed it just as quickly.
Ajax draped his body over yours and reached forward to grab at your jaw. Using his long fingers he forced your mouth open and dipped his index and middle into your panting mouth. Two fingers in your mouth, and three holding your jaw as he relentlessly pounded into your from behind, you were really just a cocksleeve to him. You adored it. 
“Try that shit again, see what fucking happens..” 
Whimpering, you tried to drop your head back onto the pillow, but his forceful grip on your head forbade you to even attempt it. 
“M’sorry.. W-Won’t happen again..”
He craned your neck back to face him, and despite being covered in sweat and running makeup, you looked stunning. He leaned down and pulled you towards him in a sloppy kiss. 
Ajax tongue licked everywhere possible inside your mouth, slithering over the backs of your teeth, sliding against your own tongue, everything that was once yours was now his. Your teeth clashed into his, unable to stop your body from being absolutely destroyed by his cock ripping through you. 
“You have shit to do? Finish then, right now.” 
He let go of your jaw and pushed you harshly back into the pillow, making you whine at how rough he was treating you. He planted one hand on your skull and gripped your hip with the other, using them as leverage to tear you open and permanently claim you as his. 
You reached a hand down to rub at your clit, pushing tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves as you felt your arousal drip down your fingers, and your body lurched forward with every rough thrust. 
“Fucking shit- you’re so fucking wet.. Could fuck you all day..” 
Ajax reached down to grab the hand rubbing at your clit and you whined from the loss of contact, and brought your free hand to take its place. He quickly shoved your fingers in his mouth, and his eyes almost immediately flipped to the back of his skull. He groaned from around your fingers, and sucked them clean.  
“Tomorrow, same time..”—He couldn’t stop himself from panting, like some kind of animal.—“I need to taste you.” 
You wordless agreed through a choked out whimper, you could feel the rubber band inside of you getting pulled farther and farther. With each abusive thrust from the man you hated just moments before, and with each rough swirl of your fingers against your over-sensitive bud, you were due for an explosive climax.
Despite what you had told him earlier, you never wanted this to end. His offer, ‘could fuck you all day’ sounded all too good to you. 
But it was far too late, you screamed into your pillow as you positively and utterly soaked everything around you in cum. He gritted out a loud moan through his teeth at the feeling of you fluttering and gushing around him. And despite the tightness threatening to push him out of you, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, the one that caused you to squirt all over him, the one that he had caused. 
It was simply too much for the both of you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your body practically collapsed against the bed. But Ajax was unrelenting. As soon as your own legs and arms gave out under you, he reached under you to grip at your hips. You were pliant, nothing but a sex doll at this point, and he loved it. 
“Fuck.. Fucking love this pussy, all mine, isn’t it?” 
You couldn’t help but moan out a faint “mhm” as he used you and abused your plenty stretched hole. 
Ajax collapsed against your limp body and you felt his thrusts becoming messier, less calculated, weaker. 
“God, you feel so fucking good.. I can’t.. I can’t any more..” 
It took virtually no time at all until he exploded into you, completely painting your slick walls in his own release. As he pumped loads of warm cum into you, he groaned out breathy noises into your ear, and you couldn’t help but get worked up again just by hearing him. 
Ajax didn’t stop humping at you, and you could feel his cum spurt out of you at how much there was, and how he somehow was still fucking you. 
“A-Alright.. Down boy, you’ve had enough for today.” 
You weakly murmured as he finally slipped out of you. You flipped over so you were facing the ceiling, which you could barely see through the tears and makeup that brimmed your eyes. Ajax, still panting, collapsed against your chest, pulling your drenched body against his. 
Looking down at him, you spoke softly. 
“Think we’re good with our chemistry now, right?” 
“Yeah.. But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.” 
193 notes · View notes
icallhimjoey · 1 year
Text
To Have And To Scold
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.
CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), slow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader
Author’s note: here's part 3! it's looking like this story is going to be surpassing my usual 5 parts... so, um... i hope everyone gets invested enough to keep reading past that!
Wordcount: 4K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue
You couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was so dumb. But... you simply couldn't help it.
That framed picture somehow would find its way back into your thoughts every so often. It felt a little weird, but you also kept almost automatically rationalising it for yourself. You had photos with Mark all over; your social media pages were littered with photographs of the two of you throughout the years, and the comments accompanying them would probably make anyone feel the same way you did about that framed photograph in Joe's hallway.
So then, why did that framed photograph feel so weird to you?
Joe loved Poppy like you loved Mark, you knew that to be true. The only reason Poppy wasn't weird about your friendship with Mark was because of her friendship with Joe.
You all understood on a level not many other people did.
But still... you didn't know why, but, that photograph of the two of them felt... odd. Kind of raised your hackles a little. So, you asked Mark if he'd seen it when he was over at yours for snack night: a night of lots of snacks and dips as a substitute for dinner.
"So, I've got a question... remember when I went over to visit Joe two weeks ago?"
Mark snuck a baby carrot into his mouth that scooped up a dollop of hummus twice its size, and then immediately wanted to say something.
"Hmm," Mark hummed urgently, his face in a deep frown as he chewed.
It took ages for him to get it down, but you waited because going straight in to call Mark's fiance's friend weird might not have been the best way to go about this.
"Yea, what the fuck happened?" Mark asked, eyes big, but already aimed at another snack to grab from another bowl.
"What do you mean? Nothing happened,"
Mark looked at you all sarcastically as he chewed, as if to say, yea, all right, sure.
"What? We talked about your wedding, set dates for events, you know, figured some things out," you waved a hand around to convey the casuality, "But–"
You were about to ask Mark if he'd seen that framed photo of Joe and Poppy that he'd cropped the two of you out of, but Mark interjected before you could bring it up.
"No... something happened." Mark said matter-of-factly and then he paused and looked at you, ready to listen to what you had to say for yourself. But, you kept quiet too, because what the fuck was he on about? So, Mark continued, "Joe didn't speak to Poppy for like... five days? Four or five days after that, which is," Mark leant back and tilted his head back to shout his next words towards the ceiling, "a huuuuge deal!"
"Oh, well, that must've been unrelated to our meeting... we just talked about your wedding, he said I was nice, and–"
"Ah!"
Mark pointed a finger at you that he held right next to his face, one eye closed as he looked at you.
"That's it. He said you were nice,"
"I am nice," you argued.
"Yea, we tell Joe all the time... but he said you were nice?"
Opting to ignore the fact that you'd now heard from several sources that people were talking about you behind your back, you explained how you'd nearly walked out after Joe thought he was being smart that night. How you had said that you were a nice person, implying that Joe could just have been friendly and polite, and it would've been normal. And then you explained how, at the end of the night, Joe had struggled through telling you that he agreed and thought you were nice too. You mocked Joe to paint a vivid picture for Mark and exaggeratedly stuttered your way through the words Joe'd said.
Mark just ate and listened to you, and by the end shook his head a little at your impression, a dangerous smile playing his face.
"But have you seen that framed photograph he has in his hallway? Right by the front door?"
You finally got to the point you were trying to make.
"Of Pop?"
"The one we're cropped out of," you were hoping for Mark to be a little outraged, but he remained totally calm.
"Yea, Poppy has the same one, we've got it framed upstairs, on the landing," Mark said as he licked spilled mascarpone from his finger. "Smaller version, though,"
"We're cropped out of that,"
"Yea,"
"Mark... we're cropped out of that," you needed more of a reaction from him.
"Yes."
But you didn't get it. Mark didn't seem bothered at all. Like you'd said, Mark was made of trust and had just gone and proven it once more.
"He went and had a photo printed that he then had to cut two people out of... don't you think that's weird?"
"Why would it be weird?"
"I mean, I don't know... there are so many other pictures of the two of them, why did he choose a pic that he had to cut us out of,"
Mark shrugged, said, "It's a nice photo of them," and that was that. It was a nice photo of them. It just... it bothered you. You were unable to articulate why it did, exactly.
A phone buzzed on the table, and both of you looked to see if yours was the one that was ringing. It turned out to be Mark's.
Joe was calling.
"Speaking of," Mark said, answering and bringing the phone to his ear, "Joe!"
Mark listened, then rolled his eyes at you even though you had no idea what Joe was telling him.
"How drunk?"
You couldn't help but let a huffed laugh escape you. Poppy and Joe had gone to the pub, you knew. Context clues filled you in on the situation.
"Fucking hell," Mark said and kind of slumped into your sofa more as he listened to whatever Joe was telling him. "I mean, I'd give you advice, but you've been in this situation more than I have,"
Mark was going to have to leave, wasn't he?
He suddenly laughed loudly at something Joe said, head tipped back, mouth wide open, before muttering, "Shared responsibility," softly, indicating he was repeating Joe's words back to him.
"Yea, no. All right, that's fine... see you in a bit. Keep a close eye on her, though, will you?"
Mark said it with love so evident in his voice, it made you scrunch up your eyebrows. If someone else had been there, you'd have made eye-contact with them and would've probably audibly awed.
Mark laughed again at something Joe said, then shook his head as he looked at you, like you knew what the fuck was going on.
When Mark hung up, he turned to you and without any warning said, "Let's go, we're going to the pub."
When you walked in about twenty minutes later, the place was absolutely packed.
"Go grab four beers, I'll find them," Mark said, and you asked, "Four beers? Not three beers and, I don't know, a sprite for Pop?"
"Four beers," Mark said again, holding four fingers up for emphasis before he pushed himself in between a few people and disappeared into the crowd. Off to find Poppy and Joe.
You turned towards the bar and sighed at the fact that Joe and Poppy hadn't just gone to a normal pub, but somehow, one that seemed to exclusively house an after-work-drinks sort of crowd. Most people were dressed smartly, men in suits with top buttons undone and women in pencil skirts and high heels that crossed their legs at the ankles as they held drinks against forearms that were folded over their stomachs. You were in jeans and converse and definitely felt out of place, but the atmosphere was nice. You almost couldn't hear the music over the loud chatter and the belly laughs.
Just when you thought, okay so how am I going to get these four drinks over to my friends when I don't know where they are, all three of them popped up right beside you.
And Poppy was wasted.
"Babe," she slurred as she slung both her arms around your neck the minute she laid eyes on you; eyes that were barely open and kind of crossed over, mind you.
For someone semi-posh, Poppy got sloppy alarmingly quick when alcohol entered her system. She was like you in that way.
"I love you, you know that?" Poppy sprayed into your ear loudly, voice control out of the window, and it made you wince at Mark over her shoulder.
"I'm taking her home," Mark said and that's when you noticed that Joe was trying to get one of Poppy's arms into her coat. She was still attached to you, however, so it really wasn't working out for him.
"I really do," Poppy didn't pay Joe any mind and instead evaded his hands and grabbed you by the face as she pulled back from her hug. For a second you were scared she was going to plant a fat drunk kiss right onto your face.
"Not like Mark does obviously, but I do love you, you're amazing,"
You frowned through a smile, not sure where this was coming from. Had Joe and Poppy talked about the two of you like you and Mark had talked about the two of them? That didn't sound completely out of this world. Kind of made sense, actually.
"Okay, Poppy," your frown turned into scrunched up eyebrows, but your smile remained, unwavering.
"No, listen to me," Poppy got all serious, her hands still clasping your face. She tried to make stern eye-contact, but her eyes were dancing.
"Let's go Pop," Mark interrupted, but it was like he wasn't even there.
"You're so important,"
She was so, so drunk. You could smell the liquor on her breath.
"Thanks,"
"And nice,"
You shot eyes over to Joe who quickly looked down, folding Poppy's coat over his arm, giving up on trying to get Poppy to put it on. He passed it to Mark who leant in to say something closer to his ear that you didn't catch, but Joe laughed, mouthed, "Tequila," and then held up 6 fingers. Mark groaned.
"Poppy," you moved your hands to covers hers and softly pried them off of you. "Thank you. I love you too. But, look who's waiting," you pointed a small finger over her shoulder at Mark, and Poppy seemed very annoyed which only made you laugh.
"Let's go, babe," Mark took hold of Poppy's shoulders and you saw him work to hold her up as much as he was working to guide her towards the exit. Her feet were everywhere and nowhere, just like her the aim of her eyes.
"Good luck," Joe grinned at Mark who looked back over his shoulder.
The two of you made eye-contact, and within 2 seconds of just looking at each other, you'd said goodbye and promised to call each other tomorrow, all unspoken.
"Don't let those beers to go waste," Mark nodded towards the bar where the four beers you'd just paid for still stood, waiting to be drunk.
Oh.
Immediate panic washed over you.
Mark and Poppy were leaving, which meant now you and Joe had four beers to share and... you and Joe had four beers to share.
Mark could've been smug about it. Could've made a face at you to tease, but he hadn't. Had just quickly said to drink the drinks and then turned his full attention to his fiancé who was bumping and leaning into people left, right, and center.
"You got it," Joe wasn't going to let himself be told twice and slid two glasses slightly more towards you before grabbing the other two, one drink in each hand, double fisting. It looked like Joe had also had a few drinks already, which, of course he had. Poppy hadn't been doing tequila shots on her own, you assumed.
Suddenly, your evening with Mark of bitching about Joe from the comfortability of your own sofa in your own flat had turned into an evening in a posh pub with the actual dude himself. Alone. Just the two of you in a sea of suits, button-ups and pencil skirts. The prospect of it was awful.
Who would mind two wasted beers? No one really. Certainly not you, at least. Joe could have all four if he wanted. You were about to come with a dumb excuse, a polite one, to get out of there, but before you could, Joe cleared his throat.
"So," Joe said, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Joe was sort of turned to you, full body language engaged and ready for a chat.
A chat.
With you.
Like normal people.
Like friends.
"Who's going to be your plus one?" Joe asked and immediately busied his mouth as he took a slow sip of beer, peering at you over the glass.
You frowned a little at his question, and then more at the way he looked. All suited up, top buttons of his shirt undone, loafers – he looked like everyone else there, fit right in amongst the office crowd even though you knew very well Joe didn't have an office job. Joe didn't know how to do water-cooler-talk, didn't know how office gossip worked. Why these after-work drinks at the pub were such an important part of working in an office. You did, or had done, but still, Joe fit in with everyone else and it was very clear that you didn't.
It made you feel inferior but also a little rebellious at the same time.
You reached for a drink for yourself, deciding that you actually would mind wasting two beers that you'd paid for and you copied Joe, taking an even slower sip than he did, buying yourself time. If this was going to happen, if you were going to have drinks and be out with Joe, you weren't going to be the first one to back out. You had said you were going to at least try to be friendly, hadn't you? And it seemed like Joe was trying, so now you had to too.
"For the wedding," Joe clarified, like you didn't understand what he originally meant.
You took long to answer, smacked your lips and looked at your glass as you lowered it, saying, "I don't think we get plus ones, Joe,"
It was Joe's turn to frown.
"Of course we do,"
"Don't think so,"
You had the wedding invitation stuck under a magnet on your fridge. Saw it every day. Nowhere did it mention a plus one for you. You assumed later because you'd been asked to be Mark's best man. You'd have actual jobs to do. Bringing a date just to leave him stranded was weird, and so it made sense to you.
"Why wouldn't we?"
Joe hadn't had the same train of thought, it turned out.
"Does your wedding invitation have a plus one on? Because mine doesn't,"
Joe thought back, eyes darting around but not really looking at anything. "I don't... I don't remember word for word exactly what the invitation said–" Joe paused abruptly and looked at you, one corner of his mouth slightly upturned. "Well, I do, of course," He didn't, but he didn't need you to know that. "But surely..."
"I think they kind of want us to focus on the jobs we've been given," you said, feeling all smug that you got to tell Joe something he didn't know yet. One-upping Joe felt stupidly good. You were in jeans! In dirty old canvas trainers!
"Oh yea," Joe quipped, and you didn't like how casual that suddenly sounded.
"Like not forgetting the rings,"
And there it was. In a reflex, you lifted your middle finger up at him and immediately realised that Joe could absolutely take full offense. You weren't people who flipped each other off for fun. You said you were to at least try to be friendly, but nothing else had really changed since your meeting over at Joe's house. You weren't suddenly people who were comfortable around each other to be mean in ways you could be mean with Mark, knowing that the bickering was never damaging but more a fun way to get actual frustrations out.
But luckily, Joe gasped a small gasp through a wide smile. No offense taken.
"I thought you said you were nice," the face Joe made almost seemed flirty.
"And you agreed," you threw right back at him. "Even told Pop about it,"
Joe didn't argue, and so you knew you were right. Joe and Poppy had talked about you and Mark.
A pause followed where you weren't sure how to continue the conversation, and the feeling of wanting to abandon the evening all together crept back in. You'd had half a beer, had said some words to each other, so you knew it'd be all right for you to now go, well, I actually have to go get going. But then, something else crossed your mind.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Joe absolutely wasn't expecting the tone switch in you, suddenly sort of serious.
"Have you thought about your speech already?"
You'd briefly mentioned it the other night, your speeches. You'd said that you would just need to make sure that the vague idea of them wouldn't be insanely different from each other. If you were just going to do a a short quick little cute speech, Joe couldn't do an insanely long one that included a whole PowerPoint presentation, or something else insane, like a song. But, you'd very quickly come to the conclusion that neither of you wanted to speak into a microphone for very long.
You wanted your speech to be heartwrenchingly beautiful though. Mark was going to fucking wail at his wedding, you'd absolutely make sure of it.
"I have," Joe said, nodded slowly, and for a second you thought, how the fuck is this guy an actor?! He was obviously lying.
"Okay..." you phrased it like a question, and a short silence followed where you both narrowed your eyes at each other, not fully trusting what wasn't said aloud. Joe was confusing you and you didn't like it.
"But we really don't get plus ones?"
You knew Poppy would have laughed at the way he said it. You didn't. You just shrugged.
"Maybe Poppy doesn't want you to bring a date, just because,"
Oof. Wrong thing to say. Insinuating all kinds of things Joe didn't appreciate, you could see it in the sudden tension in his jaw. It hit almost below the belt. You kind of meant it, though. Had that blown up framed photo of them on your mind still.
"And perhaps Mark doesn't want you to bring one for the same reason,"
You learnt the hard way that dishing it out was far easier than taking it.
That stung, like it always did when people would assume you and Mark were dating, and wouldn't believe it when you said you weren't.
It stung almost extra because you'd just thrown someone a comment you hated getting yourself, and then got it right back like you deserved. The fact that it was from someone who'd probably gotten the comment loads too made you feel even worse about it.
Served you right.
If the air between you hadn't been awkward but maybe sort of pleasant for a second, you missed it.
Slow sips from wet beer glasses were had, and you cursed yourself for not being able to just call it a night already. You were committed to win this now, even though none of this was a contest. Nothing ever was, but you were just like that. Couldn't help wanting to win at everything, especially when it came to petty shit like this. There was no way you were going to leave this pub before Joe did.
It was all awkward comments, feigned naturalness and ease, and when you finished your second beer, you hated how Joe just went and ordered another two. He kept you there and you realised he was onto you. He fucking knew you weren’t going to say no, weren’t going to be the one to back out first. You were too much like Poppy in that way, you thought, and it felt a little vulnerable. Like Joe could read you, could really see right through you, just because he knew Poppy so well.
But with alcohol in your system, you started feeling invincible. Feelings like guilt and regret took a back seat, which was dangerous.
Made you order the next round, just out of sheer spite. And you'd barely eaten - just things like cucumber and carrots with hummus and tzatziki - and started to really feel the effects of it.
Made you smile at a stranger like you shared an inside joke when he bumped into Joe and made him spill some of his drink.
Made you ask stupid questions, like why Joe had a cropped photo of him and Poppy framed in his hallway.
"I don't know if you've fully understood the situation, but I can explain it in simpler words, if you'd like?"
Patronising. Joe spoke to you like you were an idiot.
"I am friends with Poppy, and have been friends with her for a looong time. We're family, and sometimes it's nice to have photographs of family up on your walls. Some people think so, at least,"
So very patronising, it was honestly insulting. He was also missing the point. Didn't understand what you meant. He probably wouldn't, even if you explained it, you thought, so you left it alone.
"It's okay if you don't get it," Joe looked down his glass before adding, "if you don't have that same sort of bond with Mark, I don't expect you to understand," and taking a sip.
Too far.
You were getting too intoxicated to just... take shit like this.
"Oh you wouldn't fucking know what friendship was if it stared you right in the face," you challenged.
For a second tonight had been about proving to each other that your friendship with you best friends didn't cross any inappropriate boundaries. Now, however, it was suddenly all about proving to Joe that your friendship with Mark outweighed his friendship with Poppy.
Joe had no fucking idea how bonded you and Mark were.
How you'd gone through absolutely shit in your teens, and how Mark had managed to haul you through, pulling you out at the other end with a lot less scars than you'd imagined beforehand.
How you'd spent years not thinking you'd live past your teens, battered and bruised from trusting people you were told time and time again you could trust. Had to trust. But should've never trusted. How Mark was the one who'd held out a friendly hand and had proven to you time and time again that men sometimes didn't want all the things you weren't ready to give. Weren't willing to hand over.
How Mark had fixed parts of you which you'd redeemed unfixable until he'd gotten all up in there.
How Mark was solely responsible for your strong belief in the power of kindness. The power of true friendship. The platonic soulmates type of shit.
Joe had no fucking idea. And so you told him again, "You wouldn't even fucking recognise it,"
Joe was about to fight you on it, but he felt something had shifted. Saw something in your expression, in your eyes, that made him swallow his words whole.
Joe saw something that made him believe you on your word. Maybe his friendship with Poppy was a small tiny thing in comparison.
"I'm sorry," Joe's features softened immediately upon the sight of you, and it was all kinds of wrong.
Somehow everything felt unfair all of the sudden.
You needed to leave.
Needed to be polite and thank Joe for the lovely evening all sarcastically and leave without a good excuse to do so. Just, get out.
Away from Joe who didn't understand. Who made fun. Who judged. And who was he to fucking talk?
When you hurridly turned, intending to run, Joe gently reached and touched your upper arm. Strong fingers, but somehow a soft touch.
"I need to leave," you said, and without saying anything else, Joe let you go and let you walk out.
No questions asked.
No goodbye from either of you.
The Taglisted: 
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(taglist currently full, sorry)
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maraschinomerry · 1 year
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Matching Mates part 2
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Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, Locklyle
Summary: you and George finally have a first date at the Fittes ball, and it turns out people are more invested in your relationship than you expected.
Content: fluff, anxiety in a crowd, wholesome misunderstanding, fake marriage, first "I love you"
A/N: part 1 here - original request by @toothcereal, part 2 requested by @neewtmas and @poisonquinzell ❤️
Word count: 2.5k
The taxi ride to Fittes was agony. You were nervous enough as it was, having never been to such a large and prestigious event before so not being used to the feel of formalwear. Even the reassuring presence of George beside you, hand in yours to comfort both you and himself (he wasn't keen on the social aspect of this either), wasn't enough to stop your knee from bouncing a mile a minute. Then, of course, there were the two sharklike grins gleaming at you from Lockwood and Lucy in the seats opposite. They'd given up trying to suppress them a few minutes into the journey, and you weren't sure whether you preferred them over the affectionately smug conversation they'd been having without speaking a single word. Honestly, their ability to read each other from facial expressions and body language alone would have been admirable had you not been on the receiving end.
After what felt like an eternity, the cab pulled up. George immediately offered you a hand to help you climb down. Ahead was a queue of guests, all incredibly close and affectionate. Shakily, you linked your arm through George's in the same way Lucy's was through Lockwood's. Together, you all reached the front of the line, where a stern man in a black suit was checking the guest list.
"Lockwood & Co." Lockwood stated.
The man scrutinised the list. "No plus ones?"
"No," Lucy chipped in eagerly. "We're all dating. Not all dating, I mean, two couples."
"Welcome, lovebirds. Enjoy the ball." You wondered absently how Fittes had managed to make such a deadpan person the face of such a romantic event. And then you were inside.
This was by far the most people you'd seen in one place since moving to London. Trailing down the staircases, clustered round the bar, mingling in the open spaces between, were hundreds of couples, all forming their own distinctive pockets within the crowd with their matching outfits. You hesitated on the threshold, slipping from George's arm as he continued forward. The second he realised, though, he turned back and placed a tender hand at your elbow.
"We don't have to do this, (name). Not if you don't want to."
You took a deep breath, distracting yourself from the hubbub by adjusting his tie. "It's okay. This is a big opportunity for the agency." Your hand smoothed down his tie, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath your fingertips. "Plus, it's kind of exciting that this is our first date."
George perked up instantly, almost like he'd forgotten the date was real and not just a ploy for one of Lockwood's harebrained schemes. Seeing him so excited was adorable, and knowing that you were the cause gave you butterflies. He looked into your eyes, silently making sure you were ready, before guiding you into the crowd with his hand still on your elbow.
"See you two are finally official," a familiar voice drifted over your shoulder as you took your drink from the bar. You and George turned in unison to see Quill Kipps with a raised eyebrow and a friendly smirk. Ever the Fittes agent, his grey uniform had been exchanged for a grey tuxedo. The pretty blonde girl beside him wore a sleek grey dress with a slit right up to her thigh.
"What do you mean, finally?" George frowned.
"Just because I'm not a researcher doesn't mean I'm not observant. Haven't even worked together that much and I could tell you were into each other. Everyone could."
As if on cue, Bobby Vernon strolled past in pursuit of a redhead in the same shade of purple as his tie. He paused when he noticed your outfits. "Oh, thank god, you've gone public at last. Ned owes me a tenner now." The redhead had moved on, and Bobby scuttled after her. You forced yourself to close your gaping jaw.
"We… may have taken bets on it," Kipps clarified like it wasn't abundantly obvious. As obvious as your attraction to George, apparently. "I'm pleased for you, though. Especially if it means you're too distracted to poach any more of our cases." The older boy finished with a wink and an encouragement to enjoy the evening before melting into the crowd with his date.
"Are we really that transparent?" you sighed incredulously.
"I don't know," George mused. "I always thought I was coming on way too strong and you just weren't interested, but maybe we're too close to things to have noticed."
"That's a very polite way of calling me oblivious, Georgie."
"Hey, I'm saying I was too!"
"How equitable of you."
The evening ended up being quite enjoyable. Drinks were free, waiters constantly weaved throughout the room with trays of delicious canapés, and you were able to spend most of the time simply hanging out with your friends. At one point, after a speech from Penelope Fittes, a small classical band appeared from nowhere to initiate a Valentine's dance. George offered you his hand, his other coming to rest gently on your waist when you accepted. You brought your free hand up to his shoulder, stepping closer. The dance was slow and soulful, a lifesaver for you and your two left feet. Surprisingly, George was more adept than you expected, taking the lead with confidence. As the song came to an end, the hand on your waist moved round your back to draw you in for a kiss. It was longer than the one you'd shared in the hallway back home, more passionate, but still just as gentle and sweet. Nearby, Lockwood and Lucy were in the same position, lips locked, but they pulled apart a moment earlier and watched you two fondly. As much as they teased you, they were thrilled you'd finally admitted your feelings for each other.
"Excuse me a minute," George murmured, eyeing the arrows for the bathrooms, "I'll be right back."
Even the bathrooms were fancy. George hadn't been at Fittes long enough to attend a ball as an employee, and he'd skipped last year's to study the Bone Glass (he repressed a shudder at the memory) so this was his first time in the agency's ballroom. Everything was so ostentatious, a stark reminder of how much better off he was at Lockwood & Co.
He bumped into someone on his way out and raised his head immediately to apologise.
"Good evening," Penelope Fittes smiled graciously. She was the picture of romance and Valentines in a fluttering rose red gown, real roses adorning her dark hair.
"Ms Fittes, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
"No need to apologise. And call me Penelope, please. It's George, isn't it?"
"Yes. From Lockwood & Co."
Penelope nodded, remembering meeting the team (aside from you) at Samaran Pandy's funeral. "Of course, I'm glad you could all make it. Anthony and Lucy are a couple, I hear." It felt odd hearing Lockwood's first name out loud, but he supposed she would have no reason to know he didn't use it.
"That's right, and I'm with (name), our fourth member. I don't believe you've met." Being able to say he was with you was such a proud moment, he couldn't help but turn to look for you in the crowd. Penelope followed his gaze, picking you out by the outfit which matched the boy in front of her.
"Hopefully I'll get chance to greet them before the end of the night, you know what these things are like when everyone wants to have mingled with you."
George didn't know, but he kept quiet. This was lasting longer than he expected, and it was only a matter of time before he said the wrong thing and got the whole agency banned from future events. Besides, he'd left you alone far too long. Time to find a way out. "Oh, do you need to-?" He gestured over his shoulder to the mass of people.
Penelope waved his concern away. So much for that plan. "Don't worry. To be honest, this is the first proper conversation I've been able to have all evening, and it's refreshing to see you young couples having fun. You remind me of myself and my husband when we were your age. Absolutely inseparable, now he's wandered off and I've no idea where. You'd think a man in a bright red suit would be easy enough to find."
Anxious to get away from the conversation and back to you, George seized the opportunity. "I should let you go and look for your spouse, and I'll get back to mine."
"Oh!" Penelope sounded astonished. George tried to replay what he'd said in his mind to cause such a reaction, hadn't he just said he needed to return to his date? "I didn't realise! How long have you two been married?"
Something broke a little in George's brain. Married?! No, there was a misunderstanding, surely, you'd only started dating tonight. Hell, you'd only known each other for- "Six months."
"That's wonderful, I wish you the very best. But yes, go, enjoy your night with your spouse." Before George could protest, she'd ushered him back into the crowd and disappeared.
George was taking longer than you expected, and you were beginning to panic. Where was he? Was everything okay? Lockwood and Lucy had been swallowed up by the crowd, you wanted to seek them out for reassurance, but what if you left the spot George had left you on and then he couldn't find you? Even Kipps would have been comforting to see right about now.
A hand on your waist made you jump.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," George said softly, before noticing your expression, frantic pupils blown wide and lower lip trembling. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Mhm," you mumbled unconvincingly. "I just…" your eyes scanned the crowd. George put the pieces together.
"(Name), I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long." He curled a hand into your hair, bringing your foreheads together until everything else faded away and all you could see and feel was him. "Come on, let's find somewhere a bit more quiet."
George led you by the hand through the crowd, careful never to put too much space between you that someone could barge through. Eventually the bodies around you thinned out, vanishing completely as you reached an empty grey corridor. You sat down unceremoniously on the floor, relishing in the quiet and the coolness of the wall against the back of your head. George joined you, hand still linked in yours.
"I'm sorry," he repeated urgently. "I tried to get back to you, but I ran into Penelope and she's a remarkably difficult person to get away from."
You could imagine - one of the most powerful women in the country, and one with such a strong connection to the Problem, would be a more than interesting conversationalist. Your curiosity was piqued. "Oh, what was she saying? Was it about the Problem?"
George let out a nervous chuckle. "No, we, uh… we actually talked about love. And you." He let go of your hand to wrap around your shoulder and bring you into his side. In turn you placed your arm across his chest, fidgeting with the button of his now open jacket.
"Me?" What on earth would Penelope Fittes have to say about you?
"She'd like to meet you. Said it's nice to see a young couple having fun, that we remind her of her and her husband." A couple. You both smiled at the notion. Suddenly George blanched, remembering what he'd accidentally implied. "Actually, I should probably explain, in case-"
What George had been about to say was "in case anyone else hears and gets the wrong idea". It was far too late for that.
"Well," that familiar voice came again as Kipps rounded the corridor, alone this time. "I have to say I'm impressed. We all thought you two were just being oblivious or dating in secret, certainly never expected a secret marriage." Your jaw dropped and you turned to George for an explanation, who was looking very red in the face and pointedly avoiding eye contact with either of you. Kipps continued, "Fair play, Karim, (name), you two are full of surprises. Should make cases more interesting in future. Congratulations, anyway." And just like that, he was gone.
You rounded on George. "George Casper Karim, what exactly did Kipps mean about a secret marriage?"
"That's what I wanted to tell you!" His voice was agitated, higher than normal. "I was trying to find a way out of the conversation, and when Penelope said she couldn't find her husband I suggested we both go and look for our partners, but with all the husband and young love talk I might have accidentally said spouse instead."
You couldn't help but laugh. By how worried he'd seemed, you thought something bad had happened or he was having second thoughts, when the truth was he'd unintentionally implied you were married. It was kind of sweet actually, and you couldn't pretend you hadn't imagined what it would be like.
"It's not funny!" George swatted at you harmlessly, which only made you laugh more. "If Kipps knows, he'll tell his whole team, and Bobby will single handedly tell anyone in Fittes who hasn't already heard. And oh my god, if Lockwood and Lucy get wind we'll never hear the end of it." That was a good point. If you thought they were insufferable now…
"Right, okay, we have two options. Either you go and tell Penelope it was a slip of the tongue, and I tell Kipps the same, or we pretend we rushed into it and realised it was too quick so go back to 'just' dating."
George pondered for a moment, playing with your fingers. "There is a third option." He paused as you looked quizzical, and his hand stilled around yours. "We go along with it." He looked so vulnerable as he waited for your reaction, heart on the line and entirely in your hands. You leaned in and kissed him even as your face split into a grin. He kissed you back firmly, excitedly.
"I can't imagine a better person to pretend to be married to," you giggled against his lips. "But on one condition."
"Anything."
"We have to be the ones to tell the others. I want to see Lockwood's head explode when I call you my husband."
George laughed now too, standing and offering you a hand to help you up. "Deal. Come on then, darling, we'd better hurry before Bobby gets in there. And not to come on too strong for a first date, but I figure since we've supposedly been married for six months the timeline goes out the window… Can I get you a ring? Just as a token, no strings attached. We could shop for one tomorrow, if you want."
"I love you," you said suddenly. It wasn't exactly an answer to his question, yet somehow it was.
George blushed, and leaned forward to kiss you once, twice more. "I love you too."
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