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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

(Baby Daddy)

Kirishima would get sooooo soft the second he finds out you’re pregnant.

Big fat tears would fill his eyes, the big man would be still for once in his life as it sinks in “I’m gonna be a dad?”.

Then he’s scooping you up in his arms, hugging you to his chest as he rocks you side to side in the kitchen, kissing at your hair and your forehead and your hands and anything he can reach. You’re crying too, but for entirely different reasons.

When he finally stops crying long enough to lean down and kiss you full on the mouth, he’s too rough, sharp teeth tear open your lip and you sob “Kiri, ow!”

“Oh, oh ‘m so sorry baby! Oh no, oh baby I didn’t mean to hurt you, just got too excited ‘nd wasn’t careful. I’m sorry-”

You don’t want to hear any of it, pushing at his chest and crying harder and harder with each word that falls from his mouth.

“I promise I’ll be more careful from now on, okay? Treat you so good, keep you safe and healthy and-and I’ll rub your feet, and get you whatever you start craving!” He’s already ahead of himself, ecstatic and overwhelmed with the information, hugging you too tight and hurting your joints.

There’s no stopping him.

The sex before was wild and rough, the definition of “bed breaking”.

Kirishima was almost feral, ready to shove his cock into you practically at all times, horny at the drop of a hat. You have to go on your tip-toes to reach a bowl in the kitchen? Kirishima’s slamming you against the counter and ripping your shorts down your legs so he can fuck your thighs, entranced by the little sliver of skin he saw when your shirt rode up.

You’re taking a shower? Kirishima’s bullying his way into the bathroom, practically drooling as he strips down, eyes never leaving your cowering, naked form. He hardly ever preps you well enough, so it always burns when he pushes inside you, but asking him to wait never worked.

A sex scene comes on the tv while you’re taking a nap on the couch beside him and Kirishima just has to wake you up as he pulls you into his lap. Bounces you on his cock while you cry, tired and overwhelmed, groggy and confused at all the sudden stimulation.

Kirishima only sometimes feels bad for finding your tears hot, as you whimper when he stretches you out. But mostly he lets himself enjoy his twisted desires, tells you it’s okay to cry, lays on the physical affection (kisses, petting with his hands, holding you close) extra thick while he’s fucking you just so you’ll sob harder. It makes you clench so deliciously around his dick.

But now? Now that you’re pregnant and carrying his child, the child that the two of you made together?

The man is gentle.

No more bending you over the couch, leaving bruises on your hips, fucking your throat like you’re a cheap whore. No more growling as he ruts into you, rumbling about how you can take it, how he’s going to get you pregnant, that he’ll breed you like a little cow until his seed takes.

Now he takes everything slow, even though it hasn’t even been a month since you’d taken the pregnancy test. You aren’t even showing. But he smooths his hands over your stomach anyway, eyes soft and twinkling before he kisses you softly, watches his teeth.

Kiri makes sure you’re comfortable during sex - he only ever initiates on the bed now, where it’s cushy and soft and you won’t get bruised or hurt. He handles you with careful hands, gently moving you about. The self control he exhibits is something to behold, especially when you can see how much he’s holding back.

He likes fucking you on your side, early in the morning or late at night, when both of you are sleepy and tired. He fingers you open, slobbers all over his fingers first to make sure he doesn’t hurt you, then when you’re good and ready he slides inside carefully, watching your body for any signs of discomfort.

It’s easy, slow rolls of his hips, a gentle buildup to his orgasm. It washes over him so slowly and so gradually that sometimes Kiri doesn’t even realize it, just keeps his rhythm and only stops when he feels his cum squelching out against his balls.

Even though you’re pregnant, Kiri still likes to breed you.

Pushes you on your back and coos softly at you as he hooks your legs over his hips, catches one of your hands so he can hold it romantically, keeping eye contact as he pushes inside you in one, fluid motion. He likes to see the way you clench your jaw, determined to not let out any noise, little huffs of air puffing from your nose.

Likes to snuggle after he cums, soft dick still tucked firmly into your cunt. He doesn’t want a drop to go to waste - waits until he gets hard again before fucking you slowly, making sure that you’re really, truly pregnant.

He gets gross and sappy, enough to make you flush with embarrassment and try to hide your face behind your hands. Leans down to mouth at your breasts, looking at you the entire time, only closing his eyes when they flutter shut from pleasure. “Can’t wait until you’ve got milk, you’re gonna be such a good mama.”

Kiri starts to call you “mama” at every turn. His previous petnames were more cutesy, “Baby” and “Sweetie”, but he likes reminding the both of you just what you are now.

“Feels good mama? Looks like it does-” He’ll tease, rubbing at your clit with a spit-soaked thumb as he pants above your tits, spent cock limp against his thigh, a plug nestled inside your cunt. When you clench and suck it deeper as you cum, Kiri groans, cock giving a little twitch.

“Hey pretty mama, come give daddy a kiss?” As soon as he gets home he’s dropping whatever’s in his hands to grab for you (you learned early on - come when he calls, or else there’ll be punishment). A broad hand always plants itself firmly on your ass, squeezing and kneading your flesh as he sucks at your mouth.

You hate his stupid perfect mouth.

It gets worse and worse as time goes on, as your belly and breasts swell and grow heavy. Kirishima can’t stop himself from latching on like a baby, nursing at you with heavy sucks and teasing licks. You’re so sensitive from all the hormones that you can’t stop your hips from bucking up ever so slightly.

Then you can feel Kiri raise an eyebrow, feel as he drags himself out from under your shirt to wipe away the spit from around his mouth. You don’t have to look to see how hard he’s tenting his pants.

“Can you cum from your tits? That’d be so hot little mama, wanna try?” And then he’s diving back under your shirt, redoubling his efforts in suckling at your chest, using a hand to grope your other tit while he makes a mess of the one with his mouth.

God, he’d just be so insatiable.

At least he’d be trying his best to be gentle.

#Yandere #tw.nsfw #tw.lactation #tw.pregnancy #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #Yandere kirishima #Yandere kirishima eijirou #kirishima #kiri #Kirishima eijirou #Yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #male yandere #yandere eijiro kirishima #dark kiri #dark kirishima #dark Kirishima eijirou #dark Eijirou kirishima

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Help You Out

Words: 3483

Warnings: Massage, Swearing, Smut, Major Dirty Talk (Really Guys What’s New?), Girl On Top, Topping From Bottom, Oral (Female Receiving), Biting, Slightly Possessive Dean, Multiple Orgasms. Think that’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mentions of Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s back hurts after so many nights in different motels, so when he and Y/N are forced to share a bed she offers him a hand to get rid of the ache, will he agree to her help when he’s been so distant with her lately?

A/N: @spndeanbingo Square filled - Motel Room. And a big thank you as always to my amazing beta @negans-lucille-tblr

Dean grumbles something under his breath, shifting awkwardly in his seat as he drives, mere minutes away from the motel. You couldn’t wait to get inside the room and take a shower, you were still feeling a little grimy from the previous motel, but luckily Sam actually seemed fairly impressed with the ones at this motel, and Sam Winchester was very rarely wrong when it came to showers.

“This bed better not be as bad as the last one, my back still hurts, damn lumps, I miss my-” Before he can finish his grumbling complaints, you cut him off already knowing what he’s going to say, safe to say this was far from the first time you’d heard it even in the past ten minutes.

“You miss your memory foam mattress back at the bunker, yes I know, and yes I also know that it remembers you.” You sigh loudly, before continuing with a lighter tone to your voice. “Look Dean, we’re here now, we can sleep for a bit then hit the road in the morning, okay?” You try and reason, doing your best to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Dean wasn’t much fun to be around when he was cranky and tired, nor when he was hungry for that matter. They were two of Dean’s biggest weaknesses. He kept insisting he was fine, but Sam and you had known better.

The two of you climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the main office, where a grumpy looking old man was thumbing through the paper.

“Good evening, could we get a double room please,” you ask as nicely as possible, the guy looks up and barely grunts, so you try a different tact, “two beds. One room.” You tell him, trying to keep the edge out of your voice.

“Only one double bed, one room.” The man tells you barely above a mutter, “take it or leave it.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Dean mutters quietly, turning to walk away from the counter. You frown in confusion looking back at Dean, with the key already in hand as you shake your head at the elder Winchester’s behaviour.

“We’ll take it.” You tell the man begrudgingly, not missing the slight hint of panic that flashes across Dean’s face when he looks back at you. You watch Dean with confusion as he turns and leaves you behind. You can’t put your finger on what the hell is wrong with him, and the last few days it has only gotten worse, but you follow him out of the office regardless.

You both grab your duffle bags from the Impala’s trunk, an uncomfortable silence surrounding the two of you, which was something you weren’t used to when it came to Dean, no matter how grumpy he was the two of you never really seemed to be affected, but the last few days you noticed there had been something that changed between the two of you.

When you stepped inside the room it already looked at least a little better than the last one you’d had to stay in. From what you can see the bathroom is cleaner and the bed looks a lot more comfortable and sanitary, though you were sure not all things would be coming up roses.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa or something,” Dean offers, tossing his bag onto the small sofa, which was most definitely not going to work for a Winchester, not in a million years.

“Don’t be silly, Dean, we can share. We’re both adults. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the sofa, because you couldn’t fit on that even if someone cut your legs off at the knees,” you half laugh, making your way into the bathroom with your own bag. Dean follows you to the doorway and leans against it. “Dean, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay here if you can’t even sleep. And I guarantee you, there is no way that you’re getting any sleep on that couch,” you reason, as you adjust the temperature of the shower and pull the curtain closed.

Dean scratches at the back of his neck and shifts awkwardly on the spot, “I uh, move a lot in my sleep, especially when I’m tired. Wouldn’t wanna hurt you or somethin’. I can just go sleep in the car.”

“Don’t make me throw you on that bed, we both know I can do it,” you warn him playfully, a little confused when you see a blush on his cheeks. You pull off your flannel and drop it to the floor.

“Now go get your butt in bed, please, we can share. But I draw the limit at you watching me get undressed.” You see him shift on the spot again. “I promise, if you get too aggressive at any point then I can sleep on the couch,” you assure him, finally earning yourself a slight nod.

“O-Okay, if you’re sure,” Dean stutters his half answer before stumbling out of the door and closing it behind him.

“So adorable sometimes,” you laugh to yourself, now fully undressed you climb into the shower, letting the hot water take you away for a little while.

By the time you come out from your shower Dean has collapsed on one side of the bed, fast asleep on his stomach, his jeans still clinging to his ankle as he groans something into the pillow his face is squished into.

You can’t help but admire the way he looks, even with his face pressed into the pillow he’s still one of the most handsome men you’d ever met. Those strong legs and the curve of his firm ass in those boxers, or the strong lines of muscle which are more visible in his back from this position, then of course, there’s dimples at the base of his spine that you’d never noticed before. His arms are under the pillow beneath his head, but you can see the defined muscles in them. You’d always had a thing for Dean’s arms, even though you’d tried not to let yourself look for too long, for fear he or Sam would catch you.

You shake yourself from your slight daze and throw your duffle down alongside Dean’s. Carefully tugging his jeans from his ankle and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, before pulling the covers over his body.

You freeze as he shifts in bed, worried that you’ve woken him up, but instead he curls slightly into the covers and onto his side, one arm beneath his pillow as he gets comfortable again. You breathe properly again when he settles, and you climb into your own side, pulling the covers up.

Dean’s body warmth and his light snores eventually lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

You practically jump awake from your peaceful sleep, it takes you a minute to remember where you are, then you hear that noise again, Dean’s angrily grumbling something beside you as he tosses and turns in bed.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, voice still heavy and thick with sleep as you turn to look in his direction.

“Jus’ my fuckin’ back, sweetheart, sorry, go back to sleep,” Dean growls in sleepy irritation, throwing himself onto his back again.

You sigh and sit up, turning on the bedside lamp, “turn over, lay on your stomach. I can give you a massage. I’ve had to do it before, Dean, when I was on a hunt with a friend of mine who fucked up her shoulder.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep. Besides, massages never work on me,” Dean argues, only annoying you that much more.

“Dean, stop arguing, just let me try and help for fuck's sake.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grunts shifting onto his front.

You feel him stiffen beneath you as you straddle his ass, “just shut up grumpy ass. Listen to me, close your eyes and take a deep breath, relax,” you tell him as quietly as you can, trying to keep your voice soft, your ass hovering above his as you lean forwards and firmly grip his shoulders. He’s so tense and as you move your thumbs over his knotted muscles, you can tell you might be here a little while. Dean lets out a groan as you press and rotate your thumbs at the base of his neck, slowly making your way down his spine, digging into the knotted muscles as you move.

Well fuck, that may have been the sexiest noise that you’d ever heard. You try and ignore the way his groan shoots arousal straight between your legs, but you have to bite your own lip when you watch the way his hands fist at the sheets beneath him.

“How’s that feel?” you ask him, just above a whisper as your thumbs press into the muscles around his shoulder blades. Dean turns his head to the side and moans as you press against a particularly stubborn knot. You have to fight with yourself not to roll your hips against his ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve really got somethin’- Oh God,” he groans deeply and you swear your heart is pounding when he continues to talk in that same deep voice. “Your hands are like fuckin’ magic, I’m gonna have to listen to you more often.” He moans again as you move lower, sliding down so you're sitting on the backs of his thighs, your thumbs pressing into the bottom of his spine and the top of that firm ass of his.

You hate how shaky your voice is when you reply and how uncomfortable your panties have become. “Yeah, I guess you will. Glad you’re finally seeing sense.”

“You could charge for this, damn,” Dean rasps, as you lift yourself off of his thighs, terrified he’ll be able to feel how damp your panties are against his skin. You gently pull down the top of his boxers, digging your thumbs into the firm muscles feeling him relax under you. Then your hands move down further, gently pressing your thumbs under the curve of his ass and down his strong thighs.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Y/N,” he all but growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to moan his name, practically biting into your tongue.

You take a deep breath and tap Dean’s shoulder gently before you lose your nerve, feeling the lump pressing at the base of your throat.

“You wanna turn over? So that I can do the front,” you explain just above a whisper, feeling him stiffen beneath you.

“That might not be such a good idea, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice taking on a deeper and rougher tone than before.

“Please Dean, thought we agreed you should listen to me more often,” you joke shakily; even you’re not sure if this is a good idea anymore. You think that you might know the reason he doesn’t want to turn over, but the thought alone only makes you want him to do it more.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rasps, as you sit up a little higher, allowing him to turn onto his back beneath you. As soon as they’re able to, his big green eyes lock on yours, looking a little panicked, and you quickly notice that his face is flushed.

You gasp as you lower yourself into his lap, feeling the impressive bulge that’s currently pressing between your thighs. You do your best to ignore it as you press your thumbs into the front of his shoulders and down his collarbone and over his pecks, before looking into his eyes again. Safe to say that was a big mistake.

His big hands grip your thighs when you involuntarily roll your hips against him, feeling his thickness press against you clit. Your nails sink into his pecs and he moans your name, “feel better, Dean?” you ask barely above a whisper as his hands drag roughly up your thighs and grip your ass tightly, finally pulling a whimper from your parted lips.

“Oh yeah, so much better, sweetheart,” Dean all but growls, nails sinking into your ass as his grip tightens.

You slump forward, letting your hands rest either side of his head as you look into one another’s eyes. “Is this why you’ve been weird around me lately? Because your back hurts? Or does it have more to do with the raging hard on between your legs?” you question him, unable to stop the smirk from curling at your lips when his cheeks blush bright red.

“I uh… I guess the last one,” he tells you quietly, swallowing hard and squeezing your ass harder. You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look down at him, “look, don’t laugh, but I’ve kinda had this… thing for you lately,” he tells you quietly, a look on his face that tells you he’s worried about what you might say.

“Show me then,” you tell him, biting into your grin.

You squeal in surprise when he practically throws you onto your back and is hovering over you seconds later, a smirk stretching over his plump lips.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” Dean all but growls, the nervous side of him has seemingly disappeared as he kisses his way down your neck. You whimper as he sucks a mark into the skin, and drags his teeth over your collarbone, continuing to leave his marks across your body.

Dean settles between your legs and tugs them over his shoulders. You sit up, unable to stop yourself from watching. His eyes remain on yours as his thick tongue moves through your slick, the heat in his gaze makes your stomach roll, and you can’t help but moan his name desperately when his tongue circles around your clit slowly.

Your fingers thread through his hair and your breath catches in your throat when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your wet heat. It’s been ages since you’ve been with a guy, and even longer since you’d been with someone who knew what he was doing - safe to say Dean was a guy who knew what he was doing. With that perfect mouth of his, he's alternating between kitten licks and nibbling and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Dean, get up here, please, I need you inside me,” you whimper as he starts curling his fingers inside you, stroking against that spot which makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and Dean’s groan vibrates through your pussy, causing a shiver to edge its way up your spine.

He finally relents, easing his fingers from inside you and sucking them between his lips, throwing you a wink as he pulls them free with an audible pop.

“Want my cock that bad, do ya sweetheart?” Dean chuckles, kissing and sucking at your skin as he crawls back over your body.

“Yes I do, you dork. Now get up here and fuck me.”

You giggle when he practically pounces on you, his lips immediately finding yours in a frenzied kiss. Dean shifts between your legs and you hook them over his hips as the tip of his cock nudges at your dripping entrance. Your hands grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as he pulls away from your lips letting you both gasp for much needed breath.

Dean sits up on his knees, spreading them with his big hands and pulling you closer until your legs are pressed against his chest and your ass is resting on his thighs.

“Fuck, look at you sweetheart, so perfect, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.” Dean groans as he pushes forward slightly, and you feel your pussy stretch around the wide head of his perfectly thick cock.

You cup your tits, feeling your nails biting at your skin as Dean pushes forward a little further, until he’s fully seated inside you. Dean grips the tops of your thighs as he starts to move, slow and calculated, his grip tightens on you when you try to rock against him.

“Fuck, Dean, more please,” you whine loudly, feeling him hitting that spot repeatedly.

“Don’t worry baby girl, you’re gonna fuckin’ come all over my cock real soon,” he rasps, turning his head to nip at your calf as his thrusts speed up, one of his hands splaying over your stomach, and you swear you can feel his cock bulging under your skin. You look up at Dean in awe, feeling that familiar feeling rising fast, your pussy fluttering and your stomach tightening.

“I can feel my cock against my hand sweetheart, so fuckin’ deep inside your sweet little cunt. You gonna come for me? Wanna watch you bounce on that cock, you gonna do that for me, baby?” Dean rasps as his thumb starts to rub at your clit.

“Oh… oh God! Dean! Fuck anything you want… I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with a silent scream, feeling your entire body go rigid as you gasp for the breath you don’t even know if you need.

You’ve not even had time to come down from your orgasm when Dean rolls you both over, so you’re on top and he’s on his back, a cocky smirk on those perfect lips of his. You slump forward slightly with your hands on his chest, still panting hard.

“So sexy when you come for me,” Dean purrs as you start moving your hips over him, rocking back and forth.

“Love your big cock, Dean, fills me so good,” you whimper, already feeling another orgasm burning just out of sight.

Dean brings his legs up higher on the bed, so his legs are spread slightly behind you. Your nails bite at his skin when you start to rise and fall over him, feeling his thickness fill you and leave you repeatedly, quickly picking up speed. Dean cups one of your breasts and pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The slap of your skin against his mixes with your moans and whimpers and Dean’s grunts and groans.

“Gonna make me come, sweetheart, so fuckin’ close. Can’t wait to fuck you full baby girl, you’d like that wouldn’t you, huh? Wanna feel my come dripping from this tight little cunt? Wanna remember who made you scream like a little slut while we’re drivin’ home, don’t ya?” Dean all but growls, snapping his hips to meet yours with the end of every question. His fucking mouth and his perfect cock have you close to losing your damn mind.

“Yes Dean, please. I want it, wanna feel your cock for days. Give it to me, Dean. I need it, please, only a little slut for you,” you whimper feeling your arms shake as he pulls you flat against his chest.

His grip is unyielding as he grabs your ass tightly in those big hands of his, “gonna fuckin’ ruin you princess, ain’t nobody gonna fuck you like me.” He grunts possessively as his hips begin to slam up into you at an inhuman rate. You’re sure your heart is about to thud out of your chest, all you can hear is Dean and the blood that’s rushing through your ears.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you out of nowhere, squeezing tight around Dean’s throbbing cock. White light explodes behind your eyelids, but Dean doesn’t stop moving until you’re practically shaking on top of him, feeling his come trickling down between you.

“Fuck.” You gasp against his sweat slick chest, feeling his fingers running through your hair as he shushes you.

You’re surrounded by him in the best way, and you can feel your body beginning to calm down.

“One word for it,” he chuckles breathlessly, before finally opening his eyes and looking at you.“You okay?” he asks, voice still deep and thick with something so sexy you involuntarily shiver again as Dean rolls you both onto your sides.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you tell him honestly, watching the grin that spreads across his lips. “So, are you finally gonna quit acting weird around me?” you ask with a teasing smile.

“Probably not, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, in every way possible. Anyway, can’t be that bad if it got us here,” Dean grins, pressing a chaste kiss your lips.

“Well, I guess you got me there. You ever want another massage you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” Dean smirks pulling you against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now sleep, we’ve got an early start. I wanna see if we can make my memory foam remember you too.”

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

Rafael 🥺🥺🥺

CW: Pet whump, referenced implied noncon/dubcon, captivity, isolation, intimate whumper, creepy whumper

Follows this piece where Chris overcomes his freeze response to try and help someone

It’s 2:30 in the morning. The house is cool and silent and still around him as he stands in the master’s library, where the only phone he’s ever seen that wasn’t the small, slim things his master and mistress keep in their pockets or purses or always on themselves.

He’s not allowed in here, books make his head hurt and we wouldn’t want to give you wrinkles in that pretty face from all that squinting, Raf. But he’s here, anyway.

They’re asleep, down the hall, in their room. The both of them, the mistress breathing low and deep, the master softly snoring. He can hear them from here, and it’s a soothing comfort to be able to track their sleep even now.

His heart pounds while he stares at the phone, dressed only in the loose, slightly sheer black pants he’s allowed to wear to sleep, when they have done with him for the night, when he is no longer between them, taken and taking, eyes closed and body repeating patterns while his mind goes somewhere else.

Red bruises darken around his neck and shoulders, the lipstick at least washed away and leaving only blood vessels burst under his pale skin to color it. She loves to leave the lipstick there, and they love to see who can mark him more, counting up the new places, telling who did what by the smear of Rouge, or Addict, or whatever other name she gave to the slim little tubes that littered her vanity.

He lays back for their inspection, smiles up at the mirror they’ve had fixed to the underside of the canopy over their bed, and drifts away while they laugh over and around him. The loser makes the drinks, after, and he gets one, too.

Whiskey and honey-syrup with rosemary, washed down, but the taste never leaves, not all the way. He tastes them when he falls asleep.

If he falls asleep.

Now, he’s clean except for the way he always feels a slight, nearly invisible layer of grime on his skin, and his skin is unmarked except for the bruises they will carefully cover with the turtlenecks he wears in the morning.

He’s clean... except that he is never, ever clean.

His name is Rafael.

Something else was his name, once upon a time. Some other blend of letters, some other murmured syllables spoken on someone else’s tongue. He knows that much - they tell him far more than he has ever asked to know.

They found him, Master and Ma’am, hungry and dirty and cold. You were so desperate for a hot meal, someplace to sleep, you told us you’d do anything. They offered him safety, and someone to care for him, and he got into their car. It’s what he wanted. You wanted to leave it all behind, you know. We gave you the chance.

We offered you a choice, and it wasn’t like anyone else was going to help you, Raf. You didn’t have a soul in the world who even gave a damn if you were alive.

He signed up for this.

Didn’t he?

The voice of the man in the museum comes back to him with his scarred face and soft green eyes. Somebody loved you. They lie to us. Pushing the plastic feather into his hand, whispering numbers to him. Rafael’s neck aches under his collar, throbs with the blood pooling from their teeth tearing at him and telling him he likes it, and he’s never thought to argue before.

But he doesn’t.

On his own, he dreams about softness, he closes his eyes and runs fingertips along his own palm and imagines it’s someone who simply wants to hold his hand. Alone, Rafael thinks about a dim sweet warmth, even as they tell him he wants their too-bright light baring him to hands and teeth like fang and claws, to desire that digs deep and draws blood.

Somebody loved you.

It seems impossible.

They lie to us all.

In the dark of night, with the barest hint of moonlight coming through the great windows along the wall, the saturated purple of the feather is a cool, faded lavender. Rafael rubs his thumb along it, following an instinctive movement. He can see, he thinks, the faintest hint of indents in it, like the man he saw at the museum had been chewing on it. Marks like teeth, like the marks on his side, the way they laugh on either side of him, his mistress murmuring, they could identify us with dental records by that one if we dumped him, darling, and his master kissing her, then him, then laughing too loud, laughing harder when Rafael flinches from the sound and the fear of being abandoned.

They’d found him abandoned and taken him in. They gave him a home and he traded away whatever life he’d had to get it, willingly, happily, wanting to be loved and kept and held.

But... what if that wasn’t what happened, just because they said it was?

Somebody loved you.

He moves closer to the phone, letting his fingers trail over the cool dark plastic, smooth and shining in the dark. His eyes close, and he breathes, in and out. The room smells like old books, and the leather of the chairs in here. Like a candle his mistress insists on lighting once a week in the room.

When they have him in here, he’s blindfolded to keep him from seeing the books.

The man in the museum had been one, he knew it instantly. No collar, though, and not with an owner, but he still... Raf had known. He always knew, and when he’d seen the scar, he’d known that the man wasn’t one, not any longer.

Whispering to him that there is another way to live.

Rafael takes a deep breath, picks up the phone, and swallows back the burst of fear. It’s just a few numbers. It’s just a few words. He can always choose not to go, if they come. He can sign up for this again.

He can take it back.

5. 5. 5. 7. 2. 3. 3.

The click of the little dialpad as he touches the numbers seems impossibly loud, but with each pause between he listens, and he can still hear them sleeping. He’s okay. He’ll be okay.

It’s just some words, a number, a whisper, a plea.

Did somebody love me once, in a way that wasn’t like this?

The phone settles cold against his ear, and he grips the feather in his hand like the medallion of a saint.

He doesn’t know saints. He doesn’t know why that thought came to mind.

Holy St. Anthony, gentlest of Saints, your love for God and Charity for His creatures, made you worthy, when on earth, to possess miraculous powers. Encouraged by this thought, I implore you to-

“Hello?”

Rafael nearly forgets how to speak, between his shock that anyone picked up and the sudden burst of sharp pain that wipes the momentary prayer from his memory entirely. “H-Hello. I-I... I was, I am.. um. I n-need...”

“Do you need help?” The voice is low and compassionate, deep and with an accent he can’t place.

They’ll help you, the man from the museum said.

“Please,” Rafael whispers. “Please, I need-... I need help. I, I need... I need out.”

“I’m going to trace your call,” The voice says quietly. “For the purpose of this conversation, you can call me Heather. I’m a liberated pet and I’m here to help. Do you need a rescue?”

Rafael feels tears threatening to fall, and he clutches the feather as tightly as he can. “I don’t know. It’s not-... It’s not, they don’t-... I’m n-not hurt, I just-”

“You don’t have to be in physical pain,” Heather says, quiet and certain, “to be wounded. I need about sixty-seven seconds more to get your location. Do you want to leave?”

No one’s ever asked.

He swallows. “Y... yes. I don’t want to be-... to do this anymore.”

“Okay. It’s okay, this is what we do. What’s your name and designation?”

That’s easy. He answers thoughtlessly, memorized words falling off his lips like petals from a dying flower. “Rafael, my number is 453266, designation Romantic, Facility 012.”

There’s a pause. “You’ve come a long way.”

He swallows “H-Have I?”

“I’ll explain later. It could take us up to fourteen days to effect a rescue. Will you be reasonably physically safe until that time?”

There’s a scrape in the hallway, a footfall. Rafael’s breath catches as he realizes he forgot to keep listening for their breathing, checking that they were asleep. “Oh, no. I have to go. He’s-... I have to go. Please, please find me, please-”

“I’m killing this number as soon as you hang up. It’s okay. We’ve got you. We just need a little time-”

He drops the phone back into the cradle right as his master appears in the doorway, leaning against it on one arm. His eyes glitter dangerously with reflected moonlight.

“Raf? What was that?”

Rafael swallows, lifting his chin as he turns, putting his practiced flirtatious smile on his face. Head tilt, half-lidded eyes. Let the look of sleepy affection wipe away the terror still crawling over his skin. His master moves towards him, naked but he can do more damage naked than Rafael could do in a set of armor.

“I had a-... a nightmare, a false memory,” Rafael says quickly, and steps to his master, feigning gratitude, warmth, happiness at seeing him. “I don’t know what happened. I w-woke up with the phone at my ear.”

“Hm. You haven’t sleepwalked in a long time.” His master moves past him, looking down at the phone, then back up at Rafael. In the darkness it all seems amplified, every threat a near-murder, a knife held precariously against his throat. “What did you dial?”

“I-I don’t know,” Rafael lies, clinging to him, every inch the pet scared of himself, not of the master. “I just heard beeping when I-... woke up, I guess.”

There’s a pause, and the master hums, picking the phone up, hitting three buttons Rafael doesn’t look at, but he knows - he’s having the phone redial the last number called. Raf closes his eyes, and he prays, to nothing and no one and maybe just to the dark of night itself.

He exhales when the only sound is a woman’s tinny voice stating this number is not in service at this time.

His master chuckles, sounding relieved himself. “Well, no harm done, I suppose. But we’re going to have to tie you to the bed at night again, aren’t we? Keep you from wandering.”

“Is that a promise?” Rafael’s voice is shaking but he drops it to low and husky to cover it, his heart pounding and body frozen as he turns into his master’s body, tipping his head for a kiss.

He hates being tied to the bed.

You love this, Raf. You told us it was your favorite way to work when we found you. But it’s not work anymore, is it? It’s your life.

He hates it.

The man’s voice in his mind again as he slides the feather into his pocket. They lie to all of us.

Nobody loved you, that’s why we had to take you in.

Somebody loved you.

“Honestly, Raf, is that the only thing you think about?” His master’s tone is playful, flirtatious. His voice dips lower and Rafael keeps his smile firmly in place, widens it a little.

Inside his head, he thinks, you wanted me to only think about this. I know I didn’t start this way.

Further back, far enough inside he knows it will never show on his face, he thinks, I thought about dinosaurs instead today. I thought about the feather, and the number, and I thought about how maybe you’re the one lying, and I was the one telling the truth.

I just can’t remember what truth I told.

“Back to bed for you, I think,” His master murmurs, presses a kiss over a bruise. Rafael shivers and pretends it’s from desire and not from the ache. “I’ll get out your favorite ropes.”

He hates the fucking ropes.

“Perfect,” Rafael says, and his voice comes out smooth, and soft. “You know I love the ropes.”

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @vickytokio @wildfaewhump

#whump #intimate whumper #intimate whumpers #sadistic whumpers #referenced dubcon #referenced noncon #defiant whumpee #internally but still #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #memory loss #box boy #rafael is no one's saint #captivity #escape attempt #or rather working up to it #bruises tw

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Note

Hii can i request “Daylight” by Maroon5 for hyunjae 🥺🥺

Daylight | Hyunjae (tbz).

Listening to: Daylight by Maroon 5

A/N: the amount I relate to this though TT . TT I hope this was alright! I wasn’t quite sure what kind of scenario to go for with this song but oh well! Thanks for requesting and I hope you like it <3 <3

-----

"Don't leave."

Hyunjae chuckles, though it comes out empty. His grip tightens over your middle as he pulls you close, "you've said that over ten times already."

"But I mean it."

You sit, cuddled into his lap and legs splayed around him, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck with no intention of letting go so soon. Darkness permeates the walls of your room with a bare slither of the moon highlighting the soft strands framing Hyunjae's face. He ressembles an angel, you think to yourself, and justike an angel, he'll be disappearing from your arms the moment the sun rises the next morning.

"Please don't leave."

Your murmur, again bouncing off his collarbone, almost breaks in the process. One of his hands come up to stroke your hair, "I won't."

"Do you mean that?"

Pulling back slightly to gaze at the seriousness on your face, his eyebrow raises slightly in amusement, "don't go mopey on me on my last day."

You huff, "fine then. Just leave."

"Ah you," he bops your nose in affection, "you're hurting me with your words, Y/N."

"Good. Then maybe you won't leave."

Hyunjae can't help the laughter bubbling up from his lips at that, and despite your sourness you can't help but laugh along with him. It's like heaven, wrapped in Hyunjae's embrace like he's never going to let go. You want to believe that this will last forever, that this particular moment will freeze in time just so that you can be selfish for a little while.

But the glowing neon lights from your digital clock placed on your nightstand says otherwise. They're taunting, almost warning you of the time you have left.

3.45.a.m.

"You're going to be okay right? When you get there?" You ask him after a moment of comfortable silence.

He shifts you in his lap, pressing the softest of kisses under your jaw as he replies, "don't worry about me. Eric will pick me up from the airport," that is followed by a scoff, "wants to show off his new car."

"He bought it himself?"

"He says he does. I don't believe him though."

"Oh please," you nudge his arm playfully, "you're just jealous."

"No I'm not," Hyunjae retorts, nudging your side playfully. You duck away, giggling at the frown on his face before your thumb smoothes over the crease.

He softens, impulsively tuggig you close and imprinting a soft peck on your lips, "I'll miss you, you know."

His words are barely above a murmur, but they ring loud and clear through your ears, enough that it makes your eyes burn with the familiar ache of tears,. Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your hold, hugging him close and wishing that you don't have to let go. Not now, not ever.

He hugs you back, one hand stroking soft circles down the small of your back. It makes you shiver and you sigh into his neck, wondering why life seems so unfair.

"I'll miss you too," you finally say in a small voice.

"Four months," his alto brushes against the shell of your ear, "four months. And I'll be back."

Four months seem unbearable. Almost impossible. You've been doing this long distance thing for so long that it tears you apart and stitches you back together god knows how many times. But you hold on, because Hyunjae is a huge blessing in your life. He's a blessing that you now can't life without and you can't imagine living through your day to day without him.

"Hey," his hand slides up the back of your neck to tug you away, eyes finding yours and lips pressing together at the tears glistening at the corners, the downward tug of your mouth, "it'll be okay. We'll be okay. Unless you know, I die because of some stupid shit--"

"Oh shush. You're so dramatic."

"I know. That's why you love me."

Rolling your eyes and unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face, you dip your head back down for another kiss. Hyunjae's lips mold to yours with a familiarity that causes a series of tingles to shoot down your spine. Gasping silently in his mouth, your hands find purchase in his hair while his travel down to your waist, squeezing softly with affection.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips, before kissing your next breath away. You allow him to, neck falling back against his mouth slowly peppering kisses down your neck.

"I love you too," you whisper back, hold him close. Nosing down your collarbone and peppering a rain of kisses over your exposed skin, it takes him a moment to realize that you're crying, sobbing silently as you clasp the back of his head in an iron grip.

"Hey hey hey," his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away at your tears streaming down your face. His own features soften, eyes glistening with wetness before he brings you into a hug, "hey Y/N, it's okay. It'll be okay."

You know it will. You've managed to make it work for the past three years and honestly you should've gotten used to it by now. But the pain is always fresh, like a wound constantly ripping open every time Hyunjae hops onto a plane and disappears from the space he's carved into your bed.

You hate it. You hate it so much you want to rip your hair off until the pain numbs out the one in your heart.

Dawn arrives a little too soon for your liking, and since you've fallen asleep on Hyunjae's chest in the process of crying, your first thought as your eyelids flutter open is that he's gone. Hands shoot out in panic, almost elbowing the said man in the process.

"Oh!" Your head turns to see a sleepy Hyunjae, blearily blinking back at you through a fog of sleep, "oh," and your body instantly relaxes knowing that he's still here.

"Hey," Hyunjae murmurs, nosing your jaw and leaving a small kiss there, "morning."

"Morning," you whisper back. His hair tickles your nose as he kisses your cheek, "what time is your flight?"

"Nine," he sneaks a glance at his phone before a groan rumbles through him, "should probably start getting ready."

He's right and you nod along, ignoring the swell taking place in your chest like a balloon about to burst with all the sadness you've been stowing away. You help him pack the last of his things and make him breakfast; your eggs are a little more carefully made today, ensuring that his toast isn't burnt and that he gets a side of baked beans to fill him up. Qll the while ignoring the blatant reminder of reality that stands by your door in the form of his suitcase.

He doesn't have to ask you whether you're okay; he feels it, spots the permanent wetness in your eyes even as you laugh at his jokes throughout breakfast, notices the tightness of your knuckles aa you hold onto your utensils as though scared your sanity might slip away at any given moment.

And when it is time for him to say his goodbyes, he shrugs on his jacket and opens up his arms. You don't hesitate throw yourself at him, wrapping yourself as tightly as possible while his mouth presses another soft kiss to the outside of your ear.

"Don't cry, okay?" He peppers a line of kisses along your cheekbone. That only makes you hold him even tighter still, burrowing your face into his chest until Hyunjae manages to cup your cheek to tilt your head up, "I mean it, Y/N."

"Then don't go."

"Oh come on," he scoffs and flicks your forehead lightly, which causes you to yelp, "hey! Not cool."

"That's for being too cute," his hands slip down to rest on your forearms, eyes locking on yours, "now don't cry. Or I won't buy you boba anymore."

"That's an empty threat and you know it," you mutter with narrowed eyes.

Chuckling, Hyunjae then brushes away some stray hairs from your forehead before he leans in to peck the said area, "I have to go. I'm cutting it close."

"I know."

You hug him once more. Just one more, your mind chants in desperation. He pulls back after that before his mouth finds yours in a searing hot kiss -- one that is filled with promises and love and pure affection dripping from his lips -- as you stumble against him, right into your front door.

You're practically breathing into each other when he pulls back, foreheads pressed, "I need to go," he rasps out and you nod, heart dropping to your stomach with dread.

He’s right. So you do what your body is screaming at you not to do. You step back and he grabs onto his suitcase, turning back to look at you with eyes just as wet as yours. And for some reason that makes you feel a little bit better.

“Take care,” your hand lifts to cradle his face, going on your tiptoes for one last kiss. He returns it softly, thumb cradling your jaw as he mumbles out, “you too.”

“Text me when you pass through security,” you say, watching him open the door and fighting to keep yourself from crumbling with every step that widens the gap between your two bodies.

“I will,” he sends you a smile that is supposed to be comforting and yet, still makes you wish that you could rewind time.

“Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When the door closes behind him, your knees give out in the ear-numbing, heart-wrenching silence that swallows you whole.

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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

Follow up (imma make this flexible): Jean (or Klee) gets deathly (just a word you can decide if actually) sick after a mission in DragonSpine and Diluc (or if Klee, Jean and Diluc) take care of her. Hope this works. I might ask for ChiLumi next...Love your work!

I'm just gonna say both Jean and Klee get sick... don't worry, they're okay :) here you go! [got a bit lazy to the end tbh.]

@luciana-scarlet

[[ Mild Injury/Sickness ]]

[[ Summary: After Jean put two and two together about the odd silence from Dragonspine and Klee, she dragged the girl down from the mountain... only to realize she had been affected by the cold, just as badly as she was, and was only just lucky enough to be saved...

Word Count: 1'771 ]]

When Jean didn't get word from Dragonspine for a week, she didn't think much of it.

When she didn't get word from Klee for a week, she got a little worried.

When she didn't get word from Klee OR Dragonspine for a fortnight?

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"I'm going to be gone for the next two days, Klee must've gone to see Albedo and... Well, you know what happens."

Kaeya was only amused.

"My, I didn't expect you to jump to conclusions like that... Oh well, I'll keep everyone alive while you're gone."

Jean had then taken the long walk to Dragonspine, bundled up and warm as can be, and as soon as she got to the camp at the base of the mountain...

"Oh, Albedo had brought that little girl up the mountain to... Actually, I don't know, something about 'Jumpty-Dumpty's, or something like that. He left this morning."

It had been noon, past noon by that point... did these people really not think about anything that wasn't right under their noses? Oh, oh... No, no, she shouldn't think like that. Dragonspine has always been a precarious settlement, a threat to everyone who came, but always holding memories of a forgotten past. Of course they were more interested in that than the Chief Alchemist and a little girl who liked following him around.

It wasn't exactly that she distrusted Albedo, but more than once he blacked out from not eating, he had stayed awake until he was 'seeing sound', and got incredibly confused when he could not feel, and his skin was paler than ever.

In the end, he didn't have the best understanding of human needs.

Jean immediately had found her way up the mountain, following the tracks not yet filled by the everfalling snow...

And it took hours, hours, of Jean searching, the cold seeping past her coat and to her flesh, deep into bones... if she never had to come to Dragonspine ever again, it'd be too soon.

She found Albedo, and Klee, who insisted on not wearing her coat because 'I'm not cold!' and Albedo, bless his foolish heart, didn't realize that was an issue. For being a genius, he was a bit of an idiot.

So she took Klee, and that was the last thing she remembered, only flashes as she continued onwards.

She remembered hearing someone concern over her, but she knew better, she needed to return to Mondstadt, the child heavy in her arms.

The distant smell of sweetness in the air.

The silhouette of a building she felt was familiar.

Being carried.

Being warm.

Being too.. damn... hot.

She found herself sweltering, as her vision began to adjust... In her arms, Klee was wearing a t-shirt that was far too large for her, Jean herself was wearing clothes that were incredibly soft and silky to the touch, but not hers.

Weakly, she pushed herself up, looking around the room. She couldn't recognize any of it, but it was all quite darkly colored, blacks and dark reds, everything pushed to the walls, even the bed was pushed to one wall, leaving much floor space.

Klee whined in her sleep as Jean completely sat up, pushing the blankets off of her in a fit- a fit! She... she felt so foolish, but it was so... so... hot...

She tore the shirt off, holding it in a fist as she tried to gasp for air, fanning herself with one hand, gods, she felt horrible... She was just on Dragonspine, why was she...

"Hypo... thermia..." She muttered, softly. She got hypothermia. As she looked over to Klee... she knew she had it, too... Of course she did, she declared she wasn't cold on Dragonspine, it must've been from freezing so much she couldn't understand hot and cold anymore. Moving her hand over to the child, she ran her hand along her arm... and then grabbed her wrist, pressing two fingers to the base of her palm...

A pulse. Well, of course she was alive, she was breathing well, but her pulse was weak.

Hypothermia, hypothermia, Archons forsaken Hypothermia!

She just wanted to make sure Klee was safe, and... oh, she felt horrible, but she almost wanted to blame Albedo... he didn't know better, he had no malicious intent, but... A cruel part of her mind just didn't want to understand that... sometimes things happened just by chance, not by anyone's fault.

The door to the room clicked, slowly beginning to open, and then was pushed open, and Jean held her breath in pure shock, arms covering her chest in panic, but--

Diluc.

He looked at her with surprise, and in his arms was her and Klee's clothes, folded neatly... likely cleaned.

"I..." He said, intellegently, but he didn't elaborate for a good moment, walking to a dresser to set the clothes on it, before he began to speak, as though the clothing in his arms affected his ability to think, "You were delirious." He said, "And weak," he walked over to Jean, resting the back of his hand on her forehead, "... Do you feel alright?"

Jean lowered her arms, she felt... bare, but alright.

"I feel hot." She admitted.

"You feel cold," He took his hand back, and shifted to sit on the bed near her, "You... and Klee, have hypothermia. I- Don't think it's too severe."

She sighed, and flopped back onto the bed, prompting Diluc to jump a little in surprise.

"I figured," Jean sighed, her head lolling to the side. Klee was still dead asleep, curled up, her feet wiggling in her sleep... she was probably dreaming of bombs and crisped fish and fire.

Diluc shifted for a moment on the bed, and took the liberty of grabbing the blankets and tossing them back on her, "I apologize for... changing you. Both of you. I figured it was the best thing I could do."

Jean was quiet for a moment.

"It's alright," she said, quietly, "I know you just wanted to take care of us."

There was a moment of silence, and Diluc sighed softly.

"... You scared me," he said, genuinely, "You weren't making any sense."

Jean, once again, sat up, "What?"

"You were tripping over yourself," he wouldn't look at her, just at his lap, "And when you spoke, it was... jibberish at best. Then you just... hit the ground, protecting Klee as you fell."

It seemed, even in her worst moments, she still knew to protect anyone and everyone.

"... I..." She swallowed thickly, but suddenly she felt the bed shift, and her entire form being jostled, everything... She almost wanted to think it went white, but truly, it was more like she skipped through time.

When she was back, it seemed it was only a few seconds. and Diluc was holding her tight, his face buried into her shoulder, and she was frozen... unsure, but she eventually found herself wrapping her arms around him, weakly relaxing without the energy to cling to him as tightly as he did to her, as though she would fall into the abyss and be consumed wholly if he let go.

"Don't," he warned, "Don't do that again. Don't scare me again." He said, with no small amount of fear and distress in his voice, how choked up it was... barely keeping himself from sobbing.

She held onto him a little tighter, but only for a moment, her arms went completely slack... she was so tired, she couldn't hug him at all. Suddenly, it all hit her, the world was so cold outside of Diluc, the cool air nipping at her bare flesh...

He let go of her, and gently lay her down to rest, "I... I think you and Klee should eat before going back to sleep. I thought some soup would be enough... warm you both and get some nutrition into you."

Jean looked down at Klee for a moment, "That... would be best." She muttered, and there was a moment of hesitation before Diluc stood,

"I was already in the process of making some," he said, "Wake Klee, please... I don't think she'd be happy to see me."

"Alright," she knew better than to press, Klee had always openly expressed that Diluc wasn't... exactly her favourite adult. He was odd, and 'scary'...

... Jean remembered when she and Diluc were young, and for some reason, he was absolutely terrifying. She understood now, it was just that the difference scared her. How funny it was...

As she gently began waking Klee, the girl, while awake, was not pleased to be awake, and whined until Diluc brought food, tossing a towel over her lap, then giving both a bowl. He sat in the other half of the bed, as though it was meant for him [Now that Jean thought about it... the room reminded her of Diluc to a great degree. Did he truly just tuck her and Klee into his own bed?]

It was quiet, and after Klee half choked while guzzling down her soup, she curled up beside Diluc, and quickly began to doze off, Diluc idly patting the top of her head.

"I should leave you two to sleep," he said, softly, "You've both had a long da-"

"Noooo..." Klee whined, "Warm, red man warm..." She nuzzled into Diluc's side, he only able to helplessly stare, and then he looked up at Jean, quietly echoing her,

"Red man?"

"Red hair," Jean explained, "I don't have any issue if you're alright with staying."

He never was very good at touching people, "Alright,"

He was so again- Wait, what?

Jean stared for a moment, opening her mouth to speak... But she just sighed and chuckled softly, shifting to lie down properly, "Come, I'm cold too... No amount of blankets can fulfil the warmth of another human body." She held her arms open for him, and he looked down at Klee, shifting her to Jean's arms, despite her sleepy protests, and Diluc lay back down, Jean pushing both of them to Diluc, squishing all three into a too-small space in a bed that could easily have enough space for all three to hog all the space they could ever want.

Diluc adjusted so she could rest her head on his arm, she pressing a brief kiss to his arm before resting her head on it, a sleepy smile on her face...

Maybe, maybe next time she had to go to Dragonspine, she could be a little bit selfish, and ask for him to warm her.

He had a nice bed.

He was good at cooking.

He was warm...

And he was a very good cuddler.

#genshin impact #diluc #klee #jean #jeanluc #luciana scarlet #bark writes #request #hurt and comfort #fluffy bark #fluff #// sorry this took so long #// not a lot of klee content but tbh i just wanted to finish this im rlly tired.#// BARK WANTS BED

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 8 | Now where are those blue sweaters you always wear?

A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter: Tom and Vivian take some big steps.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

Tom moaned as Vivian’s hand cracked against his upper thigh. He turned his head back and forth, trying to discern where she was standing through his tie over his eyes. After a few playful swats with a tennis racquet, Vivian switched to her hand.

“Do you like that, my baby boy?” Vivian purred. She stalked around him. Her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Tom was bent over the end of the bed. His skin red and cock throbbing.

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice hoarse and breathy. “I love it.”

Vivian stood behind him and ran her nails up the back of his legs. It stung when she hit his thighs and ass. Her dress teasing along his legs. She shoved her heel against Tom’s bare foot and widened his stance, slipping her hand between his legs and tugging on his cock.

“Oh, sunshine.” Vivian uttered in mock surprise. “Such a naughty boy getting excited.” She tugged again. Tom lurched forward.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Tom smiled as Vivian continued to fondle his balls.

She removed her hand and Tom whimpered, earning a swat to his right ass cheek. The bed creaked as Vivian crawled onto it. She situated her legs by Tom’s arms.

“Hmm… I don’t know if I believe you. I thought you were an actor.” She hooked a finger under Tom’s chin and jutted it up. Her breath hot on his cheek. “Prove to me how sorry you are.”

Tom reached for the tie, but Vivian swatted his hand away. “You don’t need to see to pleasure me.” She placed his hand on her inner thigh and dragged it to her core. “Feel your way, sunshine.”

Tom licked his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

He placed both hands on Vivian’s thighs, sliding down to cup her ass, and pulled her down until she is at the edge. He dropped to his knees. Tom rucked her skirt up and his fingers trailed along her skin until he found her folds, wet.

“No panties, ma’am? All day?” he asked. Vivian grabbed his head by the chin. He couldn’t see, but her lips curled into a smile.

“Does that excited you, sunshine?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Continue.” She pushed his head back between her legs.

Tom licked along Vivian’s folds and sucking her clit gently. His only sign of whether Vivian was enjoying it were the soft moans and whimpers she let loose.

“Such a talented mouth.”

“And talented hands, ma’am.” Tom added as he plunged two fingers into her.

“Very talented.” Her hands clenched the sheets of Tom’s bed.

Tom redoubled his efforts. Her walls fluttered against his fingers as they curled inside of her.

“I’m cumming, Thomas!” Her walls clenched around him. Tom continued to lick as she gushed against him.

Vivian panted while Thomas’s fingers overstimulated her. She grabbed him roughly by the hair to stop him. He smirked at her and she recognized underneath that tie, his eyes sparkled. His cock leaked onto her dress. She pulled off the tie. Tom blinked at the flood of light.

He crawled up Vivian’s body and kissed her. His tongue and lips tasted of Vivian’s arousal. Tom bucked against her. She chuckled.

“You don’t think you get to cum, do you?”

Tom’s face fell. He bit his bottom lip. He took several moments to cool himself down. “No, ma’am.”

Vivian kissed his forehead. His shoulders relaxed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Tom hissed as he slipped into the scalding water. His feet wanted to slip on the bottom of the tub. He lowered himself between Vivian’s legs.

“Relax, sunshine.” She pulled his shoulders back to allow him to rest against her. She kneaded the knots in his shoulders, rubbing oil along his skin.

“I should be doing this for you.” Tom groaned.

“Nonsense.” She pushed on a particularly stubborn spot. “I’m here to take care of you.” Tom winced. “You’re mine and it is my responsibility. My pleasure to take care of you.” She slid her hands down his torso and around to his front to rest on the tops of his thighs.

“I could get used to this.” His toes wiggled as he slid down against Vivian. His feet stuck out of the water up by the faucet.

“You need to get a bigger tub.” She giggled. Her hands slid inward. Tom’s head fell back as Vivian’s fingers stroked his cock under the water.

“I’ll put it on the list of things to change about the house.” Tom croaked.

Vivian squeezed tight and jerked. Tom shuddered under her touch. He wasn’t going to last long. “You have a list?” She purred in his ear. “Tell me the list, sunshine.” She swirled her hand along the tip.

“Right now, ma’am?” He sipped in his breath, concentrating on not cumming.

“Yes, right now. If you tell me the list, you can cum at any time during it. Otherwise,” She moved one hand to cup his balls. “I choose when you cum.”

Tom sputtered. “Yes, ma’am. The kitchen…” Vivian sunk her teeth into Tom’s neck and sucked hard. “… the kitchen needs updating. New cabinets and appliances.”

“Perfect for making me breakfast.” Vivian nipped her teeth on his ear. “Continue.”

Tom shifted on his bottom as Vivian sped up. He gripped the sides of the tub. “God, that feels good. And I thinking of adding on another guest bedroom and perhaps a study.” One of Vivian’s hand snaked up and pinched his nipple. Tom moaned as he came in the tub, spurting as Vivian continued to stroke him.

He slumped against her body. “Good boy, sunshine.” She kissed his back. “Let’s clean you up and sleep.”

Tom nodded, sleepy already as Vivian scratched the back of his head.

Vivian woke before Tom the next morning. She pulled on one of his t-shirts, inhaling the lingering cologne smell on the fabric, and padded to the kitchen. After fifteen minutes of fiddling, she figured out Tom’s espresso machine; googling the instructions. She clicked open her phone and noticed her voicemail and text message notifications. At least half of them were from Ashley and her mother. She listened to the first one.

Ashley’s voice shrieked out of the speaker and Vivian held the phone a few feet away from her face. “So when you said your boy looked like Tom Hiddleston, you weren’t lying! When were you going to tell me?!? I’m your best friend and I deserve to—” Vivian cut off the message.

She listened to her mother’s first message next. “It’s so nice to see you in a relationship, honey. This Tim Huddleston is quite a handsome bloke. Call me, your dad and I would love to meet him.”

She rolled her eyes and made a mental note to call her mother this week and make a lunch date for the weekend. Without Tom. The rest of the messages were from acquaintances and former friends. One of them was Jonathan. She deleted that one and blocked the number. Luke was kind of enough to check in on her. Vivian sipped her espresso, nodding in satisfaction before deciding to buy a machine for her own apartment. As she settled in the living room in one of the leather club chairs, curiosity got the better of her.

“How bad can it be?” she muttered. Famous last words. The headline read: TOM HIDDLESTON STEPS OUT WITH MYSTERY BRUNETTE.

Tom found Vivian curled in the chair, scrolling on her phone.

“Darling?” He came behind and kissed her head, glancing at the screen. “You didn’t…”

“They hate me.” she muttered.

“You shouldn’t have looked.” He moved to kneel at her feet. Tom pulled the phone from her hands, placing it on the table. “They don’t know you.”

“And your last girlfriend was prettier and more talented. And no one understands why you would find me attractive.” Her affect flat.

Tom rubbed her legs. “Please, darling.” His eyes welled with tears seeing Vivian like this. Not cool and collected woman that caught his eye in the bar.

Vivian gazed down at Tom at her feet, distraught at her mood. “I’m sorry, sunshine.” She petted his hair and rubbed his neck. Vivian exhaled her breath and inhaled sharply, coming back to herself. “You are right. And I should have listened to you. And Luke. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Tom laid his head in her lap. “I hate to see you upset, ma’am. It hurts.”

“I know. I hate I upset you. It hurts me too.” It wasn’t a lie. Play was one thing, but it broke Vivian’s heart seeing Tom like that. “I will do better.” She pulled his head up and nudged him to sit on her lap.

Vivian cupped Tom’s face. He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You aren’t going to run, are you?” Tom asked. “People usually run.”

Vivian sighed. “No, sunshine. I’m not going to run. If I can handle corrupt CEOs and bigoted judges, then I can handle some online comments.” She kissed him. “You’re worth it.”

Tom kissed her back, insistent but not pushy. “You are worth it too.”

Tom’s stomach rumbled and Vivian’s soon followed, breaking the mood as Tom chuckled.

“I can make some breakfast.” He stood. Vivian grabbed his hand.

“Let’s go out for breakfast. My treat. I think we have both earned it.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “You realize there are at least two paparazzi stationed across the street as we speak. We can stay here.”

Vivian sized up Tom, unsure if this was defiance or something else. He shifted from side to side under her gaze.

“Let them have their pictures, sunshine. But if it bothers you, we can stay in.”

Tom shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve learned to ignore it.”

Vivian stood and wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his bare chest and admiring the mark on the back of his neck from the tub last night.

“What would you say about really giving them scandalous photos?” Her teeth nipped hard at his skin.

“Public sex is a hard limit for me.” Tom replied.

“Not what I had in mind.”

“How mad will Luke be at me?”

“You let me handle Mr. Windsor.” Vivian waved off Tom’s concern. She grabbed behind his neck and pulled him towards her. “But I am going to need to use your body for a bit.”

“My body is yours, ma’am.”

“Good answer, sunshine.” She pulled him and her onto the couch, Tom straddling her lap. “I want everyone to know you are mine.” She tugged the back of his head and sucked hard onto Tom’s neck. He moaned, chin tilting up to expose even more of the skin.

“I’m yours, ma’am.” Tom’s hips rocked against her.

Vivian pulled back, satisfied with the mark on his neck. “And I’m yours, sunshine. One more should do it.”

She moved down to his collarbone on the opposite side and again sucked on the skin until a dark mark appeared. Vivian smirked at Tom, who still rocked against her. His cock hard and dripping.

“Baby…” She cupped his face. “What are you doing?”

“Um…” Tom’s hips stopped rocking. “… nothing. Ma’am.” His head dropped.

“Let’s go find you a shirt to show off in.” She patted his ass as they both got up and headed upstairs to get dressed.

Tom was wrong. There were five photographers across the street. Who were now all scrambling for the best shot of Vivian kissing Tom with her hand on the back of his neck. Tom’s skin pricked at the exposure to the warm summer morning air. Vivian selected one of Tom’s older shirts from the back of his closet.

“How come you never wear this anymore?” She held up a well loved red plaid shirt.

“You can practically see through it for one.”

“It’s perfect.” She shoved the hanger at Tom. “Now where are those blue sweaters you always wear?”

“I am definitely stealing your sweaters from now on.” She purred as they parted, rubbing his chest. Vivian pushed the sleeves of the blue sweater up past her elbows.

“I’m hiding them as soon as you go home, darling.” Tom smiled, lacing his fingers with hers.

“Then maybe I just move in, darling.” She joked, squeezing his hand. Tom stopped in his tracks. Vivian panicked. “I was kidding, darling.”

“Why don’t you?” Tom responded, his toe pushed a pebble along the sidewalk.

“We haven’t been together that long, Tom. I don’t want you to say yes just because. I want you to want it.”

“I want it. I want you, darling.” He pulled her close. “I want this. All day.”

Vivian realized the cameras were still there. “Let’s discuss this over breakfast. This is not talk for the sidewalk.”

Tom kissed her lips. “Of course. I know just the place around the corner.” He dragged her along the sidewalk with a gigantic smile on his face.

To no one’s surprise, Tom ordered the brunch fry-up while Vivian order the only slightly more sensible French toast. She convinced herself the green juice counteracted the copious amounts of sugar and bacon. Tom ordered a double espresso shot.

“Because you need more energy, darling.” Vivian kidded with him. She didn’t mind him drinking all the caffeine as long as it didn’t interfere with sleep.

“Let’s not change the subject. You moving in, why not?” Tom sipped from the ridiculously tiny cup made even more ridiculous by his enormous hands.

“It’s a big, no tremendous step, Tom. What if you get sick of me? What if this is just a phase?” Vivian listed off reasons why not to do this, even as her heart said otherwise. “It would make things messy.”

Tom sat next to her, listening intently to her. “I hear you. But the fact of the matter is,” He took a deep breath. “I love you.”

“You don’t need—”

Tom held up his hand. “I will respect whatever you choose. I want you to be happy. But let me say, I am happiest when you are with me. And I would like to have that feeling as often as possible.”

Vivian slumped back in her chair, turning Tom’s words over and over in her brain. This was not how she planned on things going.

“I love you too. And I’m not going to lie, the thought of moving in with you is daunting. It is one thing to play and go out and about. I’ve never done this 24/7, living with my submissive, darling.”

Tom smiled. “I am more than willing to be your guinea pig.”

The server placed their food on the table.

“If you are in, then I am in.” Vivian blurted. “I guess I am moving in.” Tom moved in to kiss her. “On a trial basis. I’m keeping my apartment in Camden.”

Tom nodded. “Of course, darling. And I will be leaving in about three weeks to film in America. Plenty time for a trial run.”

“Perfect.” Vivian took a big bite of French toast. She nudged Tom’s fork towards him. “Eat up. You’re going to need your strength, darling.”

“To help you move boxes?” Tom asked, eating his toast.

“To help me celebrate.” She squeezed his thigh.

Vivian chastised Tom twice during brunch to slow down eating.

“Darling, if I have to remind you to chew your food one more time, I will make you edge for a week straight the moment I move in.”

Tom coughed and swallowed his food. “Yes, ma’am.” He took more reasonable bites.

Vivian rubbed his thigh, fingers grazing his cock through his jeans. “Good boy. We have plenty of time when we get back to your house.”

“Our house, ma’am.” Tom corrected. “Sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay. Everything is still so new.”

“But exciting.” Tom’s eyes perked up as he finished up his food.

She scratched the back of his neck. “I love seeing you excited like this. Like a kid on Christmas morning.”

“My favorite time of year. I can’t wait to share it with you.” He leaned into her touch, placing his head on her shoulder and sighing.

Vivian paid the bill, and they headed back. Tom made a big show of dipping Vivian and kissing passionately.

“Are they taking the picture?” Tom muttered against her lips.

“Can you not hear the shutters clicking?”

“I’ve learned to tune it out.”

“I’m taking you home. And fucking your brains out.” Vivian whispered in Tom’s ear.

“Then what are we doing here?” Tom righted Vivian.

“Pissing off Luke.”

They both laughed the rest of the way home. As soon as the door shut, Vivian dropped her bag.

“Strip and assume the position for inspection. In the bedroom.”

Tom hurried away, glancing over his shoulder as he undid the buttons of his shirt. Vivian took her time removing her shoes and then her jeans, leaving the jeans on the chair and heading to the bedroom.

“Good boy.”

She beamed as Tom stood in the middle of the room, naked. His clothes folded neatly and placed on top of the dresser. Tom’s hands behind his head and feet apart. His cock already bobbed. Vivian ran her hand from Tom’s shoulder down to his ass, giving a cheek a smack at the end. The sound echoed off the walls.

“I bet you could bounce a quarter off that ass, sunshine.” Her fingers trailed around Tom’s hip, teasing along his treasure trail and up his chest.

“Would you like to try, ma’am?” Tom didn’t move an inch.

“Another time.” Vivian jerked his head by the chin. “Mouth.”

Tom’s mouth fell open. Vivian pushed two fingers into his mouth. Without thinking, Tom closed his mouth and sucked on her fingers, humming against her.

Vivian’s body tingled. “On your back, sunshine.” She removed her fingers with a pop.

Tom crawled onto the bed and settled against the pillows. He licked his lips as Vivian slipped her panties off, leaving the sweater on.

“Condoms?” Vivian raised an eyebrow.

Tom shuffled through both nightstands. “I forgot to buy them last time, ma’am.” His face fell.

“I have contraception. Are you clean?”

Tom nodded his head, not speaking, afraid of jinxing what he hoped Vivian was going to say next.

“I guess I can make an exception this one time.” She crawled onto the bed, straddling his hips. “for this special occasion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom’s hands moved to grip her hips.

“And…” She pressed against his chest, nibbling on his earlobe. “you have permission to cum.”

Tom squirmed underneath her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Vivian lowered herself onto Tom and he groaned the entire time.

“Fuck!” he hissed. Vivian slapped his thigh.

“Language, sunshine!” she giggled.

Vivian rocked back and forth on Tom’s cock. Tom guided her back and forth. Sex with a condom was good but without Tom wasn’t sure how long he would last feeling every inch of Vivian. His hand found her clit and rubbed it.

Vivian leaned forward, flattening his hands against Tom’s chest. “Oh, baby.” She moaned. It was going to be hard to go back to condoms after today.

The coil inside of her core tightened. “I’m close, sunshine. Are you close?” Vivian panted.

“Yes, ma’am.” His hips snapped up into her. One hand snaked underneath his sweater and tweaked Vivian’s nipple through her bra.

“Yes!” Vivian’s head fell back. As her walls clenched Tom’s shaft, he thrusted once more and spilled into her.

Tom slumped onto the mattress while Vivian fell against his chest. Tom’s softening cock slipped out of her and she slid down to Tom’s side. He wrapped his arm around her.

“I love you, ma’am.” Tom kissed her temple as her chest still heaved.

“I love you too, sunshine.” She peppered his chest with kisses, taking care around the hickey on his collarbone. “I love you so.”

“Welcome home.” Tom smiled, and they drifted off into a late morning nap.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #follow my lead

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aalissy · 3 years

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Winter Storms and Hot Chocolate

Whew, I'm finally getting another one-shot posted hehe. And it's about Adrienette too!! I love these two dorks soo muchhh <3. I hope you guys like them too :). Lemme know what you think! A sleepy, cuddly Marinette is my fave hehe

AO3

Marinette stood at the door of the bakery, glaring at the snow that was quickly transforming into a fierce blizzard. Turning her phone on, she checked the weather, groaning to herself when she saw that a freak snowstorm was set to happen today.

Marinette bid her parents goodbye with a quick glance over her shoulder before ducking out of the shop. She shivered as soon as she got one foot out the door, the vicious cold already making her wish she was back at home in the warm, comfortable bakery. With a small whimper, she continued down her path, determined to make it to her favorite fabric store.

The terrible weather had affected her much more since becoming Ladybug and even waking up this morning took her years. Marinette had barely registered the sound of the blaring alarm and needed Tikki to shout at her in order to wake up. Practically stumbling out of her bed, she bundled up into thick fleece, itchy wool, and layers of cotton. Even still, it did little to help the drowsiness coursing through her bones.

Just one second. Let me close my eyes for just a second. I’m only going straight for the next few metres. It’s okay, Marinette thought to herself as the time between her blinks grew longer and longer. She barely realized it when she was walking down the street with her eyes closed. Suddenly, her eyes flew back open when she crashed directly into someone’s chest, the both of them letting out a startled groan. The only reason the two of them were standing upright and hadn’t fallen into a heap on the ground was because of the warm—and welcomingly familiar—grip the person had on her shoulders.

“Marinette?” asked a smooth and recognizable voice. “Are you alright?”

She looked up in surprise, seeing blonde hair and brilliant, green eyes. Her brain worked furiously for a moment, her forehead scrunching as she tried to focus on the boy in front of her. “A-Adrien?” Marinette asked after a few moments of thinking.

“Yeah,” his head tilted curiously. “You look exhausted. Are you trying to get home?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I just left actually. I’m trying to get to the fabric store to get some new stuff for your guys’ Christmas presents.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her. Eventually, he sighed lightly, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he began leading the two of them somewhere. “Come on, let’s go and get you warmed up first,” he said with a worried smile. “You shouldn’t be stumbling around in the cold like this.”

“Mmm, has anyone ever told you how warm you are?” Marinette murmured blearily, snuggling further into his grasp. The delicious aroma of cinnamon and lavender wafted around her and she squeezed him tighter.

Buried in his chest as she was, she missed the soft look Adrien gave her. She did hear his deep chuckle, though. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “But no, I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

“They should. You make a really nice pillow,” she smiled happily, barely aware that she was speaking. Adrien gave another hearty laugh but didn’t respond.

The two walked in silence for a few more moments, Marinette’s eyes closing fully as she let her crush guide her along, relaxing into his hold. It wasn’t until she heard the sound of a tinkling bell that her eyes were able to open again. She was surprised and greeted by the warm atmosphere of a café. A small smile spread across her face as she took in the welcoming aroma of delicious coffee and hot chocolate. She felt Adrien gesture her forward.

“After you,” he smiled.

Walking into the cozy building, the designer finally felt a little bit more awake. Stopping suddenly inside the entrance, she snuck a peek back behind her. The model was still standing there, smiling gently at her. Her gaze snapped back forward again, her cheeks flushing a bright red.

Oh my god, so this isn’t a dream, then? I actually bumped into Adrien and told him he made a good pillow?! No, no, this can’t be happening!!

Pulling on her pigtails once, Marinette quickly took a seat by the window, gnawing on her lip as she stared out into the snowy world that taunted her. Gulping quietly, she peeked up at Adrien from beneath her lashes as he slid into the seat across from her. He peered back at her, a look of concern on his face. “Are you alright, Marinette?” he asked. "You looked really tired today. Are you sick?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just sleepy. Winter is really not my season.” She gave him what she hoped was a wide, reassuring smile.

“Is that why you keep falling asleep in class then?” he teased her, his green eyes shimmering playfully.

Marinette’s cheeks darkened and she ducked her head shyly. “Maybe,” she giggled nervously before tapping her index fingers together.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Adrien grinned softly back at her. “I actually know someone else who doesn’t do too well in the cold.”

“Y-you do?” she tilted her head as she looked at him curiously.

“Yeah,” his gaze drifted away from her and out the window as he nodded his head slowly. “One of my best friends absolutely hates the snow.”

“Nino hates the snow, really?” Marinette blinked at him a few times. “I had no idea.”

Adrien chuckled at her, shaking his head, “No, no, not Nino. Nino actually loves the snow. He says it helps his creative process.”

“Yuck, really?” she asked, scrunching her nose at the thought. “I barely get anything done during wintertime. I’m too sluggish.”

“My friend says the same thing!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening as he looked back at her. “She moves so slowly and says that you’re meant to stay at home, buried deep under the covers whenever it starts snowing.”

“Your friend is smart,” Marinette giggled. “I’ve said that exact same thing before.”

Her thoughts drifted back to her partner. Chat Noir was there during the cold, windy nights where she had to brave the winter weather for patrol. He was always equipped with two cups of hot chocolate and a blanket that they shared to warm up before heading off to watch the city.

With a quiet, happy sigh, Marinette was suddenly hit by a large craving for the hot chocolate Chat always brought for her. So, when their waiter finally arrived, she chirped out her order cheerfully, “One hot chocolate please.”

She was somewhat surprised, however, when Adrien ordered the same thing as her. “I’ll take a hot chocolate too,” he said. “Ooh, and with extra marshmallows, please!”

Marinette’s lips twitched into a small smile. That was similar to her partner too. He always had a large pile of the delicious dessert in his drink. Raising a curious eyebrow at him, she spoke up, “You like marshmallows then?”

“Oh definitely,” Adrien grinned back at her. “They’re delicious! And hot chocolate with marshmallows is the best drink during winter!”

She giggled quietly at him, “Hot chocolate is my favorite too! It completely warms you up when it’s cold! Especially when it’s snowing like today!”

Adrien opened his mouth to speak but was stopped as their drinks reached the table. Marinette smiled thankfully at their waiter before sipping on the delicious beverage. Any last remaining chill that she had been feeling immediately evaporated upon a sip of the hot chocolate. She hummed, taking another large gulp before grinning up at the boy across from her, “Are your marshmallows good?”

“They’re perfect!” he grinned back at her.

There the two sat in the small, warm café, chatting about the latest schoolwork and updates to their favorite game. They both sipped gradually on their drinks, almost as if neither of them wanted to leave. Marinette even congratulated herself over how well she was handling the conversation with her long-time crush. Eventually, though, her gaze was drawn over to her phone where she gasped at the time. She needed to get back soon! She still had homework due later today!

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she said as she scrambled for her purse in a panic. “I lost track of time! I need to get home and I still don’t have any of the material I need! I’ve gotta go!”

“It’s okay, I’ll walk you,” he waved their waiter back over who he handed a few Euros over to.

“Oh no, no! It’s okay! I can pay for my half at least,” Marinette frowned over at him.

Adrien merely gave her a reassuring smile, shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I dragged you in here so the least I can do is pay for your hot chocolate. Consider it an early Christmas gift,” he winked at her.

Turning a bright shade of pink, Marinette gulped quietly, trying to ignore the implications that this was a date. “O-ok,” she stuttered slightly as she stood up. “B-but you don’t have to walk me over. I’ll be fine by myself, really.”

“It’s no problem, Marinette! I don’t have anywhere else to be and I don’t want you passing out in the middle of a street,” he teased her.

Her blush darkened as she mumbled, “Okay.”

After that was decided, they walked to the front entrance, with Marinette taking a big gulp of air before heading out into the cold winter storm. Almost instantly, the warmth that she had gained from the café left her. Yawning quietly, she nuzzled into Adrien’s side, enjoying the heat it granted her. He leaned down to talk to her, causing his warm breath to brush against her ear, “Where are we going, Marinette?”

“Huh?” she blinked up at him slowly before her eyes widened in realization and she looked around. “O-oh, we should take a left here, and then it should be straight ahead.”

“Got it,” he murmured back at her before taking her hand in his. Her blue eyes shot open at that, looking up at him confusedly with a deep, red blush. Adrien merely shrugged at her, winking again. “I don’t want you to get lost.”

“R-right,” Marinette gulped, turning away from his glimmering eyes to look at their surroundings. Shivering as another cold snowflake hit her face, she clutched Adrien’s hand like a lifeline, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief when they finally spotted the fabric store. When they entered the building, she let go of his hand to instead point a finger at him. Ignoring the feeling of loss she felt as her hand left his warm grasp, she spoke sharply, “No peeking! I don’t want you guessing what your gift is!”

“I understand, Marinette,” Adrien chuckled, grinning down at her.

Shooting him one last suspicious glance, she turned to look at the rows of fabric in the store. Quickly, she pulled out three different colors for her friends, deciding on orange for Alya, dark green for Nino, and a bright red for Adrien. Marinette headed up to the front counter to pay for the three fabrics with a quiet, frustrated breath.

With them safely tucked into a bag and away from enquiring eyes, she looked around for Adrien. She eventually found him looking at a row of fabric, awe clear in his eyes. Clearing her throat, she stepped toward him. “Are you ready to go Adrien?”

“Yeah,” he snapped out of his daze and brought his gaze over to her before shaking his head with wonder. “I just don’t know how you do it, Marinette. How you turn this into beautiful clothes. You’re amazing.”

“O-oh thank you,” Marinette blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “I-it’s just years of practice, I guess. I was pretty bad when I started out.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Adrien said as he came over to take her hand once again. Together they walked to the front of the store. “Are we heading to the bakery now, or did you have another errand to run?”

She shook her head quickly. “N-no, I’m going home now. B-but, Adrien, you don’t have to walk me there. You’ve done a lot for me already. Seriously, thank you! I don’t want to take up the rest of your night.” “I already told you that it’s fine, Marinette. I want to make sure you get home safely. Besides, I could really go for a croissant right now,” he beamed down at her before pushing the door open. Groaning as the wind blew against her face, Marinette instantly turned to Adrien for some form of warmth. Her crush chuckled softly before murmuring, “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Her heart practically flip-flopped at that, butterflies erupting in her stomach. She glanced up at him to give him a soft smile, mouthing thank you at him. Why does he have to be so cute? It’s just not fair, she practically whined in her thoughts.

With her nestled into his side as she was, Marinette barely noticed when they finally arrived back at the bakery. She only realized she was home after Adrien leaned down to whisper to her, “We’re here.”

“We are?” She peeled an eye open that she didn’t even remember closing. Slowly, they both blinked open as she realized that they were, in fact, at the entrance to the bakery. “Oh, we are!” she exclaimed.

Adrien chuckled at her before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks for hanging out with me today Marinette. I had a great time.”

“N-no!” she stammered as she hugged him back. “Thank you for hanging out with me! I don’t think I would have made it home without you. Seriously, Adrien thank you .” Marinette leaned up on her tip-toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. Her cheeks flamed as she set back down on the ground, giving him a wide smile.

“It was no problem, really.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

“W-well at least come inside so you can warm up and I can make you that croissant you wanted.” Her smile widened into a beam as she held the door open for him.

Adrien stepped inside the bakery as she followed after him, happy butterflies dancing in her chest. I’m so glad this wasn’t a dream and I did actually stumble into Adrien! Best day ever! Maybe ... maybe I can confess to him today ...

Chewing on the edge of her lip nervously, she walked towards the boy conversing happily with her parents. He turned around to greet her when she approached with a large, beaming smile. “Hey, Marinette! Your parents made us some croissants! Do you want to head upstairs and eat them with me?”

As his head tilted at her adorably, she felt her heart thump rapidly in her chest. Sucking in a deep breath for courage, she nodded. “S-sure, Adrien. That would be great!”

“Cool!” he said with a boyish grin, taking her hand in his as he tugged her up the stairs.

Barely stifling a quiet squeak, Marinette let Adrien guide her upstairs, briefly catching a glimpse of her parents’ knowing smiles. He let go of her hand when they entered the living room, sitting on her couch and patting the spot next to him.

Giving Adrien a shy smile, she settled down by him, avoiding his glimmering, emerald green eyes. Her hands tore into her croissant as she tried to summon every last ounce of bravery she had. Come on, Marinette! You can do this! I believe in you , she thought to herself determinedly.

Turning to Adrien with one last deep gulp of air, she blurted out almost in perfect unison with him, “I have something to tell you!”

The two blinked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. In between giggles, Marinette wheezed out, “Y-you go first.”

Adrien gave a small but decisive nod before he leaned in closer to her. His eyes seemed to scan their surroundings warily before he looked back at her seriously, a hint of fear and worry dancing in his gaze. Slowly, his hand came up to cover hers, giving it a soft squeeze. Marinette gulped once nervously before he cleared his throat and stuttered out, “I-I know who you are.”

A deep frown creased her brow. “What?”

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear ! It all happened so quickly! One second I had detransformed and was about to leave when you came barreling in! And I tried to hide, really I did! I hid behind a dumpster and covered my eyes but then your kwami said your name and then I guess I just knew,” Adrien spoke quickly, his eyes searching her gaze hopefully.

Marinette sat frozen on the couch, her mouth wide open in horror. Trembling slightly, she stuttered out, “A-Adrien, I-I don’t understand. W-what are you talking about?! A kwami ... what’s that?”

“It’s okay, Marinette. You can trust me,” he said with a small, anxious smile, “Besides, I know you know what a kwami is because you were once Multimouse.”

“Multimouse,” she frowned at him, “But you weren’t... wait!”

She gasped in shock as Adrien merely nodded his head at her. “At your service, m’Lady.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot!” Marinette shrieked at him, “We’re not supposed to know our secret identities.”

“I know and I’m sorry but I mmph—!” She cut Adrien off with a passionate kiss, relaxing as he melted into their embrace.

Eventually, she pulled back, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. “That was what I wanted to tell you, by the way.”

“Wha ... huh?!” Adrien blinked down at her dumbly.

Marinette giggled shyly, rolling her eyes, “I wanted to say that I love you, Adrien. Ever since you handed me that umbrella, I’ve been yours.”

A slow, wide smile stretched across his face before he hugged her tightly to his chest. Adrien connected their lips together once more before breathing out, “I love you too, Marinette.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrinette #ml #mlb #identity reveal #reveal #adrien knows #cuddles #cuddlebug #sleepy marinette is sleepy

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lachimolala0713 · 3 years

Text

Unforeseen | Chapter II

Summary | I have always loved my boyfriend Jimin. He is the light and love of my life. We are happy and in love for 9 years. Until one day his best friend, Taehyung, confessed his affection to me and it struck the unforeseen circumstances in our lives.

Type / Genre | Smut, Angst, Drama and Fluff

Characters | Jimin x reader | Taehyung x reader (ft. BTS)

Author’s Note | I want to thank my co-ARMY and great friend Pied Piper for encouraging me to write my first story. To the future readers of this story, I hope you’ll enjoy this one. Thank you!

Jimin was driving a bit fast, I can see he's worried. "Love, I'm okay don't worry." I tried my best to hide my weak voice, he continued his driving and as we go the traffic light lit in red light and he stopped the car, he took a deep breath, "I know you're hiding it. I know you. I want you to get some rest at home." by the tone of he's anxious and worried. I nodded and gave him a smile, "Why don't you take a week off from work?" he asked, "What? You know I can't." I said, "It's just a week jagiya. You've been working non stop." he said and I agree with him, I am tired, exhausted and burned out from work.

He reached for my hand and held it tight. "You know how much I love my work but yeah, I'll ask Taehyung to give me a week off." I said, "Thank you." he smiled. The green light turned on and Jimin continued driving on our way home.

TAEHYUNG POV

Here I am lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking how Y/N is. I feel so guilty of what I did to her at work and I was blind for not seeing how she works non stop. I realized she never took a day off ever since she started working in my company and it suddenly worries me especially I overworked her today.

Maybe I should pay her a visit tomorrow.

I felt so light and relaxed maybe it's because of the medicine I took last night. I rolled to my side and stared at the window. It's so beautiful how the sunlight reflects on the glass door in the balcony. It felt so cozy that I just want to lie down the whole day.

Suddenly Jimin's arm slowly wrapped around my waist, I can feel his breath behind me, "How are you feeling?" his husky voice sounded so sweet, I turned around to face him, "I feel great actually." I smiled. He planted a kiss on my forehead, "Can we stay here a little longer?" he asked, he just stared at me, his eyes were full of longing, he must've missed me so much and I do too, every single day. I simply nodded and smiled to him, I felt his hold tighten around me, "I missed you jagiya." he said,

The warm water from the shower relaxed me even more. Just by closing my eyes and feeling the warm water is soothing, I feel like I'm going to fall asleep here. "Y/N..." I heard Jimin behind me, he wrapped his arms around my waist, he planted sweet kisses on my shoulder and I can't help but weaken in by his touch. He slowly slide up his hand and cupped my breast, I gasped, he played my nipples with his index finger and I can't help but whimpered. "Yes, that's it. Squirm underneath my touch." he whispered to my ear, "Jimin..." I moaned, he continued playing with my nipples, he kneaded my breast slowly in a circular motion, "Fuck!" he hissed, "They're so soft jagi." he whimpered, I moaned, I felt his teeth on my shoulder, "Moan for me." he whispered and his voice sounded sweet yet seductive. His one hand slowly went down to my abdomen and to my clit. "Fuck! You're so wet Y/N." I moaned loudly, the way he touched me down there felt new, his other hand cupped my face and turned it to the side, facing him and he attacked me with a kiss.

As we kiss his other hand continued rubbing my clit in a quick pace, I kept moaning through his mouth and he took the chance to let out his tongue inside my mouth, "Suck my tongue, Y/N." he commanded and I followed. I can feel my climax already, "Ah..." I moaned, "Are you close?" he asked gently, "Yes." I breathed, "Will you squirt for me?" he asked, "Yes." I feel I'm catching my breath with all the sensation he gives me, "Good." he said. He lifted my left leg up and held it with his left arm, while his right hand continued rubbing my clit. "Jimin..." I moaned, "Fuck you moaned so good!" he said, "I think I'm close..." I breathed, he didn't respond, he just kept working down there, driving my libido insane. "Please, Jimin..." I begged, "You can take it. You're a good girl. Right, Y/N?" he kissed my cheek but this time it was slow, it was a sweet gesture.

"Jimin..." I breathed, the sensation he's giving me drives an immense pleasure to my core, "Don't hold it. I want you to scream, Y/N. Scream my name." he whispered to my ear, "Jimin! Fuck! Ah...it's so good!" I finally let it out, he definitely knows how to make me feel good. "Yes, Y/N." I felt his voice lingered through my skin, it's seductive. He fastened his fingers on my clit, "Oh!" I yelped, with his sudden motion I tilted my head and lie on his shoulder, giving him access on my neck and he took it. He sucked and bit my neck like I'm his delicious meal. "Y/N..." he moaned my name, "Shit!" he cursed, "Oh my god, Jimin!" I'm losing my balance that I placed my hand at the back of his shoulder, "Come for me, Y/N." he commanded, and just with those words I let go of myself. "Holy shit!" Jimin was surprised with my release, "Fuck Y/N that was so hot." he said, "You're so beautiful when you squirt. Fuck!" he hissed, the intensed sensation continued flowing to my core and I felf so high.

My legs weakened but Jimin hold me tight, carrying my weight in case I fell and I felt sleepy all of the sudden. He let go my leg and hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder as the warm water pour above us.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked gently, "I want to cook you some lunch." I smiled, "I missed your cooking!" he said, "I could use a helping hand as well!" I offered, his smile widened, and his eyes are also smiling like the shape of the crescent moon. I reached for his cheek and pinched it really hard, "Argh! Jagiya that hurts!" he whined, "Blame yourself for being so cute." I giggled.

Cutting onions has always been a struggle to me, whether it's white or red it always make me cry. Jimin laughed, "Hey! It's not funny." I sniffed, "It's just that you're so cute, Y/N." he laughed, "Crying over an onion." he teased, suddenly the doorbell rang, "I'll get it!" I said, I walked towards the main door and I opened it. I saw a huge bouquet of red carnation and behind it was a tall man, it was Taehyung.

"Hey, Y/N."

JIMIN POV

I continued and finished chopping the onions and I noticed Y/N was taking so long. I put down the knife and went to her, "Y/N who was at the door?" I said as I walked towards her, and I saw Taehyung holding a bouquet of red carnations, Y/N's favorite flower.

"Hey Y/N." Taehyung smiled and handed the bouquet to her, "Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady." he said, I am happy that my best friend adores Y/N but why do I felt anxious and worried all of a sudden?

"Hey, Taehyung!" I said cheerfully, "Oh Jimin, hello!" he greeted, "Thanks for coming over." I walked towards Y/N and stood behind her, "Yeah, we're just preparing some lunch." Y/N said, "Why don't you come inside, Tae?" I offered, "Oh thank you." he said and he looked at Y/N, "How are you feeling today?" he asked, "I'm good. Jimin took care of me last night." she smiled at him, I noticed Taehyung is not breaking eye contact with Y/N. The way Taehyung looked at her dearly is so - sweet.

I hope I'm wrong.

We went back to the kitchen and Y/N continued chopping the other ingredients. “Jagiya, you be careful with the knife.” I said, “Do you need help?” Taehyung asked, “It’s okay, we’re good. You just sit there and make yourself at home, Tae.” I said. “How’s your work, Jimin?” Taehyung asked, “It was great. We got many clients last week.” I said happily, “Oh really? That’s wonderful to hear.” Taehyung said. “Jimin has been working so hard, Tae. He really loves his work.” Y/N said, I blushed and smiled shyly at her compliment, “Well, gotta work hard for our future.” I smiled at Y/N and kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N started frying the rice and vegetables, I sat down on the kitchen isle with Taehyung and I looked at him he looked tired and stressed out. “Have you been resting lately?” I asked, “Not really. Been thinking nonstop about the company...and certain things.” he said, “Are you seeing someone lately?” I asked and we both laughed at my question, “No, but there is someone that I like.” he said, and suddenly my heartbeat fastened by his answer. "But I don't know if she feels the same way." he said, by the tone of his voice, he seemed sad and disappointed. I cleared my throat and thought of what question I should ask.

"Jimin, could you get me a bowl for the fried rice?" Y/N asked, and I quickly went to the cabinet to get a bowl for her. We prepared the food on the dining table as what Y/N wanted it to be laid out. "Oh wow, this looks good! This will be my first time to try your cooking Y/N!" Taehyung said excitingly, "You're gonna love it, Tae!" I said, and Y/N blushed at my compliment, "Alright boys, time to eat!" Y/N said.

As we enjoy the food, I noticed Taehyung kept on glancing at Y/N as she take spoonfuls of her food. It bothers me. I know Taehyung was worried of Y/N because of what happened to her at work last night but why is his eyes are telling something else?

Y/N cleared her throat and drank some water, "Um, Taehyung?" she asked, "Yeah?" Taehyung responded, "Is it okay for me to take a week off?" she asked nicely, and there was a pause on Taehyung's gesture, his eyes widened at Y/N's request.

On that moment, silence filled the room.

TAEHYUNG POV

I was surprised of what Y/N just asked. Take a week off? Why? That means I won't get to see her on weekdays. Does she hate my company? Does she hate how I manage things at work? Is she tired of working under my supervision? Is she planning to resign that's why she's asking for a week off? To think if she still wants to work in my company? With me?

I felt my heart beat faster and I can heart it behind my head. "Taehyung?" she called my attention, I looked at her and then to Jimin and then to her. I cleared my throat, fixed myself on my seat and took my glass of water and drank it, "May I know the reason why?" I asked gently, I don't want to scare her by giving my big boss vibe to her on a weekend especially I'm just a visitor at this place. "Um..." she's nervous, is that what she feels about me when she's requesting something for her own needs? Am I that superior to her?

She looked at Jimin in the eye as he held her hand and brushed her knuckles with his thumb to help her relax, "It's okay Y/N. Taehyung is just asking." Jimin reassured her, "Yeah, I just want to know why." I smiled at her, I want to make her feel that I am not dangerous, that I am Jimin's best friend and her friend too and that I love her too, "I just want to take some time off at work. I realized that I've been working non stop after what happened last night. I also want to spend some quality time with myself and of course with Jimin too." she said, I can see the sincerity in her eyes, the longing she wants to take a break from work. "Ah. But it's weekdays right? You won't be working, Jimin?" I can't believe I just asked that. Who am I to know how they spend their quality time together?

No one.

"Oh, it's my week off too. The clients wanted to reschedule their meetings with me so my executive assistant cleared my scheduled next week." Jimin said, "Ah." I said casually, "Okay. I think Y/N will need that to feel better too. I'm okay with it." I said. It's true I hate the feeling that I won't get to see her but I also hate the feeling that because of work she could get tremendously ill, knowing she's working under my company.

"Thank you, Taehyung." she smiled at me, I'm gonna miss that sweet smile of hers for a week. "You're welcome. You deserve it. You deserve a break." I said. "Thank you." Jimin said and I smiled at him.

Y/N is not mine to control. I'm just her boss. Jimin's best friend. Her friend.

Yes.

Just her friend.

That's it for Chapter 2. I'm starting to think that Taehyung looks like a possessive boss here. What do you think?

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to share your thoughts. I would love to read them!

#JiminFanfic #Jimin Boyfriend #Jimin #Jimin Angst #Jimin Drama #Jimin Smut #Jimin Fluff #Jimin x Reader #Taehyung #Taehyung x Reader #Taehyung Angst #BTS Fanfic #Taehyung Fanfic

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marvelousstevetony · 3 years

Note

Hi! If you’re taking prompts, can you maybe do insecure tony for stony? I was just thinking about tony always stifling sneezes because his normal sneeze is insanely cute but he doesn’t want Steve or the team to know? But then they find out when tony has a cold or something and can’t stifle at some point? Thank you for your writing also :)

This is... so old, anon, I’m so sorry. Life has been crazy busy these last few weeks. I combined this ask with another anon requesting “vulnerable” for stony (which I’m also very late to answer, sorry!)

I hope you both see this anyway and enjoy despite it being so late.

(2.5k of sick Tony, cuddles, and everything in between)

----------

“h’ehh… uhNGxxt! ehhh’mPTChh!”

Tony pinches his nose between his thumb and index finger, head bopping slightly forward with the force of the sneezes.

“Bless you, Tones.” Steve glances up from the debrief forms and watches the way Tony’s rubbing mercilessly at his twitching nostrils. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth hanging slightly agape as he waits for the sneeze to come, however, after a few seconds, it seems to escape, and Tony is left sniffling into his wrist.

“Sorry… thanks,” he replies, and Steve swears he can see Tony’s cheeks color immediately after Steve pulls out his handkerchief and offers it to him. Tony shakes his head, though, but his soft smile tells Steve that he’s grateful for the offer even though he declines.

Steve goes back to looking over the forms while sipping his coffee. They’ve been at it for a while, and Steve’s tired, so he downs the caffeinated drink mindlessly despite its ineffectiveness. Tony says it’s a mental thing as much as it is physiologically, and it seems to have become a habitual thing for him since they started dating. Even though Steve doesn’t particularly like the taste, he finds that he’ll always drink the coffee as long as Tony’s there.

He narrows he eyes, concentrating on reading the words, but his head’s suddenly swimming, and he lets his eyes slip shut for a few moments until his hearing picks up a choked noise, and he looks up to see Tony stifling another bout of near-silent sneezes into the shoulder of his white button-up.

Tony looks adorable like this, Steve thinks, nose all scrunched up and eyebrows drawn together into a confused frown. He also looks tired, Steve notices, as tired as Steve feels. He throws a quick glances over the papers that are scattered all over the table, then up at his boyfriends who’s now scrubbing at his nose with a bent index finger, and catches his lower lips between his teeth as he decides that they’re done for the day.

“Hey,” Steve says as he gets up and goes to stand behind Tony, leaning down to rest his chin on Tony’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Tony echoes and turns on the chair, now facing Steve with a warm, yet sleepy, smile, which is immediately returned.

“You think it’s time to finish up here, yeah?” Steve ask softly, caressing Tony’s cheek as he says it. They feel a little warm, and now that Steve gets a closer look, he can tell that there’s a slight flush to them, and to his nose as well. It could be because he’s just tired, that happens to Steve sometimes, but Steve’s 99 percent sure that Tony probably needs rest because he’s both spent, overworked and, from the looks (and sounds) of it, coming down with a cold.

Tony leans in to the gentle touch for a second, then closes his eyes and nods. “I can’t even tell you how long snf! I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” It almost comes out as a sigh, breathy and relieved, and Steve could feel the way Tony’s jaw unclenched in his hand.

“So… dinner in bed?” Steve carefully slips off Tony’s glasses and places them on the table, then strokes a thumb under Tony’s eye, tracing along the indistinct line the glasses had imprinted onto his skin. “I think an early night would do us good,” Steve adds and leans in his brush his nose against Tony’s.

Tony pulls away slightly, even the softest touch making him sniffle madly. He draws in a few quavering breaths and leans away from Steve before crushing a small fit of sneezes into his fist.

“Hdt’mpshh! hH’NGSXT! N’GKt! snffSNFF! Sorry,” Tony rasps as the fit subsides.

“God bless you, sweetheart,” Steve says, voice drowning in sympathy. “Dinner in bed?” he asks again.

“We don’t have to, snff! We can do dinner at the table,” Tony assures, frowning.

Steve smiles warmly. “I know… It was mostly because I feel like I could fall asleep right here on the floor,” he chuckles. “But I do believe it’d be good for both of us.”

“Yeah, I- I guess so,” Tony exhales. “I really can’t be bothered to cook dinner, though.”

“I’ll do dinner,” Steve offers. “You can take a shower and get into bed.”

Tony pouts at that. “The can’t be bothered to cook dinner was mostly because it would mean we’d have less time to cuddle. You doing dinner doesn’t change that, Steve, I’ll still need my favorite pillow.”

Steve shakes his head and laughs fondly. “Thirty minutes tops. I promise.”

Tony narrows his eyes at Steve, then smirks. “Twenty.”

———

Steve arrives with dinner exactly 21 minutes and 15 seconds later.

“You’re late,” Tony states, looking at his wrist as if he was wearing a watch.

“Oh, shush, you,” Steve says as he settles the tray on the bed. “You’re not even wearing a watch.”

“JARVIS keeps track of the time,” Tony clarifies. “Although, I think you’re forgiven. This looks amazing, Steve.” Tony reaches out to grab the plate and puts it in his lap.

“Anyone can cook pasta, Tony. Even Clint,” Steve shrugs.

“But your pasta is actually good,” Tony says. “And I’m Italian, I’m a tough critic to please,” he adds as he swallows a mouthful of creamy spaghetti.

Steve, as always, brushes off the compliment and ducks his head with a shy smile. He joins Tony under the comforter, scooting closer to his boyfriend until he’s near enough to rest his chin on top of Tony’s head. He doesn’t even remember letting his eyes slip shut, but they do, slowly. He’s right on the verge of nodding off, but suddenly he feels something being removed from under his chin, and his head falls forward, waking him with a start. It’s Tony’s head that’s missing, Steve realizes.

Beside him, Tony’s body jerks slightly forward as he pinches his nose with two fingers. His eyes are squeezed shut, shoulders hunched, as he draws in a short breath and stifles another near-silent sneeze.

“ng’tCHh!”

“Bless you,” Steve croaks, his voice already rusty from almost sleeping. He grabs a few tissues from the nightstand and places them in Tony’s hand.

Tony accepts the Kleenex and brings it right up to his nose. “uhhGxxt’ch! ehhk’NGxt!”

“Let yourself sneeze, babe. Sounds like it hurts…” Steve mumbles as he settles back in close to Tony. He doesn’t even hear Tony’s response, because his eyelids are just so heavy, and the comforter is warm, and within a few seconds, Steve is out like a light.

————

When Steve wakes up, his face is smushed into the pillow. He sighs deeply into it before propping himself up on his elbows and scrubs at his face with both palms to clear away the sleepy haze. His naked back is half covered by the linen sheet, half uncovered, fair skin glowing from the sleep-warm heat. He must’ve taken his t-shirt off at some point during the night, which seems unusual. He’s normally always cold in the night and has to cuddle in close to Tony to get warm.

Steve looks to his right and watches Tony’s relaxed facial expression. He looks so peaceful and innocent that Steve can’t help the flush creeping up his cheeks or the soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Adoration and affection surge through him as he takes in the view of his boyfriend.

Tony is lying on his side, face turned towards Steve. His lips are barely parted, just enough to breathe in through his mouth. They look so soft, though, Steve thinks, irresistible, really, and Steve… Well, Steve feels it would be a crime not to kiss them when they are that pink and plump and perfect.

He leans down and catches Tony’s bottom lip between both of his. The kiss is gentle and sweet and the dazed feeling lingers even after he’s pulled away. It tingles in every inch of Steve body; the urge to run his fingers over Tony’s cheek, to brush a hand through the soft curls, and, somehow, Steve knows that this is what he wants every morning. He wants their sleep-warm bodies pressed close to each other. He wants the first thing he sees when he wakes up to be Tony’s messy hair and half-open mouth. He wants the domesticity and the pure bliss of waking up with he person he loves more than anything else.

The thoughts make tears prickle behind Steve’s eyes, and he probably would’ve teared up if Tony didn’t begin stirring just then.

Tony blinks his eyes open, and he smirks when he sees Steve gazing at him with such fond and kind eyes. “Mornin’,” he croaks.

“Hey.” Steve smiles and brings his hand up to stroke Tony’s arm through the soft t-shirt he slept in. “Sleep well?”

“I think so… or, I don’t know,” Tony amends. “I’m still so tired.” He closes his eyes and nuzzles closer to Steve, who now realizes why he’d overheated while they slept.

“You feel warm,” Steve murmurs. “Are you alright?”

Tony huffs. “‘M fine, Steve,” he mutters, voice muffled by the pillow. “Jus’ tired.”

Steve frowns and cups Tony’s cheek in his palm. “I think you’re running a slight temperature, sweetheart. ’S not too bad, but still…”

“I get hot when I sleep, tha-ahh-that’s w-why,” Tony tries, but it sounds unconvincing, even to him. It probably would have more believable if his breath hadn’t come in short gasps, and his nose hadn’t quivered violently as he said it.

Steve watches as Tony twists his head to face away from Steve. He doesn’t see the way Tony’s face undoubtedly crumbles with the sneezes, but the way his shoulders tense with the withheld sneezes is enough to make Steve’s heart ache in sympathy.

“ehh-NgHTsshx! Hng-tsxx! HNgx! SnfSNFF!” Tony sniffles a few times, then groans. When he turns his head to face Steve again, his eyes are squeezed shut and presses a hand to his temple. “Sorry, excuse me.”

“God bless,” Steve murmurs and removes Tony’s hand from his forehead and places his own there instead. He begins gently massaging Tony’s scalp, fingers rubbing along his hairline, and he carefully runs his thumb over one eyebrow.

Tony’s face is still pinched, nose wrinkling, and a few second later, he stifles a small Hngxsh! into the pillow. An almost inaudible whimper escapes through his lips, one that Steve probably wouldn’t have heard it if he didn’t have super-senses.

“Bless you,” Steve sympathizes. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Tony asks, confused.

“Hold them back like that. It’s not good for you, it looks painful,” Steve winces at the mere thought of the stabbing pain stifling sneezes does to him, and he can’t imagine it hurts any less to Tony.

“Yeah, it’s… not great,” Tony agrees. “But I can’t help it, it’s a habit.” He shrugs and leaves it at that.

They’re quiet for a minute while Steve nestles closer to Tony and drapes an arm over his waist. They lay there, in silence, looking into each other’s eyes— until Tony draws in a breath and crushes his face into his shoulder.

“H’tsnghh! Sh-ihht ihhngxt! Ugh.”

“Tony,” Steve says disapprovingly, glaring at him.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, Steve,” Tony grumbles. “That’s just how I sneeze, I’ve done it since I was twenty. Twenty, Steve. You know how many years ago that is??”

Steve chuckles fondly at Tony’s self-deprecating joke. “And I thought I was the old one in this relationship,” he retorts with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“You are, but it’s still a long time… You know how hard it is to break a habit like that? It’s impossible,” Tony answers his own question.

Steve shakes his head and laughs again. “You’re ridiculous—“

“You love me.”

“and— I do love you, yes, but you really should stop trying to hold your sneezes back like that. It’ll give you a headache, and from the looks of it, it already has.”

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, Tony sighs and deflates, which tells Steve that his suspicion was right. “Okay, yeah, a little maybe,” Tony admits with a small smile to show Steve that he is okay, even if his head is pounding and his nose is twitching, and he has to keep sniffling and rubbing at his poor nose to impede the horrible itch.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling bad,” Steve says sweetly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this sniffly,” he adds.

“You wouldn’t have… I don’t get sick. Or, I don’t get sick very often,” he rephrases when Steve gives him a look that says Really? “I normally just stay in the workshop, but this… this is not the normal I’m used to when I have a cold.”

Tony looks around the room, at Steve, who’s definitely the anomaly in this case.

Steve smiles warmly. “Well, it is now.” He leans in to graze a kiss over Tony’s lips and nudges his nose against Tony’s. The feather-light touch seems to cause the remaining itch in Tony’s nose to bloom, though, because Tony quickly pushes Steve away. He barely has time to bring his arm to his face, so he aims the sneezes down towards the blankets.

“tshu! tshh! eh’tsh! huh-tshoo!”

The sneezy sensation overcomes him so quickly he doesn’t even have time to think about stifling them. They’re small and soft and shivery, but Tony lets out a relieved sigh when he finishes. It feels so good to sneeze and not feel like he’s been smacked in the head by the Hulk afterwards.

The alleviation almost makes him dizzy, and it takes him a couple of seconds to pick up the sound of Steve... giggling?

“What are you laughing at?” Tony asks, brows drawn together.

“That- w-was,” Steve tries to speak, but he couldn’t get the words out in between cackles. “That’s the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard,” he manages to say. The smile on his face stretches from ear to ear.

“Ha-ha.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Laughing at my weird sneeze is very funny, Steve.”

Tony pouts as Steve still couldn’t keep a straight face. “You know, this is why I started stifling them. Because of bullies like you.” Steve can tell he’s not actually mad, though, because Tony’s face starts breaking into a smile and soon he’s chuckling alongside Steve.

“That’s why?” Steve asks.

“I know my sneeze is weird—“ he begins, immediately going shy.

“No, it’s not weird, not at all. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Tony asks incredulously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, “definitely the cutest sound I’ve ever heard.” The blonde leans in again, brushes his nose against Tony’s. It has the same effect the second time around, and Tony quickly snaps his head the other way to sneeze over his shoulder.

“tish! iitsh! huh-uh! tshu! hh’itsch! Oh…”

“So sensitive,” Steve murmurs fondly as Tony recovers from the fit of small, ticklish sneezes. “Bless you,” he adds and Tony just sniffles in reply. The tip of his nose is so pink, quivering ever so slightly, and Steve really can’t help but press the most tender kiss right on the center of it, grinning as Tony’s eyes begin to flutter shut again.

“Oh, fuhhck y-you, R-Rohhgers… ishhew! ishh! uhh-tshh!”

“Bless you, sweetheart,” Steve coos, one big, loving smile plastered all across his face.

#my fic #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #mcu #i love them a lot okay

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malethirsty · 4 years

Text

Loyalty - Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: When you help Klaus Mikaelson to turn hybrids, the rewards you reap from the original are perfection.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!)

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1196817642251669505?s=21

You sat in a booth of the Mystic Grill, not ordering anything, just mulling over what had occurred in your life that had led you up to here. As a longtime friend of The Council, you knew of supernatural entities existing and the potential threat they exposed to Mystic Falls. You thought nothing of it until The Salvatore Brothers: Damon and Stefan let their infatuation with Elena Gilbert seep into the town & after that, things had been occurring left, right and centre. One of these things that had a profound affect you was Klaus Mikaelson. The feared Original took over Alaric Saltzman’s body to get to grips with the town, and in order to remain inconspicious, started a friendship with you. Whilst posing as Alaric, he made you think of Klaus’s actual motivations of activating his wolf side and being able to turn hybrids: He was lonely, sick and tired of being the only one of his kind. So when Klaus did return to his original body, you made sure to keep tabs on him, just in case he needed you, also because he looked hot in his real form, but that would be something for another time in your dreams, you had to be professional with Klaus.

After a long winded absence he popped up in Mystic Falls with Stefan & Rebekah, the latter being his sister and the night they returned you assisted Klaus in making the link between Elena’s blood and turning the hybrids, inadvertently saving Tyler Lockwood’s life at the same time. Elena and her pack of friends Caroline & Bonnie, were utterly furious and you were sure Alaric would make sure The Council would cut you off from anything further with them. Which led you to right here & now, trying to think of your next step. Would you be exiled from Mystic Falls? Where would you go? Would you ever see Klaus again? You were so wrapped up in thought that you didn’t notice the pair of feet stepping through the bar until you saw Klaus standing across from you “Well Hello Y/N, what are you doing at the Mystic Grill at this hour?” You wondered whether you should tell him or try and play it off in a humorous way, you decided with the former “Pondering over tomorrow, Elena and her friends hate me & The Council won’t want me around. I’m worried by helping ypu, I’ve ruined the perfect life I’ve made for myself, and while you become the hybrid, I become the outcast” You didn’t notice you had been silently crying until Klaus leant forwards, running his hand down your face, drying it “Love, I want you to listen to what I say next because it’s important. Fuck them, you made the right decision to help me, I have my new pack, I have my ripper & I’ll take you in with me, don’t worry. Don’t spend time on them, they won’t matter in a few hundred years but what you have helped me achieve tonight, will last forever.” You smiled up at Klaus, his promise made you feel better, like you were at home with someone you cared about. “We should really celebrate you and I this evening.” he snapped his fingers for a waiter, before compelling the poor soul to make a whole bunch of food that would be tricky to make at this time of night due to fatigue. Whilst he did this you sat across from the hybrid, transfixed at his beauty, his eyes, dimples, the feint outline of a tattoo on his upper chest, Klaus Mikaelson was just perfect. Having finished with the waiter, Klaus turned round to you “Mind if I sit here in the booth with you love?” you shook your head & you moved down, Klaus talong his seat next to you.

You spent the next few hours having an amazing conversation with Klaus, in admits the Chips, Pizza & Garlic Bread sent to the table, Klaus told you stories of old, about the creation of New Orleans, about times with Stefan, you found yourself entranced by his words, paying close attention to each story. As the night dragged on, you began to get sleepy and forgetting you weren’t in your bedroom instead of a restauraunt, you laid your head down on Klaus’s shoulder, “Well well love, thank goodness you finally made the first move.” Remembering where you were, you withdrew from Klaus “No Klaus, I’m a bit tired, I should head home” Klaus however held a finger to his lips and you obediently fell silent “Y/N, I know your sleepy, I can smell it, but there’s more than that coming from you. There’s a hint of lust there as well, it’s been there since we met. You want me, don’t you?” You gulped, whilst you were thinking this isn’t how you thought this would go down, a part of you cursed yourself because of course being part Vampire, Klaus could smell your scent, now you had to make a choice about how best to handle the situation you had gotten into. Deciding to rip the bandaid off, you cleared your throat and began “Well Klaus, I guess I’ve felt in love ever since you conversed with me as Alaric, something struck me about the conversation. I cared about your story, about what you had to go through, how strong it made you. And all of this, got me to realise that I love you Klaus Mikaelson.” you took a deep breath, weights finally thudding off your shoulders and looked to Klaus, whom had been transfixed on you ever since you started talking. “Niklaus” he said as he reached you, and you looked confused “What?” you inquired “You deserve to know and say my full name: Niklaus Mikaelson. Take my hand Y/N.” you did as he asked and felt a sudden whooshing combined with blurred vision, until you made it inside of a room. you had barely registered the bed at the end of the room when Klaus kissed you passionately, wrapping his hand around your head to deepen it. The heat and the passion was mind blowing, and you leaned into the kiss giving just as much back to Klaus, this had been something you’d waited for, he was going to get your full treatment.

Klaus broke the kiss after a while, panting, clearly riding the high of it “I love you Y/N. I’ve been in love ever since I saw you, I thought I’d rip through Mystic Falls, take what I wanted and leave, but when I saw you and I knew I had to have you eventually. You understood me, were prepared to protect me no matter what, because you cared about me. I’ve lived for a thousand years, seen many beautiful things, but Y/N, nothing compares to how incredible you are.” you felt like crying again, but this time out of happiness rather than distress, however this was soon forgotten as you were pushed into the bed at supernatural speed by Klaus. As you laid out on the soft bedding, Klaus began to remove his clothes and you, bit your lip, intending to enjoy the show. As soon as he removed his pants and you saw his dick, you let a soft cry come from your mouth and Klaus grinned “Many a lover has had a similar reaction to you. Do you want to become more aquainted with my cock? Do you want to taste it?” Deciding to go on the spur of the moment, you ran your tongue up his length, the hybrid gasping as your warm mouth connected with his cock. After some teasing, you began to suck him deep, and as expected, he tasted incredible. Klaus threw his head back and let breathy moans escape him “Oh Y/N, that’s right. Suck me off love.” With the added encouragement, You ran over his veins and the tip, tasting his delicious precum. All that could be heard was slurping as you took him deeper in your mouth, you now began to rub his balls causing him to moan into you ear, a sound you wanted to hear as many times as you could. Suddenly, Klaus pulled away and pushed you onto the bed, before mounting you “I want you Y/N, I want to be inside you. Open your legs, let me fuck you.” You didn’t wait to be asked twice and did as he asked, once your legs were opened with your asshole on display, Klaus immediately thrusted his cock into you.

You both let out a loud cry, you from being stretched open by Klaus’s big member, Klaus from how your walls clenched around him, so tight, yet so snug and perfect. He peppered your neck in kisses so as to calm you down “God! Your hole is pulsing love, keeps urging me to fuck it deeper, harder.” He emphasised his point with several thrusts which made you grip the bedsheets and whimper in pleasure. The sensation of being filled with Klaus’s cock was so intense, everything else was blinded to you but the beautiful hybrid above you, and inside you. It was like you were on cloud nine, trapped between the softness of the bed and Klaus’s body as his cock pulsated inside you as he made love to you so powerfully and passionately. You ran your hands down his chest and back, getting to grips with the man you had loved for so long, and relishing in being naked with him while he was buried inside you, fucking you to within an inch of your life. “Fuck Klaus, so good” you got out and he smiled “That’s what a thousand years of experience does to you love, God I’m glad I get to show you all I’ve learned.” You slowly began to get enough strength to push yourself up a bit and began to kiss Klaus again, him returning it with similar passion, you now riding the inmortal hybrid, drawing up and slamming back down on him, making you both moan. As Klaus began to lick down your neck, an idea crossed your thoughts “Drink from me Klaus”

He looked down at you “Love, are you sure you want me to?” You nodded and seductively responded “I want you to taste me Niklaus” this use of his first name so passionately did it, dark veins formed under Klaus’s eyes, which were now glowing a bright yellow colour as he roared out his monstorous pleasure and sunk his fangs deep into you. He buried into you deeper, colliding harder into your prostate than before as he began to feast on you, you whimpered out your cries of pleasure as you began to dig your nails into his back for leverage. You could feel the feintest traces of blood on your fingertips as Klaus drank your blood, snarling carnally as he gulped you down. Klaus eventually withdrew, blood running down his face, and out of instinct you moved closer to Klaus and licked his face clean, before kissing him, tipping your head back so that the blood tipped down his throat, continuing to sate his bloodlust. As dominant as Klaus could be, his thrusts were starting to become sloppier, a sign any human could recognise that he was close “Y/N” Klaus groaned and you looked deep into his beautiful blue eyes “Come with me.” He moaned softly, the amount of desire that coursed through you at this point was so high, vampires outside of Mystic Falls could probably smell it. You fell back onto the bed and wrapped your legs around Klaus, letting the hybrid sink deeper as he fucked into you helping you get closer to the edge until finally, you both tipped over. You formed an o with your mouth as your load splashed out onto your chest as Klaus cried out his orgasmic release as he released his seed inside of you. You stayed like this for a while before Klaus pulled out and fell next to you his hands snaking over you “Stay with me tonight”, you would have retorted that of course you would, but after orgasm, the waves of drowsiness in the Mystic Grill returned in full force, and all you could do before you went to sleep was curl into the hybrid, kiss him softly on the lips and say “I love you Niklaus Mikaelson”, as you feintly drifted off, you heard Klaus say “I love you too Y/N” which was the final stroke, and sent you to sleep.

#Klaus Mikaelson #Male Reader #Klaus Mikaelson x Male Reader #Klaus Mikaelson Smut #The Vampire Diaries #The Vampire Diaries Smut #Loyalty

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harryandmolly · 4 years

Text

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *7* - final

A/N: thanks for hanging out, guys. always a pleasure 💜

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, butter, adulting

wc: 5.6k

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Lilly takes shallow breaths, all her tight core will allow as she carefully raises her legs back up over her head. The pressure at the crown is almost unbearable -- she’s probably still not totally strong enough to support all her weight in her core and arms like this in a tripod headstand, but she’s never been able to successfully raise her legs off the floor. So she can ignore the pesky brain pulsing. For a few seconds.

Lilly huffs and lowers her legs slowly, spread as wide as she can get them, until her feet hit the floor, taking some of the weight off her head. She unfurls to sit, blinks quickly and grins, catching a glimpse of her bright eyes and flushed cheeks in the reflection of the open glass door. Lilly straightens her back and admires herself, strong and stable, the result of a lot of hard fucking work.

She completes her practice as directed by her perky online instructor and lies in supported fish pose a little longer than usual. She rolls her hips, noticing the way it affects each notch of vertebrae in her back.

Her phone buzzes beside her mat. Her nose twitches as she fights a smile. She glances at it, though she doesn’t need to to know who it is.

Shawn: you coming?

Lilly closes her eyes and types back by muscle memory.

Lilly: shhhhh I’m zen

She rests her phone on her stomach and enjoys the way the night breeze sifts through the room.

The phone makes an angrier but muffled sound on her skin. She checks it, expecting a whining plea or a series of emojis. Instead her jaw drops and she chokes on a breath and pushes herself to sit.

Lilly knows this house as well as her own now. She traces her fingers lovingly along the hallway walls as she winds her way down the stairs and follows the music. It’s Harry Styles, which explains a lot.

The sliding doors to the pool are unlatched but shut to keep out the dreaded mosquitos. It’s past dusk now, the sky will go from cobalt to midnight soon. The pool lights make the water glow a smooth, clean turquoise. It’s interrupted by the boy in the shallow end with his arms hanging on the side, wearing a smirk that barely contains a goofy grin.

Lilly toes carefully over the gravel, hissing as it bites at her feet. The song changes to “Watermelon Sugar,” which incidentally is very appropriate, given the contents of his last text. He notices it too and that smirk gets even dopier.

Lilly shakes her head and glides to the edge of the pool, curling her opalescent painted toes over the edge. She crosses her arms and waves her phone.

“Is this a tease or an actual invitation?”

Shawn lifts a shoulder coyly. He draws a hand into the water and wiggles his fingers through it, looking casual. “Both, I guess. I got you out here, didn’t I?”

Lilly laughs and nods, glancing around. He already grabbed towels for them both when he came out here an hour ago to do laps, part of his regular routine now.

She hears movement in the water and looks down to see him wading toward her. He blinks innocently through wet, dark lashes and places a gentle kiss to each of her big toes, then rests his cheek on her feet.

“Your sushi’s inside on the counter,” he murmurs.

Lilly nods. “I’ll get it later.”

While his eyes are down, Lilly lifts her ribbed crop tank over her head and tosses it on a nearby chair. He lifts his head in time to watch her bare nipples harden in the breeze. His eyes bulge.

“Uh oh, I’m in trouble now,” he teases, kicking off the wall to float on his back as he watches her undress. She wriggles out of her leggings and panties while keeping her eyes on the hills and valleys of his torso.

As she rounds the corner of the pool to take the stairs, Shawn straightens up, sniffing and pushing his hands back through his hair. He opens his arms to her. She walks right in, tucking her arms and legs around him. His content sigh is so heavy the water ripples around them.

His hands wander her back and tangle in the ends of her hair, which looks redder and silkier in the water. Their heads rest side by side like they each need the other to hold them up. Lilly turns her face into his ear, giving his cartilage a lick and greedily sniffling the chlorine in his hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent me.”

She feels him chuckle and holds him even tighter. He scoops his hands down around her ass and starts to wade deeper into the water.

“You inspire me,” Shawn whispers, swaying with her toward the edge, where he can pin her up against the tile wall. She hisses upon contact with the cool stone and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss.

It’s languid, exploring. She’s pretty sure he knows better than to try to fuck her in the pool. That’s only hot in movies. She thinks maybe he just missed her.

“How’d it go today?” she hums.

“Good. Mostly. There are still a few pieces that need to come together for the first two tracks and I’m still not quite getting what I want for track eight, but it was productive.”

Despite their circumstances, Lilly and Shawn have been pseudo-functional adults lately. Once the tent (as they’ve taken to calling the makeshift recording booth) went up, Shawn buckled down to focus on recording and working with producers and the other musicians tracking instruments. Lilly has finally tossed herself full time into writing, breaking for yoga and snacks and to visit him, if she’s super quiet, which she’s not, so she always gets politely kicked out after a take or two.

“How ‘bout you?”

Lilly pecks at the corner of his mouth and nods. “Also good. I almost totally rewrote that scene from yesterday but honestly I feel a lot better about it. It has some life in it now.”

“Good,” Shawn purrs, aiming his lips down at her shoulder. She smiles and tilts her nose into his hair again. Greedy, greedy.

“And… I finally did it.”

Shawn lifts his head and watches her like her face will give him a clue. In a matter of seconds, he lights up.

“Shut the fuck up. The whole way?”

Lilly’s cheeks scrunch with the effort of her smile. “The whole way. Probably killed a bunch of brain cells, but I did it.”

“Lill, that’s nuts! That’s so awesome!” he cries, squeezing her tighter, “Shit, I wanted to film it! I was gonna put it on Insta and tag you as #fitspo!”

Lilly snorts and drops her forehead to rest against his. “What a fun way to announce us to the world.”

“That I’m having really hot yoga sex with my really hot, stretchy girlfriend? I love that for me.”

Lilly cackles, dropping her head back against the stone. Shawn plods kisses up her throat.

“Will you show me later?” he asks, speaking into her wet skin.

“Not tonight, you’re going to be very busy, remember?”

Shawn goes quiet and still for a moment, then jolts with a laugh. “Uh huh, right. So busy. All night long kinda busy.”

Lilly can’t hide her squirm. Shawn gathers her in off the wall so she’s plastered against him, their noses brushing.

“That’s the best kind of busy.”

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me…”

Lilly’s quite sure he can’t hear her, even though he’s lying on top of her. He refused to get out of bed to get the phone charging cord, so he rolled over onto Lilly, his head on her chest under the sheets, as his hand flails toward the ground.

Lilly’s face scrunches up as he grunts and wriggles.

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t--”

“Huh?”

Shawn lifts his head straight into Lilly’s chin, even as she tries at the last second to tilt it away. His enormous head smacks into the base of her jaw, making her clench down on her tongue. She wails.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry!”

The cord is forgotten. Shawn pushes himself up over her and cups her jaw, nudging his lips over the bridge of her nose. He pulls back after a few seconds to inspect her.

Lilly swats at him. “Fuck. God, you’re like Megamind only… less blue. I think my tongue is bleeding.”

She sticks her tongue out and lifts her eyebrows. “Ih ih ee-ing?”

Shawn looks closer. “Nope.” He cradles her face in both hands and kisses her soundly, sliding his tongue against hers, pressing a warm sigh out of her sleepy morning body.

“There, all better,” he determines, folding himself down beside her.

“That’s as close to vampirism as I ever hope to get with you,” Lilly grumbles, reaching for her phone. She allows his apology kisses as she scrolls through Twitter and brushes her toes against his calf.

Her shoulders drop. She exhales and puts the phone down. The sheet comes up over her head. Shawn follows curiously.

“What?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Lover Fest is cancelled.”

Shawn makes a murmur of acknowledgement and tucks his arm around her, pulling the covers higher over both of them. The morning light is diffused through the clean white sheet.

“You kinda knew it would be, though,” he points out, sounding dejected for her.

Lilly’s face crumples into a pout. “I mean, yeah, but I just think it sucks that the universe has chosen to keep me from Taylor. My spiritual big sister. My celestial homegirl. Fate keeps us apart and its cruelty is weighing on me.”

Lilly feels safe enough to get melodramatic in front of Shawn for several reasons, not the least of which is that he, too, can pitch an impressive fit when he wants to. He also chooses not to judge her for complaining about a cancelled concert when millions of people around the world are sick and dying, of which she’s well aware. The guilt hits her secondarily, a privilege in and of itself.

“I’m so gross. I have no right to be upset about this right now.”

Shawn lifts some coppery strands out of her face and tucks them behind her ear. “You’re allowed to care about both.”

Lilly remains grouchy and unconvinced.

“Plus, the universe can’t keep you from Taylor forever, since we’re friends.”

Lilly keeps her eyes down and sucks at her front teeth. Shawn nudges her.

“What?”

Lilly’s expression doesn’t change, save for her eyebrows lifting. Her eyes remain unfocused on her legs. Shawn noses at her temple. Her eyes shut.

“Lillian, what?”

Lilly squirms and lifts the sheet over their heads, letting the world back in. She slides out of his arms and out of the bed, crossing to the chair for her cozy shorts and a big shirt.

“... nothing. It’s nothing.”

She knows she’s not getting away with it, not even close. She doesn’t want to look at him to see just how much she’s not pulling this off.

“Baby, come on.”

Lilly takes a long moment to blink and turns to face him. He’s shirtless and flushed in their rumpled sheets. She tilts her head and sighs, drifting back to him. She gets a knee up on the bed and slides her fingers into his curls. They seem to hug around them like her hand belongs there. He’s staring up at her like a woodland creature.

“Nothing. We should stop fucking and go call our moms before they realize that we’re total heathens.”

Shawn swallows uneasily but seems ready to drop it, for now. He takes her wrist to his lips and chuckles.

“My mum already knows.”

“About you, maybe, not about me.”

Shawn smirks and releases her, watching Lilly trail off in search of a cozy phone spot.

“Tell your mom happy mother’s day from me,” he calls.

Lilly looks back at him as she pads down the hall. “And tell yours from me.”

Lilly watches, entranced, as each pat of butter melts seamlessly into the silky pot of mashed potatoes. She’s not thinking, she’s not measuring, just feeling. Butter. Butter. More butter. She adds a whole stick before she realizes what she’s doing. Her gaze darts over her shoulder. Shawn is facing away from her at the other countertop, muttering to himself as he pulls out ingredients for Yorkshire puddings. She mashes her lips together and turns back, whisking hard to incorporate all her sins.

Cooking has become nearly as meditative as yoga recently. After spending their first few weeks together abusing their bodies in different ways, cooking feels like healing now. The grill took them a few attempts to master, and they side-stepped some potentially life threatening disasters to do it, but now they char slabs of eggplant and zucchini and ears of corn wrapped in tinfoil. They roast potatoes in the oven with fresh herbs and olive oil. Cooking brings them together at the end of the day and gives them a way to take care of each other and themselves.

Mother’s Day presented the perfect opportunity to expand their repertoires and distract themselves from missing their families. The Sunday roast was Lilly’s idea -- whole roast chicken with thyme butter, creamy mashed potatoes, roasted root veggies and Yorkshire puddings with gravy. Mother’s Day Sunday roast is a Mendes family tradition, one Shawn hasn’t been around for in a few years. He had hoped to be home for this one. Lilly decides to bring some home to him.

His arm is hard and warm, wriggling between the stove and her waist as he winds it around her. His other hand presents her with a glass of white. She accepts the kiss on the side of her neck and pretends to stir to look busy.

“Oh, hi,” she murmurs into the wide-bowled glass.

“Oh, hi,” he chuckles, giving her a squeeze, “I saw the butter.”

Lilly huffs. “Goddamnit.” She can’t shake her stupid smile though. He was watching her when she wasn’t watching him.

“Gonna kill us both,” he purrs into her skin, like he doesn’t mind one bit.

“My plan all along.”

Shawn hums in response and backs off, to Lilly’s chagrin.

“Batter’s ready, chef.”

Lilly turns the range down low to keep the potatoes warm. She turns and waves him over, gloving her hand with an oven mitt to get the hot muffin tin from the pre-heated oven. She holds it as Shawn pours batter into each cup.

“The trick my mom taught me is not to open the oven door once they’re in there,” Shawn reports with a nod, watching as Lilly closes the door and sets a timer. Lilly glances at him suspiciously.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, kid, who do you think you’re talking to?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “An American.”

Lilly’s eyes bulge and her jaw drops. She swats him across the chest with her mitt, but lets him cradle her up against him anyway.

“You take that back!” she squeaks.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know you hate being reminded.”

Lilly and Shawn sit on the floor and watch the little popovers rise. They don’t open the oven door even once until the timer goes off.

Lilly puts on John Mayer again over the house speakers. They’re eating in the actual dining room today to be fancy, figuring their setting should match their food.

“He’s been soothing my achy soul lately,” Lilly sighs, dropping into her seat, immediately crossing her legs so her foot brushes up against him. Shawn nods absently but his eyes narrow a little at his potatoes. Lilly’s grin takes up half her face.

“You’re jealous!”

Shawn completes the eye roll his face was begging him for. He finishes chewing and sits back to glare at her. “Of course I’m jealous. Why is my music not enough for your achy soul? Why do you need Mayer?”

The teasing lilt in Shawn’s voice just makes Lilly laugh harder. “You love him even more than I do.”

��I do,” he sighs, “Maybe we could FaceTime with him soon and he can soothe you directly.”

Lilly feels herself going magenta. Shawn doesn’t toss around his celebrity weight, or even work his friend connections very often, but when he does, he does it with purpose. Lilly attempts to stay cool. Ish.

“I would not say no to that,” she attempts lightly, but her face-splitting smile gives her away. Shawn grins knowingly and bobs his head.

“I’ll text him. Maybe I can talk to Taylor, too, get you your own personal Lover Fest.”

Lilly’s smile falters a little. Her gaze drifts to her plate. She shoves a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Shawn notices a shift.

“What?” His mouth is full.

Lilly swallows and lifts a shoulder casually. “I just didn’t figure you were really in a place to be asking Taylor for favors anymore.”

The song changes to a track Lilly doesn’t know. The air seems to crackle. Shawn sits forward as Lilly sits back. She manages to lift her eyes from her crispy chicken skin.

“What do you mean?”

Regret fills Lilly’s gut faster than the food. She takes a long sip of wine.

“I mean after what happened last year.”

He didn’t really need her to clarify, she knows. She also knows he doesn’t require further detail.

He comes up on his elbows, his brow furrowing. “I can probably guess what you think happened, but it’s more complicated than that.”

Lilly exhales and drops her fork, crossing her arms. Shawn looks alarmed.

“I have no doubt you can guess what I think, because you know me pretty well. And you probably also know I think it’s bullshit.”

Shawn’s eyes harden. “Lilly, you don’t know everything. You weren’t there. I don’t owe you an explanation for this, you weren’t involved.”

Lilly’s lips tighten at the corners, the kiss of death. Shawn’s shoulders tighten further, pulling up toward his ears.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think you don’t. Maybe that’s exactly what’s wrong,” Lilly jabs.

Shawn looks baffled. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who’s always telling me I don’t owe everyone everything. But now suddenly I owe people every detail? It had nothing to do with me.”

“You thinking it had nothing to do with you is a huge fucking problem, Shawn! It is a privilege! No one has threatened everything you’ve built. Why would they? You’re a white man. And you sat down and shut up when she needed you.”

The muscle in Shawn’s jaw twitches. “You don’t know shit about what I did, you weren’t fucking there. Stop pretending like you know everything. It’s fucking complicated, okay? Jesus, Lilly.”

Lilly deflates and folds her hands, pressing her forehead into them. “Let’s not do this. Let’s just not fucking do this, this was supposed to be nice. Can we not? I don’t want to fight.”

She looks up at him, pleading.

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. “I want to fight.”

Lilly blinks. “What?”

He nods urgently. “I do. I want to fight. Let’s fight, let’s figure it out and get through it. Let’s fucking fight, Lill, because it’s so much better than being fucking silent.”

Lilly swallows. Her stomach lurches. Shawn does not waver.

“Fine. Tell me, then. Tell me what you did. You texted her?”

Shawn scoffs. “I didn’t just fucking text her, I called her. We talked for like an hour. And if she were here, she’d tell you that and she’d say we’re totally fine, we’re good. Because we are.”

Lilly pushes a hand into her hair and feels the tears in her eyes. “No you’re not. You’re not fine. You showed up and did the bare minimum, Shawn, you’re not fucking fine.”

His eyes get huge. “What the fuck, Lilly? You don’t even know her!”

“I don’t have to!” she cries, throwing her arms up, “I don’t have to know her personally to know how many texts and calls she got from guys like you who felt bad but wanted to stay out of the way, stay in their lane, stay out of trouble. When you look at the ratio of women who spoke up compared to men, it’s fucking sad, Shawn. And honestly, I did not expect you to land on the wrong side of that, I really didn’t. But that was just the start.”

He narrows his eyes. “The start of what?”

“You shut down. You just… shut down. You got the girl and then fucked off. You have to know that’s what it looked like to everyone.”

“I fucked off because literally everyone was telling me to. Lilly, I swear to god, if you saw the kind of stuff people were saying to me, about me, about her…”

Lilly feels a chill down her spine. She’s desperate to crawl away from this.

“Shawn--”

“Everyone hated me. Everyone hated us. What was I supposed to do?”

Lilly chews on her lip and mutters, “Maybe not post that gross make out video, for one thing.”

He inhales so sharply Lilly looks up at him. His nostrils are flared. Did he get taller in the last two minutes?

“It was a fucking joke, Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, well, you were the only two who thought it was funny.”

Shawn takes a breath and scrubs his hands over his face, then back into his hair, holding it back as he stares down at his food.

“I know the video was stupid. It wasn’t supposed to make people so mad.”

Lilly shifts in her seat uncomfortably. She takes his olive branch and returns with one of her own.

“Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and defend your entire fandom. I know better. I know a lot of the shit you guys took was unfair. But the distance came from both sides, Shawn. You alienated them, they alienated you right back. It doesn’t matter who shot first. That distance is still there.”

Shawn doesn’t argue her point. He draws a crispy corner of Yorkshire pudding through his gravy and pops it in his mouth. “I really thought the Foundation would turn it around, but it only made it worse.”

Lilly winces. “But you get why, right?”

Shawn clicks his tongue. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“It’s hollow, Shawn. It didn’t feel like you. Your heart wasn’t in it. It was like someone put your name on it and said ‘okay, guys, tell us what you want this to be.’ I mean, what is it? What do you want it to be?”

Shawn looks hurt. Lilly wonders if she should’ve pulled back a little, then thinks about what he said earlier.

I want to fight.

Lilly realizes maybe she wants to fight too. If fighting means fighting for this, for them, Lilly will get her gloves on and go to work. She steels herself.

“The whole point was to give a voice to my fans, to be the way they can make a difference. Have them act through me. That’s what I liked about it!”

Lilly shuts her eyes. “But it wasn’t your idea.”

She knew that already without him having to say it. The circumstances made that clear.

“Andrew pitched it, but I approved it,” Shawn snaps.

“Then do something with it!” Lilly cries, “Show some ownership! Show everyone you care what it means, what it does. You’ve always been so good at that. It’s one of the reasons people love you so much. Why people were hurt when you disappeared. Suddenly you were either nowhere, or you were with her. People missed you. I fucking know I did.”

Shawn’s shoulders begin to sink. The tense feeling clenching around Lilly’s ribcage loosens. Shawn reaches a hand out, face up on the table. Lilly slips hers into his and watches his thumb rub her skin.

“I didn’t know you were still paying attention,” he whispers.

Lilly lets the past several months drift over her face. “I tried not to.”

What’s left of their food is cold. Mayer’s voice feels loud in the absence of their yelling. They gaze at each other, looking and feeling haunted. Shawn is first to break the silence.

“I don’t want it to be like this. I… I don’t think I want to tell everyone everything all the time, but I don’t want it like this either. I can’t be afraid to talk to my fans.”

Lilly nods. “There’s a middle ground. You can find it.”

Shawn studies the veins in the translucent skin of her wrist. “Will you help me?”

Lilly smirks. “When you want me to, sure. But you don’t need me for that, Shawn.”

He’s silent for a long time. Lilly watches the tears gather in his eyes as they soften.

“But I do need you. I fuckin’ need you, Lill, you know that right?”

Lilly nods eagerly. “I know.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied. “No, I mean, of course I need you, but I want you. I want you so bad, all the time, every day. In every way I can have you. You make everything in my life better. And I swear to god, if you let me, I’ll make sure I can do the same for you.”

Lilly squeezes his hand. Her heart swims up into her throat and pushes out the words she hasn’t said in almost a year. “I love you.”

Shawn illuminates from the inside out. His cheeks go a vivid pink. He squeezes her hand right back and pulls it up to his lips. “I love you too, Lilly.”

Lilly cups his cheek. Her smile is small and quiet, but it’s not fragile.

The song changes. The opening notes are so distinctive, they have Shawn and Lilly smiling knowingly in under three seconds.

“See?” Lilly squawks, “John just gets me.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back, holding his hand out to her. “Whatever. John may ‘get you,’ but I have you. C’mere.”

Lilly gasps, eyes sparkling. She looks to his face, then his outstretched hand, then back at his face. She’s vibrating in her seat.

“No!”

“Yes!” Shawn laughs. Lilly springs out of her chair and takes his offer before he can reel it back in. He holds their clasped hands to his chest and grins as she takes her place between his bare feet. They bob along awkwardly beside the table, cast in powder blue dusk from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Fucking finally, it’s like, why even bother putting John Mayer on if no one’s gonna ask you to dance?” Lilly crows, looking smug.

Shawn pecks the tip of her nose and pulls her closer. She rests her cheek on his chest.

“Now we see everything that’s going wrong

With the world and those who lead it

We just feel like we don’t have the means

To rise above and beat it…”

Shawn sings along and Lilly doesn’t even pretend like that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She stares up at him, delighted by his total willingness to satisfy even the little whims she doesn’t say out loud. They don’t notice when the song changes. Lilly magnanimously decides not to step on Shawn’s foot when he says that her body, too, is a wonderland.

But she does prove it to him again later that night.

Epilogue

July 28th, 2020

Lilly squints up at the sky. It’s so blue that her retinas ache, but she finds what she needs.

“Look! Look, a cloud. Not safe to fly. You should stay. Come on, chop chop, bags down. You’re staying.”

Shawn drops his backpack into the trunk of the town car. His eyes are hidden behind mirrored aviators, but Lilly doesn’t need to see them to know his smile doesn’t quite reach them.

“I’m going to remind you again this was your idea,” he sighs.

Lilly scrunches her face up in protest but it doesn’t push away the tears building in her eyes like she hoped.

He’s right. It’s been almost a month since they had the first conversation about it. It wasn’t nearly as scary when it was hypothetical. It started with an innocent comment, Lilly joking about Shawn not having anything to write about if they’re together and happy all the time.

“You need some angst. How are you ever gonna miss me enough to write about me if we’re standing on top of each other all day every day?”

Shawn brushed it off, but it took hold in both their minds. It was another full week before they had a real conversation about it. Lilly cried and Shawn stared in horror, then held her.

“We cannot become real again in a vacuum. I love you, I love this, but it’s not real life. I want you for real. I need this to be real,” Lilly pleaded.

Negotiations ran in circles for a while. Maybe they just needed a change of scenery, Shawn suggested. They could take a little safe vacation somewhere, rent a place in Malibu or Big Sur. Distance wasn’t the answer. It couldn’t be.

But distance is their reality when the world is not on fire. Lilly does not work in an industry that permits her to follow Shawn around on tour or promo. Even if she did, they agree that arrangement could get emotionally fraught pretty fast. Lilly argues they have to get good at the distance again, since that was one of the factors that broke them up to begin with. Shawn insists that if they’re lucky enough to be together and safe during this time of crisis, there’s no reason to give it up.

Back and forth, round and around and around again. There was no compromise to be made. They were either together or apart.

Shawn tearfully agrees one night. Lilly is immediately horrified.

“No. No, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go. Shawn, don’t go. Don’t let me bully you into this. This is a terrible fucking plan. Why would you leave? Everything is good!” she sobs.

Shawn wipes his eyes and tucks her into his chest so she can cry without him staring at her.

“You were right, Lill. If we’re ever going to be more than this, we have to start. We have to get better at it.”

“But this is already so good! Shawn, if you leave now, we have no way of knowing when we’ll see each other again. Things are already getting worse. What if you can’t get back?”

Shawn’s jaw clenches. It’s the one thing they haven’t said out loud. This distance could be more permanent than they intend for it to be if the pandemic continues to worsen in the U.S. There’s a possibility that if he leaves now, they won’t see each other again in 2020.

“We’re gonna figure that out,” he insists, wiping his hard calloused thumbs beneath her eyes, “If I have to marry you to make you a Canadian citizen and get you the fuck out of here, I will.”

Lilly’s heart skips a beat even as her eyes narrow. “What a romantic you are.”

Shawn chuckles, but it’s a dull, wet sound through his own tears. He arranges his pre-flight COVID test and buys a ticket home to Toronto the next day.

Without Shawn, and with her roommates calming down and staying virus free, there’s no reason to stay in this big house by herself. They take down the recording tent and send the equipment back. They carefully pry Command hooks off the ceiling, erasing the evidence. They latch up the doors on the balcony for good. Lilly’s car is packed; she’ll head back to Burbank right after Shawn leaves.

The summer breeze ruffles his curls, which she cut again recently so he doesn’t look like a sad sheepdog when he goes home to his mum, after the allotted two weeks of quarantining at his place in Toronto. He reaches for her, and her throat immediately burns, like it was holding off until he touched her again.

“I have terrible ideas. Don’t ever listen to me again,” Lilly half sobs. Shawn folds himself around her. She clings to him, digging her fingernails into the seams of his denim shirt. She feels his shaky exhale and feels ten times worse.

“What did I do?” she hiccups, “Why did I do this?”

Shawn lays his cheek on top of her head and sniffs before he speaks. “Because you want us to be real. Because you know it’s going to be different this time.”

Lilly breathes out slowly. Shawn loosens his grip and shifts to take her face in his hands. His cheeks are patchy pink, his eyes are a little bloodshot. He presses kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her lips. They kiss until they’re dizzy.

Shawn lets go, maybe because he knows she won’t. He reaches for the door of the car to anchor himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Lilly rasps.

Shawn nods. “I know. You know how much I love you, right?”

Lilly’s face crumples. She can’t speak. She nods.

Shawn smiles. “Then we’re gonna be okay.”

Lilly covers her nose and mouth as he climbs into the back of the town car. She stands there until it’s beyond the gates of the driveway and out of sight.

Lilly turns and looks up at the house. It’s not the first time she’s considered the mysterious magic of the place. In its age and grandness, Lilly knows hers is not the only gift it’s given. Theirs are not the only secrets it holds. She’s resigned to never knowing the rest, content with taking what it offered and hoping they left it with some of their own magic, too, for whomever needs it next.

----------

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bisexualcrowley · 4 years

Text

Breathe

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n turns to Frederick in the middle of a severe panic attack, and he guides her through it

Content/warnings: Panic attack, breathing troubles, unsafe driving, hurt/comfort, established relationship, end is hella fluffy

Word count: 1,584

Your eyes widened in horror at the sight before you, frozen in shock behind the window. You had headed up to the observatory on an anonymous tip sent to the FBI, saying that a figure had been seen carrying something suspicious into the building late at night. It was still dark when you arrived, and you used that to your advantage, parking a block away and sneaking in the shadows up to the building. Seeing a dull light through one of the smaller side windows, you stopped, silently loading your weapon and approaching the window.

Working alongside Will on the ripper case had forced you to prepare for the worst, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight inside the observatory.

Your hand clamped over your mouth to stifle a scream, knees buckling under you as you watched the horror inside. Dr Hannibal Lector, someone you had considered a good friend, had the frozen body of your coworker Beverly Katz laid out on a table in front of him, slowly sawing her into pieces. Shaking, you pulled out your camera and snapped picture after picture of the horrific scene before the panic fully set in.

Your brain shot into overdrive, stumbling backwards in a frantic attempt to get away before he saw you, slipping on the icy ground as you sprinted back towards your car. You threw open the door, falling into the seat and slammed your foot down on the gas pedal, car shooting forward and away from the scene.

You drove frantically, heart racing and praying that Hannibal didn’t see you, car speeding down the highway.

A sob escaped your throat, hands white knuckling the steering wheel as you sped around a corner, finding yourself at your boyfriend Frederick’s house. A voice in the back of your mind was telling you you shouldn’t have come here, the two of you hadn’t been dating long enough and he shouldn’t be dragged into this, but the thought was drowned out, the buzzing of the saw cutting apart your friend replaying over and over in your mind, and you stumbled out of the car, heart pounding as you scrambled up the steps and slammed your fist against the door, over and over and over. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, banging on the wood until your hands were bleeding. Finally you heard footsteps from inside, rapidly approaching the door, and you had the sense to step backwards, seconds later to be met with a sleepy and confused Frederick.

He was dressed in gray pajama pants and a white t-shirt, covered by a loosely tied blue silk robe, something you at any other time would have found comforting in contrast to his usually so put together appearance, but tonight exacerbated your feelings of dread

His eyes widened in shock at the sight on his porch, ushering you into his house and locking the door behind you.

“Sweetheart what happened? Come on, talk to me, are you ok?”

Frederick’s voice was quiet, hoarse from sleep, but with an unmistakable note of concern, and that’s when you lost it, collapsing against a cabinet and sliding to the floor, hands pulling at your hair as shuddering sobs wracked your body.

Frederick was at your side immediately, murmuring soft words of comfort and untangling your fingers from your hair, not wanting you to hurt yourself.

“F- fre- fred it- h- hanib- ha- hannibal- h- he- b-bev- beverly-”

Your words came out in panicked gasps, rocking back and forth on the floor, hands pulling at your hair again.

“Shhhhh, shh shh shh, it’s ok sweetheart, don’t talk, you’re ok, everything's ok. Just breathe, you’re ok” Frederick’s voice was soft, even after you cried out and slapped him at his attempt to put an arm around your shoulders, him settling at a close but not smothering distance after.

You sobbed even harder, choking as your throat tightened, gasping for air while trying desperately to get the images of Beverly out of your mind.

Everything was coming in waves now, nausea mixing with the panic, pain, grief, it was overloading your brain, all there was was death, pain, murder, pain. Your chest tightened more, hyperventilating, desperately trying to draw air into your lungs, but the effort proving futile.

Your eyes widened in fear, fingers coming down to yank at your shirt’s collar in another useless attempt to free your airway, and Chilton swore under his breath, flying forward and helping to loosen your constricting clothing.

“Shit shit shit, deep breaths honey, we gotta calm down a bit, ok?” Frederick moved to your side once more, cupping your cheeks in his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead, wincing at how you trembled beneath him.

You tried desperately to calm yourself, but each attempt making it worse. Your gasps turned into wheezing, head lolling downwards as your lips began to turn blue

“Fucking shit, oh god, cm’mere sweetheart, i’m gonna get behind you, ok? I’m not gonna hurt you, i gotta help you”

Frederick scrambled to get behind you when you gave a frantic nod of agreement, chest heaving painfully as tears began to fall again, and sucking in a desperate breath as Chilton tucked a hand under your chin and tilted your head back, freeing your airway slightly

“Sweetheart i need you to focus on my breathing, ok? Keep your back to my chest, and try to match me when i take a breath, alright? ”

His left hand came to rest just below your right shoulder, holding you securely against him as he took slow, deliberate breaths, chest rising and falling underneath you.

Your arm flew back behind you, fingers finding their way into your boyfriend’s hair, tangling there as you shook, breathing slowing slightly.

“Good job, oh you’re doing so well darling, come on, you can do it, keep breathing with me, deep breaths, there we go” Frederick praised, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

Slowly but surely, your breathing slowed, body untensing until finally each breath you took was taken with Frederick, who sighed in relief and released his hold on your neck, allowing your head to fall backwards to rest against the crook of his neck, your hand dropping from his hair down to rest on his wrist, thumb stroking his hand.

Finally trusting yourself to talk, you opened your mouth to speak, voice coming out a hoarse whisper.

“Freddy i... i saw the ripper. it’s Hannibal Freddy, he got bev... he killed Beverly, Freddy, and i couldn’t do anything, i took pictures but i couldn’t stop him, i-”

Frederick shushed you, wiping the newly fallen tears from your cheeks and shrugging his robe off, pulling it around to tuck the fabric over your shoulders, arms slinging around you to pull you into a hug.

“It’s ok darling... Nothing that happened is your fault, you did so well, going there, taking the pictures... You’re safe with me, y/n, everything’s gonna be ok” Freddy hummed against your ear, arms tightening around your waist.

“Come on, lets get you cleaned up, ok?” You nodded, sniffling quietly before shakily getting to your feet, Chilton guiding you with gentle movements.

“You’re alright darling, go take a shower while i call Jack, i’ll send him the photos you took and then we can get your hands cleaned up”

You had forgotten about the damage you had done while at Freddy's door, looking down sheepishly at your bloodied knuckles, but did as he said, taking a hot shower and emerging to find a pair of your boyfriend’s pajamas waiting on the counter for you to put on, and a steaming mug of your favorite tea in the living room, along with Frederick throwing bits of paper into the fireplace from across the room.

He smiled at the sight of you, and you managed a small smile back, taking the mug and tucking yourself into his arms on the couch he was seated on. Neither of you said anything for a while, as if speaking of what had happened would turn it from a hallucination to reality.

“What did jack say?”

You broke the silence with your question, thankful that the tea had soothed your voice enough that the rough edge it had before was almost gone.

Frederick leaned forward to pull a blanket over your entangled bodies, tucking it up around your shoulders and kissing your cheek when you snuggled further into him.

“He said the photos and crime scene were enough for a warrant for Hannibal's arrest. They took him into custody 20 minutes ago, and he says they never would have suspected Hannibal, he would have kept killing if it wasn’t for you”

You nodded, unable to find the right words for the situation, and settled on brushing your lips against Frederick’s and curling up on his lap again.

He smiled down at you, fingers combing through your hair, to which you let out an appreciative hum.

“Thank you Freddy” You mumbled against his chest, eyelids growing heavy. “for everything”

“Shhhh. Sleep now, darling, it’s been a long night” he whispered, continuing to stroke your hair, eyes glowing with affection at the sight of the sleepy smile you wore on your face, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you, Freddy”

Your words were barely audible, exhaustion clouding your voice and words muffled by the blanket, but Frederick heard it, and his heart skipped a beat, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“I love you too, Y/n”

#frederick chilton #frederick chilton imagine #hannibal #nbc hannibal #raul esparza #hurt/comfort #angst #hannibal imagine #fanfic #oneshot #requested #trigger warning #hurt comfort #whump #chilton x reader #chilton imagine #frederick chilton x reader #fluff #hannibal one shot

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whileyoursleeping · 4 years

Text

Habits

prompt: Just Eddie absentmindedly comforting Buck with a kiss to the forehead/head after a tough call. They aren’t even together and it just ends up becoming a thing they do.

idk man it’s been a long week i needed some fluff in my life

____________________________

Today doesn't feel like a win.

Buck joined firefighting because he got to be badass and help people at the same time, and that hasn't changed - he was telling the truth about that. He gets an insane rush from the bell going, from driving the truck with its lights and screaming sirens, from kicking in doors - people's worst days keep him on his toes and make him feel alive, and he'd feel bad about that if it weren't for the fact that he helps people.

They don't have deaths that often, really. It's a police thing, to go to the deaths. But sometimes the paramedics can't make it to help the cops out and then they're on deck and that's when things go sideways, usually.

He's broken five ribs of a nineteen year old today, a sweet and kind of frail looking girl who he thinks might've had an eating disorder of some kind - he knows what those look like. And her heart stopped, and they got there before anyone else, and he was the first to do CPR, the first to break her ribs, feel them give with absolute ease under his hands.

He feels everything. That's why he didn't join the SEALs. Because he feels it all and can't switch it off.

In the truck, Eddie's watching him. Buck resists the urge to squirm - Eddie knows him too well to think he's unaffected by today. He doesn't want Eddie to look.

Eddie taps his headset, then removes it. Buck follows suit reluctantly.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, loud over the roar of the engine.

"Yeah," Buck says, and he smiles, pretty convincingly if he does say so himself.

Eddie looks doubtful, but he pulls the headset back on, and they're quiet until they reach the 118. If Eddie shuffles a little closer, and Buck lets himself press his knee to Eddie's, no one says anything.

~*~

He's getting changed after the shift when Eddie finds him.

It's been a pretty shit day really. He's tired, and his leg is aching - it acts up when it's cold or when he's had a shit shift and he doesn't want to show it, so he grits his teeth and walks perfectly normally to his locker.

"Hey, Buckaroo."

It's Eddie's voice. He doesn't need to turn around. He lets himself feel a little warm at being called Buckaroo by Eddie, with the affection evident in his voice.

"Hey, man," he says.

"You want to come over tonight?" Eddie asks, stepping up to his locker near Buck's and beginning to shed his own uniform. "I'll pick up Chris from abuela's and we can have a pizza night. You still haven't seen Star Wars."

Buck wrinkles his nose. "I just don't get why people think Kylo Ren is hot," he argues.

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. Reminds me of my emo phase."

"Emo pha - what? Are there pictures?"

"Not that you'll ever see."

Buck pouts, and Eddie laughs. His face softens as he looks at Buck, and he steps a little closer.

"I'm sorry today was hard," Eddie says, sincerely, then pulls Buck down by the back of his neck and kisses his forehead.

Buck - because he's tactile and affectionate and loves being touched and having people near him - doesn't think twice about letting Eddie grab him by the neck, even when he's being pulled down again. He blinks, unsure of what to say, when he's let go.

But it felt nice. It felt really nice.

"Are you coming to pizza night?" Eddie asks.

Buck nods mutely. Eddie hasn't let his neck go. It feels nice to be held, even if it's just like this. Does Eddie even know he did it?

"Okay." He's let go, and he immediately feels cold, adrift. "I'll see you there."

~*~

Buck somehow makes it over to Eddie's, even though if you asked him he wouldn't be able to say how.

The moment he knocks, he can hear Christopher inside, yelling, "Dad, Dad, Bucky's here!" and the clatter of his crutches to get to the door.

Buck is ready. The moment the door swings open, Buck's grinning, pulling Chris up into his arms and swinging him around, resulting in a delighted fit of laughter. He kisses Chris's hair, inhales the little kid smell, and then puts him down.

"You always beat your dad to it, little man."

"That's 'cause he's slow!"

Eddie's laugh rings down the hallway. He enters a second later, in soft, worn blue jeans and a red henley that makes Buck's mouth feel kind of dry. Somehow, he feels underdressed in his own black jeans and white hoodie.

"Hey," Eddie says, and pulls him into a hug.

Buck - who is a touch-hungry, needy little pest at the best of times - melts into it, smiling so hard his face hurts. "I didn't miss pizza did I?"

"I made Daddy wait!" Chris crows. "Buck, come look at my science project!"

They eat pizza and Buck helps Chris with his science project, they play Mortal Kombat, and the night settles as Chris begins to yawn and requests a bedtime story from both of them. It's a little hard, two grown men crowded onto one single bed, but they manage, and Chris is out like a light halfway through the second story.

Eddie shuts the door to Chris's bedroom quietly and heads back to the kitchen. Buck has already started cleaning up.

"Don't do that," Eddie says. "You're a guest. Guests don't clean."

"Guests don't eat their friend out of house and home and then leave," Buck replies. Eddie smiles, then leans against the counter, almost nervous.

"Listen," he says, and Buck - detecting the change in the atmosphere almost immediately - sobers up, takes up a similar position, and waits to hear whatever this is - maybe the evening didn't go as well as he thought and he overstepped with the homework thing.

"I'm sorry about kissing you on the head," Eddie says. "I do it with Christopher when he's upset, and I was on autopilot. It was inappropriate of me. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't inappropriate," Buck says, flustered for a number of reasons (one of them being that he has never once in his life used the word "inappropriate" in conversation). "I liked it. It was nice."

Once realising what he said, he promptly starts praying for the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole, preferably for eternity. He's twenty seven and admitting he likes being kissed on the forehead. Fantastic.

"Oh." Eddie smiles. "That's... good then?" He looks a little awkward. "I just didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm not. Wasn't."

Eddie laughs. "You look pretty uncomfortable, Buck."

It's true. He's wedged himself into the corner counter with his hands deep in his pockets, makes a conscious effort to relax. "I thought I was in trouble," he admits.

"For what?"

"I don't know, something?"

"We gotta stamp that out of you," Eddie sighs, but his eyes are warm and face affectionate. "C'mon. You owe me a rematch."

~*~

It's sort of a habit after that.

They have some bad calls. Someone drowns, and Buck - who jumped in and pulled the guy out - shivers in the back of the firetruck in midwinter L.A temperatures until they get back to the firehouse. Eddie sits with him, puts a blanket around his shoulders, and presses a soft kiss to the side of his head.

Chimney's eyes just about bug out of his head, and Buck is almost ninety percent sure that Hen snapped a sneaky picture to show Bobby and Athena, but he's cold and wet and miserable and doesn't really care.

They send Eddie into the change rooms with him, because he's near hypothermic and they're worried about him collapsing. He gradually turns the water temperature of the shower up until it's scalding and stands there until his skin turns red and the shivering stops, and when he exits the showers, Eddie is there.

"You waited?" Buck asks, surprised.

"The last thing I want to have to tell Christopher is that his Buck died falling over in the shower because I wasn't paying attention."

Buck gets dressed, sits down on the bench, and sighs heavily. Eddie sits next to him.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

"I just... wish he'd made it." A lot of things don't make sense to Buck after the tsunami. Why he lived even while cut and bleeding and on blood thinners, barely a month out of a pulmonary embolism that also should have killed him, and so many others died. "Doesn't make sense."

Eddie sighs, puts his arm around Buck's shoulders again, and draws him in close, until their thighs are pressed together. Eddie's lips press into his temple again, and Buck sighs at the contact.

"Easy, cariño," Eddie murmurs into his skin.

Buck weighs his options. No one is looking for him because Eddie is here with him, and he wants so badly to snuggle down into Eddie's warmth, but he also knows the guy isn't necessarily as tactile as him and almost definitely straight - he had a wife after all - but it's been a long time since someone held him, and not the other way around.

He takes a chance, nudges closer and down until his head is mostly tucked under Eddie's chin. Eddie, for his part, just raises his head to make more room for Buck.

Someone will look for them eventually, Buck knows. Still, he waits for Eddie to end their half-cuddle.

"If you get lonely tonight," Eddie says, quietly, "there's a spot for you at my place."

Buck doesn't believe him now, when it's light out and he knows where he is, but later - when it's dark and he's woken from a nightmare - believing Eddie or not won't matter.

~*~

"Chris!"

He's sitting up, nightmare fading, panic whirling through his mind like a twisted merry go round. There's water, he's breathing it in, and everything is upside down and he can't breathe.

"Chris, Chris-"

He's out of bed, going God knows where, makes it halfway down the stairs before he slips and falls. He crashes to the bottom, and the impact serves only one purpose - waking him up.

He finds his phone, dials Eddie. It's the only action his brain is capable of taking, even as he hates himself for waking the man up.

"Hullo?" Eddie's voice, sleepy, comes.

Buck tries to take a breath, but it catches. He feels cold.

"Buck?" Eddie asks, his voice sharper. "Are you alright?"

"Chris?" Buck asks, shyly, feeling suddenly very stupid for panicking.

"Chris is okay," Eddie says, calm. "Are you okay?"

He hesitates. Eddie breathes on the other end of the line, grounding him. "I had a nightmare," he says, gulping, "about the tsunami. Fuck, Eddie, I'm sorry, it's late-"

"Come over," Eddie interrupts.

"What?"

"Come over. You need sleep and you aren't gonna do that alone."

"Eddie, it's... well, I don't know what time it is, exactly, but-"

"Come over, Buck," Eddie says, and the line cuts out.

Unsure of what else to do, and honestly a little soothed by being ordered around, Buck packs a bag of his things and heads to Eddie's. The house is dark when he gets there, but as he sits in his car - debating turning around and leaving - the front door opens.

It's Eddie, in sweats and nothing else. God really has no mercy on Buck today.

He piles out of the car, feeling childish and stupid, but Eddie only smiles at him when he gets to the front door. "You okay?"

Buck nods mutely, but Eddie's frowning, and that's when Buck realises he woke up crying and almost hasn't stopped, and that he's limping.

"Come on," Eddie says, taking Buck's arm gently. "This way."

"The couch is-"

"You aren't sleeping on the couch, Buck. It's freezing."

"But I-"

Eddie pulls him down and kisses his head again, effectively ending his sentence. "We'll stop by Chris's room on the way," Eddie says quietly. "You can see for yourself that Chris is fine."

His throat closes up, so when he says, "Thank you," it sounds quiet and wobbly.

Chris is, sure enough, fast asleep and fine under his covers. Dry, safe. Buck watches him for a few minutes, until Eddie pulls him gently, and they go to Eddie's room. It's sparse, compared to Chris's - everything Eddie has, he gives to his son.

There's something attractive about that. Buck will definitely not analyse the fuck out of it later.

"Buck," Eddie says.

"Huh - yeah?"

Eddie's smiling gently. "The bed isn't gonna eat you."

He's been standing there long enough that Eddie has stripped down to the cut-off sweatpants he wears to bed. He's watching Buck expectantly.

Buck shrugs his way out of his clothes. It's not that he's shy about how he looks - he works hard and he knows it shows - but being around Eddie makes him nervous. He feels vulnerable. It's almost nice, in a terrifying way.

"You are thinking so damn hard," Eddie groans. He's already in bed, on his stomach, hands beneath the pillow. He's got a tattoo on his spine Buck somehow hasn't noticed before, and his lats are defined as if he'd been hand-drawn by an artist.

"Sorry," Buck says sheepishly, and climbs into the other side of the bed before he can really stop to consider what he's doing. He's tired, and his brain is fogged by the stress of his nightmare, and Eddie is offering him something he doesn't know how to ask for, so he takes it. Selfishly, he takes it.

He rolls onto his side, away from Eddie, and closes his eyes, willing sleep to come. He's keyed up still, from the nightmare that shook him awake and the implications of what being in Eddie's bed could mean alongside the kisses, and if he lets himself drift too much he's back in yesterday, feeling the drowning man's ribs break beneath his hands.

(He never wanted to hurt people, only help them. It turns out those can be the same thing. Nobody warned him.)

"Buck," Eddie says quietly.

Buck jumps. He thought Eddie was asleep. "Yeah?"

"Roll onto your stomach."

He does. It's easy to do what Eddie tells him to. The other man has never led him astray before.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs, which is the only thing that stops buck from jumping when he feels Eddie sitting at his hip, and Eddie's calloused hands on his shoulders, massaging.

He didn't realise how tense he was. He relaxes, lets Eddie manipulate his head from side to side and dig his fingers into all the tender parts Buck didn't know existed.

He's falling closer and closer to the edge of sleep. Even as he does, his belly stirs with heat - he hasn't been touched like this for a long time.

Eddie finds a knot under his shoulder blade, pulls his arm out a little to open the joint up, and digs in.

"Ow!" Buck says, only remembering to keep his voice down at the last second.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie says guiltily. He'd jumped when Buck had flinched from the pain, and now he's rubbing gently, apologetically, at the kinks that make up Buck's spinal cord. "It's supposed to be relaxing. I didn't realise you were this tense."

"Me neither," Buck admits. "I was relaxed."

Maybe a little too relaxed. He's half hard, which means there's no way he's rolling over anytime soon. He wants Eddie to keep going - to maybe duck below the waistband of his sweats.

He doesn't think about it too hard. Being attracted to men is new, but it doesn't feel that different from being attracted to women. No, the part he's freaked about is that it's Eddie, and knowing Buck's streak of relationships, he'll almost definitely fuck things up.

"Good." He feels Eddie lay down next to him; his hand keeps moving up and down Buck's spine, soothing him. "Go to sleep, cariño."

Cariño, Buck muses. It sounds familiar, and affectionate. If he was more awake, he'd probably be able to work out why.

"Night," he mumbles.

"Goodnight, Buck."

~*~

He's half awake because the door is opening.

Sometimes, his SEAL training is effective. Sometimes, because he's out of practice and relaxed, it's not. Today it's at the halfway mark, where his body instinctively knows that someone is nearby, but doesn't care enough to react.

There's a heavy arm slung over his waist, and someone breathing nearby. Eddie, Buck thinks, and the knot of momentary panic in his chest eases.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me Buck was here!"

Buck groans, raises his head from the pillow to see Chris attempting to climb onto the bed. "Hey, buddy," he croaks. He reaches down with one arm, gets it around Christopher, and hauls him up. "Why're you up so early?"

"We're always awake this early," Eddie's voice mumbles. "Chris, we said no waking Daddy up before six thirty, didn't we?" His fingers flex at Buck's hip, and Buck wishes more than anything that Eddie was dragging him close to kiss him.

"It's six-thirty-five, Dad!"

Buck laughs sleepily, tucks Christopher closer to his chest. The kid goes easily, melts into his body and lays there with his hand on Buck's neck, grinning up at him brightly.

"Dad," Chris says.

Eddie makes a vaguely muffled noise that Buck thinks may sound like a prayer for death, but doesn't do anything else, other than sling his arm over Christopher's waist. His hand lands on Buck's hip, and Buck twitches helplessly.

"Yeah, buddy?" Eddie mumbles.

"How come Buck's sleeping in your bed?"

"Because he was tired."

There's a long pause, as if Chris is contemplating something - which is never good. "Mommy used to sleep in your bed too," Chris points out.

Dead silence falls over them. Buck freezes as Eddie, suddenly very awake, raises his head and looks right at Buck.

"I'm gonna go make breakfast," Buck says, and not only does he literally fall out of bed, he trips on his jeans in the doorway, causing Christopher to laugh and clap mercilessly. Buck loves the kid, but he's way too smart for his own good.

~*~

More close calls after that. Buck nearly falls off a ladder (again), which earns him a stern talking to by Eddie and a few off-handed comments from Chim about needing to lose a few pounds.

Eddie kisses him on the head that night before they leave, and Buck feels the spot his lips touched all night.

A week later, it's more of the same - a bad pileup and an overzealous Buck results in a burn to his hand, which is superficial but still has Eddie muttering in furious Spanish as he does first aid. Buck didn't know forehead kisses could feel angry, but this one does.

He decides to be more careful. Eddie's blood pressure can't take much more of this, he suspects.

Only even being careful Eddie finds reasons. He makes a perfectly logical call during a job and comes out unscathed (which hasn't happened in, like, three years at least) and Eddie is still worried and looking like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm fine, Eds," Buck says, and gives his best winning smile. "What, you worried about not keeping up with me?"

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Estúpido," he mutters, but he's almost smiling.

"Hey! I don't understand Spanish, but I can guess!"

Eddie finally cracks a grin and pulls Buck down by the collar to give him a quick kiss on the head.

"So," Chimney says, later, when they're getting changed. "How long have you and Diaz been a thing?"

Buck almost chokes on the muesli bar he's wolfing down. "Me and-? We aren't. We're not."

Chimney doesn't look convinced. "You sure he knows that?"

"It's just a, a thing," Buck splutters.

"I thought you said it wasn't a thing?"

"No, it isn't - we're not a thing, the kissing thing is a thing, it's not - it doesn't mean we're together! We're just friends!"

"Oh, please," Hen scoffs - she's waited for them outside the locker rooms. "Buck, have you seen the way that man looks at you? You aren't just anything."

"I thought he was gonna blow a fuse when Buck was hanging off that ladder," Chim says thoughtfully. "Just about tore strips off the maintenance guy for not fixing it better."

"He did?" Buck asks, a little awkward.

"Sure did, Buckaroo. He loves you."

Buck bristles. "I'm straight!"

Hen just outright laughs at that, and Buck wilts. "Well," he hedges. "I mean, I thought I was..."

"Honey," Hen says, "even I'm not resistant to the Diaz charm. You can't be held responsible for waving goodbye to straight in the rearview mirror."

Her and Chimney high five gleefully. Buck bangs his head dramatically against a firetruck. Just his luck that he'd end up falling for the guy who gives him totally platonic forehead kisses.

~*~

Things get decidedly more awkward after his revelation.

He's a floundering mess around Eddie, who doesn't even seem to take offence at it - he just smiles and laughs like Buck is the funniest person ever.

Everyone's having fun except him, given that he's trying to get his head around liking Eddie the same way he liked Abby and Ali.

The forehead kisses continue, except now Eddie's doing it when Buck's fine but Eddie's had a rough day. Buck considers starting except he doesn't know how to without making things infinitely worse for both of them.

Eddie notices he's being weird and brings it up all of once: "Look, I know you said it didn't bother you, but if you want me to stop, you can tell me to anytime-"

"It doesn't," Buck rushes to say. "Don't. I don't want you to. To stop that is."

God, hasn't the universe fucked with him enough already?

~*~

Eddie calls in sick two weeks later and Buck, because of who he is as a person, goes to the grocery store after work, picks up ingredients for soup, and goes around.

He's geared up to argue his way into the house, sure that Eddie won't want to see him when he's like this, so when Eddie opens the door to his knocking his jaw is set and he's ready to fight dirty to get inside.

"Buck?" Eddie asks.

"You look terrible," Buck informs him, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Thanks, Buck."

But he's right, Eddie does look bad. He's pale and his eyes are red-rimmed and he's wearing a hoodie, which he never does, that's a little too big on him.

"Bobby said you were sick," Buck says, "so I'm going to make you soup." He's nervous and trying to cover it up with confidence, and Eddie kindly doesn't call him on it. He just smiles a little.

"Do I get a say in this?"

"No," Buck says. "Where's Chris?"

"With abuela. I didn't want him to catch it. But she can't keep him a lot longer." Eddie's getting that hunted look in his eyes, the one he had when he first joined the 118 and didn't know how to access childcare and abuela had hurt her hip. "I'm not really up to looking after him either."

"I'll look after him," Buck says instantly. "We'll be quiet, I promise."

Eddie's face breaks into a smile. "You sound like you're trying to convince me to have a sleepover."

"Can we, Eddie? Pleeeease?"

Eddie laughs, coughs, and stands back to let Buck in. "Not that I'm not grateful," he says, "but why're you here?"

"I told you,, I'm making soup," Buck says matter-of-factly. "Go sit down somewhere."

Eddie takes a seat at the kitchen table, where he can watch as Buck works. Buck knows better than to pick this battle, so he says nothing, just starts unloading groceries from bags and chattering aimlessly as he gets preparing things.

"That was when the new guy slipped and fell right into it - grey water, man, pretty much the grossest shit you could ever go through and - that's my sweatshirt."

Eddie looks like a deer in the headlights, but Buck's certain he's not wrong. It's the white sweatshirt he'd worn here when they had dinner. After the first forehead kiss.

"Oh, really?" Eddie asks, so unconvincingly Buck actually snorts.

"Yeah." It's a little long on Eddie, but it fits well enough around his shoulders. "That's definitely mine. And you know it's mine."

"Sorry," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't be." Buck, a little slow on the uptake, realises two things simultaneously - one, that Eddie knew it was his sweatshirt and didn't return it to him, and two, that Eddie had knowingly put it on afterwards. He grins.

"You wanted to wear my clothes."

"Buck," Eddie says, almost whining. He's begging Buck to drop it but Buck has never known when to quit, even when he's ahead.

"My sweatshirt is your forehead kiss!" Buck crows.

"Dios mios," Eddie mumbles, holding his head in his hands. "Este imbécil no tiene idea..."

Buck feels like he should be at least a little bit outraged at the definite use of the word imbecile in that sentence, but he's too busy feeling warm and fuzzy at the idea that Eddie takes comfort in wearing Buck's clothes the same way Buck takes comfort in Eddie's forehead kisses.

"You love me," he says smugly.

Eddie looks up, then, smiling with his eyes warm and pinned on Buck, and Buck suddenly feels as though the floor has fallen away - he's looking at it, he realises. He said it as a joke, but he's looking at Eddie now and Eddie is looking at him and Eddie so clearly loves him it hurts.

"Te amo," Eddie says, still with that expression.

Buck doesn't need a translation for that. He knows what that means. He knows it means Eddie is putting his heart on the line for him, without much of an indication of how Buck feels at all.

He can feel how hard he's smiling, and if it hadn't been for the door opening he might've done something about the confession then and there. But then Chris is yelling, "Bucky's here!" and he can hear Eddie's abuela laughing in the background, and he goes to meet them - lets his hand catch on Eddie's shoulder, first, lingering, before getting to the door.

"Hey, buddy!"

Chris laughs as Buck swings him around. "No one said you were coming!" he says excitedly.

"I decided to surprise your dad." He puts Chris down. "You wanna help me make him soup?"

"Yeah!"

Chris heads for the kitchen, and Buck straightens, face-to-face with Eddie's abuela. She's smiling.

"Edmundo is very lucky to have a man like you," she says, pulling his shoulder until he leans down far enough for her to kiss his cheek. "Chico dulce."

He glows at the praise, at the acknowledgement that people know how Eddie feels, apparently, and that they think Buck is a good choice.

It's a quiet night after that. Buck makes soup with Christopher's help, then gets both Diaz boys situated in the living room. Christopher has math homework so complicated it makes both their heads hurt, but they have more luck with history, which mostly turns into Buck re-enacting some of the more dramatic civil war battles and attempting a poor English accent. Eddie - who has pretty much stayed on the couch since dinner - watches them and smiles.

Buck puts Chris to bed on time, reads him a story. As he's turning off the light, Christopher mumbles, "Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for taking care of Dad."

His heart swells. He leans down and kisses Chris's forehead. "Of course, kiddo. Sleep tight."

He leaves the door a crack open, with the hallway light spilling in, and goes back to the living room. Eddie sits up a little as he enters.

"About what I said before-" Eddie begins, his face worried and body tense beneath the blanket.

"Please don't take it back," Buck pleads.

Silence falls over both of them. Eddie stares at him, and Buck shuffles his feet around helplessly. Appearing small is hard to do when you're six foot two, but he's trying his best - it never worked with his dad, but it can't hurt to try.

"Buck," Eddie says quietly. "Come over here."

Buck obeys mindlessly, goes to the couch and folds down on it awkwardly. Eddie sits up - if Buck looks carefully, he can see that there are light tremors shaking his frame. Maybe the fever is breaking.

"I wasn't going to take it back," Eddie says gently. "I was going to apologise for blindsiding you, but I wouldn't ever take it back."

Buck opens his mouth, then shuts it. "Chimney was right," he realises aloud.

Eddie frowns. "Chimney?"

"Chim told me you loved me! And that that's why you were kissing me so often!"

Eddie smiles that patient smile of his. "Why else would I be doing it?"

Buck flounders. Is he seriously the last person to know about this? Why is it that everyone always knows these things before him?

Eddie laughs, then. "Buck," he says. "You look like someone killed your puppy."

"I'm dumb," Buck moans, sinking further into the couch.

"Hey." Eddie reaches out and takes Buck's face between his hands, sending an instant flush through him. "If I'm right, and you want this as well, then of course you didn't realise. Maybe it felt too good to be true. You're not dumb."

Buck blinks. "I want to kiss you," he says.

"You'll get sick," Eddie reminds him gently. "But if you stay the night, maybe tomorrow."

"Okay," Buck says, smiling. "I'll stay."

#buddie #9-1-1 buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #nibbles writes things

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lemondropsssss · 4 years

Text

Jaskier spends what feels like an eternity wrapped up in Geralt’s arms. He hadn’t expected the embrace to last so long, but each time he goes to pull away Geralt makes a glorious growling sound and tightens his grip and really, how is Jaskier supposed to argue with that? He feels safe for what he realizes is the first time in a long time. Geralt’s scent hasn’t changed, is still the same leather-sword oil-horse-musk that is somehow intoxicating. So he tucks himself under his Witcher’s chin and just breathes, and to his amazement Geralt lets him- no, wants him , is holding him as if he’s important, and it warms him from the inside out.

“We should get back to the house,” Geralt says eventually, voice rumbling in his chest as he pulls back and looks the scant inch down at him. Jaskier steels himself for whatever pity might await him when he meets his gaze but there is none. Just a kind of calm fondness Jaskier hasn’t seen before. “I don’t like leaving Fiona alone for too long.”

“She’s fourteen, I think she can handle a hot mug on her own by now,” Jaskier mutters, not caring that Geralt can absolutely hear him, but he steps away all the same.

Geralt grunts back, but Jaskier can tell he’s smiling. It’s all in the eyes crinkles, after all. “C’mon, say your goodbyes so we can go.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes but does go give Roach one last pat, reminding her that she is practically perfect in every way and such a good horse and better than Geralt and it’s not as if he actually walks anywhere, unlike some very good horses I could name. Geralt’s smile grows to almost-visible-to-the-naked-eye, but he soon pulls Jaskier away with a muttered, How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to fuck my horse, and the exasperatedly fond look on his face makes Jaskier’s stomach swoop.

He’s still angry. Still sad. Still doesn’t believe him, is still waiting for the moment Geralt will turn around and leave him alone in the dust like so many times before. It will hurt when he goes, surely, but at least this time Jaskier will be prepared for it. He’s built himself a life outside Geralt, his world won’t come to a screeching halt when he leaves. And maybe if Jaskier proves he can handle himself without his scary Witcher around, said scary Witcher would be more inclined to visit. But he does like this feeling. Walking side by side again, shoulders brushing companionably, how achingly familiar it all is.

The front window is vacant when they pass, and Jaskier assumes Ciri’s gone up to bed courtesy of Bea’s sleepy tea. He’s surprised then to find the teen sat up on the countertop, potato in one hand and paring knife in the other. She has a look of fierce concentration on her face as she works carefully, the tip of her tongue clenched between her teeth. Bea is close by, up to her elbows in flour and wrestling with a shaggy bread dough while still keeping a close eye on both Ciri and the pot bubbling over the hearth; the woman is a master, and Jaskier stops to watch her with a smile on his face.

“Geralt!” While he’d been distracted by the domestic scene, Geralt had come in behind him and was now crossing the room with the softest look Jaskier has ever seen on his face.

“G’morning, cub.” Geralt presses a kiss to her temple, and Jaskier has to stop himself from staring; both at the pet name and the very public display of affection. Public being only two other people of course, but that was still rather public to Geralt of Rivia. Ciri must be used to the attention for she pays it no mind, which confounds him even more. “Julian said you didn’t sleep well. More of the dreams?” He tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear and it’s the thoughtlessness of the motion that stands out to Jaskier.

This is a kind of casual and easy affection he’d only seen- well, that he’d only seen with him. Usually in a liminal time; in a shared bed some fuzzy between awake and sleep, or after the sixth ale of a long night, pressed together in a dark corner of a tavern. And Geralt would sweep a hand across his, or press their knees together under the table, or curl a protective arm around his waist while they slept. Seeing that affection here, in the bright light of morning is something he wasn’t prepared for, and he takes a seat at the table lest his legs fail him.

Ciri and Geralt are oblivious to his confusion; she’s showing him how her knife skills have improved, and he’s watching her with a kind of fond fascination Jaskier’s never seen before but finds he quite enjoys. He looks up suddenly, their eyes meet, and Geralt’s expression turns to something more Jaskier can’t even begin to place. This man who gives affection freely and without pause is not the Geralt familiar to him.

It isn’t long before Bea finishes setting out a proper morning meal, and Jaskier can’t help but feel a crippling domesticity as they sit down to eat. Their breakfast is porridge with honey and cream, sausages, and the good brown bread that Bea has refused to ever share the recipe for, no matter how much coin Jaskier offers her. She doesn’t sit to eat, which doesn’t surprise him, but she does continue to work on whatever lunch is going into the pot over the hearth.

It’s a good breakfast, and good company. Ciri does wonders towards greasing the conversation, and Geralt says more than a few grunts in passing, which Jaskier considers a monumental feat. But they came to him for a reason and needs must, so Jaskier steers the conversation back towards the business that brought them to his doorstep.

“When you came to me at the University, you said you needed help. What kind? Money, clothes, food?” It’s blunt, but Jaskier would rather know now what the price for this visit will be.

Geralt looks thrown for a moment before he answers. “All of the above. We’re heading North, towards Kaer Morhen. We need,” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the actual asking part of asking for help, “Money, yes, and winter clothes. Another mount. Fiona needs a better disguise; cutting her hair, dye maybe- maybe even for both of us.” He makes a face at that and Jaskier wants to laugh; Geralt always did love his hair. “We stand out, it makes us too easy to track. Nilfguaard is-” He cuts off, worried gaze wavering over Ciri, which she huffs at and continues in his place.

“Nilgfuaard is hunting us. Me, technically. They’ve been tracking me since Cintra. And they’ve killed everyone who’s tried to help me.” She doesn’t meet either of their eyes. “They’ll hurt anyone to get to me. Geralt is taking us to Yspaden to meet Yennefer, and then to Kaer Morhen together where we’ll be safe.” Ciri is somber and serious for a girl her age, and Jaskier notices she tucks her hands into her lap out of view.

His compassion for her is quickly overtaken by the creeping feeling of something cold sliding down his spine. Poor stupid little Julian who never learns, the voice inside him taunts, He has his child, has the great mage herself, what use is a washed up old bard to a Witcher? All he needs from you is money, he said it himself. That’s what this morning was, the idea twists around inside him and it hurts, physically hurts him to think it but he can’t stop, Nothing genuine, just a way to keep poor stupid little Julian on his leash. He doesn’t- couldn’t actually care for you.

“Right well, ah-” Jaskier’s voice is hard to his own ears, so he clears his throat before trying again. “That shouldn't be any trouble. We should ah-” His mouth runs dry and he’s just trying to get through this as quickly as possible so he can flee and maybe hide from his houseguests for a good few hours in the tub. But no, he is a mature and reasonable adult who is pleasant to his houseguests and who does not cry in front of them. Geralt is watching him closely with an odd look on his face, and Jaskier feels uncomfortably seen. “We should armor you too, you’re no use to anyone at all as a Witcher with no armour and only one sword.”

“Of no use to anyone at all?” Geralt rumbles, one annoyed eyebrow raised in Jaskier’s direction.

“The last time I checked you can still bleed, O Great and Mighty Witcher, and that shirt you’re wearing wouldn’t stop a butter knife.” For a moment they sound like they used to, and it doesn’t shatter his heart at all to hear. He clears his throat, trying to force down the hard lump of familiarity threatening to choke him. “We can get you a mount easy enough. I assume you’ll want one more Fiona-sized?” He winks at Ciri and she grins. “That shouldn’t be an issue, I have friends at the horse market who owe me a favor. Or several, as the case may be. As for clothes, we can go today to the seamstress on-”

“Pardon, Master Julian?” It’s Bea, a few paces away from the table. Jaskier knows she wouldn’t interrupt without cause, and gestures for her to continue. “You may want to dress the child down in things that look more travel-worn as to blend in. Fresh made clothes might fit well, but they’ll draw attention off the beaten path. I still have some of my Piotr’s things, I could fit them to her size easy enough. They’re a bit battered, but well made. She’ll need a new cloak though, I don’t think his will be warm enough for where you’re going.”

“Bea, you are a blessing from the Gods,” Jaskier beams, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of that. Of course they shouldn’t buy new things, fresh clothes are like a beacon to bandits on the road. Stupid, stupid Jaskier. “Auntie, do you have anything we can dye Fiona’s hair with?” He sends Ciri a reassuring smile across the table. “Your hair is beautiful, little one, but your Witcher is right; it draws too many eyes to you.”

Bea considers for a moment before she nods. “I’ve got a walnut dye that should do for her, aye.”

“Grand, you see to that, and I’ll go see a man about a horse. Huh. For the first time, possibly ever, I actually mean that.” He’s out of his chair and halfway across the room before he’s stopped by an oh-so familiar growl.

“I’ll go with Julian.”

“No,” He’s saying before he even turns around, “You’ll stay here with Fiona and get your hair colored.” Geralt looks like he’s about to argue so Jaskier beats him to it. “Or do you not remember that everyone on the continent is looking for you? If you’re not seen by a Nilfguaardian, you’re seen by a spy, or an informant, or some sad random asshole looking to score the reward purse. So you’ll be staying here, and getting your beauty treatment.”

There’s a stunned little look on his face that makes Jaskier more pleased than it should. He leaves them there, sure Bea will keep them on track and out of trouble, and starts the walk down the street towards the horse markets.

Jaskier wraps the heavy knitted scarf- a present from Bea on his last birthday- around his neck to keep out the first chills of autumn, but that does nothing to keep the ice from his heart. It began as a cool pinprick during breakfast, Geralt is taking us to Yspaden to meet Yennefer, and then to Kaer Morhen together where we’ll be safe and has shifted into a sharp spike of Yennefer, Kaer Morhen, safe that he doesn’t know what to do with.

He remembers the first time he’d asked where Geralt went in winter. He’d been twenty-two, or maybe twenty-four, and as with most stories they’d been drunk. He had wanted to invite Geralt back to Oxenfurt with him, but then Geralt had told him of the crumbling Witcher’s fortress, and the brothers he met there each year. He understood, when Geralt said it was the Witchers sanctuary and not a place for troublesome bards; when they were out in the world, Witchers could never relax, never take a deep breath for fear of killing or being killed. Of course they would need a place without humans, without others, where they could be free for a few months a year. Jaskier was never hurt that Geralt did not share that place with him- if anything, he loved that Geralt had somewhere safe and warm to rest his weary bones each year.

And Jaskier is a grown ass man, he will not begrudge a child being allowed to her father’s home but. But Yennefer. Jaskier knows about the sacking, he knows the last mages to set foot in Kaer Morhen were the ones who brought it crumbling down. If Geralt is bringing Yennefer that must mean they’re together. It will be Yennefer Geralt presents to his brothers, Yennefer who will walk the halls, explore the library, spend months curled up with her lover and their child and-

The honey-colored memory of their early morning embrace is souring in his mind; like black ink spilled over the image and corrupting it until there is nothing left but the acrid feel of Geralt’s arms around him and the burning knowledge that he was going to be left behind again. The promise of the morning means nothing now- Geralt will leave him for Yennefer like he always does, and Jaskier will let him like he always does, and the status quo will remain ever stable.

Jaskier should learn to say no when old not-friends show up at his doorstep, he really should.

He quickens his pace- if he hurries the sale, he might be able to convince Filip to take an early lunch and they can get spectacularly drunk in the hayloft like stupid teenagers instead of doing their actual jobs.

here are parts one two three four five. and the full story is on ao3 here

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt of rivia #Yennefer of Vengerberg #jaskier #ciri #geraltxjaskier #geraskier angst #geralt x jaskier #my fic #my fanfic

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slasherscream · 5 years

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cooking headcannons with poly Billy and Stu and their s/o? 😎 i feel like stu is the type to flip pancakes super high and get them stuck on the ceiling and billy is the type to just order in bc he gave up after 2 seconds

A/N: you’re braver than any us marine to be in a kitchen with these two

billy loomis x reader x stu macher ft. cooking for (with) dummies

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For this we are assuming you can cook and thus, fair warning, you will always be cooking. They’re not assholes so they’ll totally do dishes for you (Billy will. If Stu can worm his way out of a household chore he will do so by any means necessary) but why should they cook when you’re so good at it? Their logic? Unbeatable.

They both walk away real fast whenever you seem to be about to “teach them” something. They don’t want to know! You’re the chef of this house. Don’t be grouchy about your designation. How about some kisses? Would a kiss make all this free labor better? Stu sure thinks it will.

Billy kinda likes rigid roles in the relationship because it gives him the illusion of stability. So you always doing this one thing in the relationship is like a security blanket of sorts. Please get him some therapy-

Express to him that cooking can be a bonding activity as well as an important life skill to have and you’ve got him! He tends to like lowkey “dates” and more than that he really enjoys “couple activities” though he’d rather die than admit it. It’s because he wants you to spend 100% of your time with him and Stu. Like some kind of exotic leech you can’t get rid of.

Stu is gonna groan because work and he’s never cooked anything in his #Life but you can get him into the kitchen with both promises of affection and by strategically withholding said affection. He’s needy.

So you got them in there! What now? Strap in for the ride of your fucking life buckaroo-

Billy has a lot more cooking experience than Stu but like….not much compared to you. At least in terms of quality if not quantity. Meat. Breakfast food. Pastas. Crappy soup. Enough that if he was living in a college dorm alone he wouldn’t die. Eats raw vegetables (and fruits) but has probably never cooked one I won’t lie.

Only learned and figured out cooking because you know …MIA Mom. His Dad certainly didn’t buck up and learn that particular skill for the two of them. It was either takeout or semi-crappy Billy cooking.

Stu, if he wasn’t living with you and Billy, would have scurvy and he’d be dead. No cooking skills. Can’t cook ramen. Can maybe use a toaster. Perhaps even a toaster oven. If you ever leave him alone he’d die like a tamagotchi but faster.

Takeout and fast food are his only saviors. He knows all the numbers to every place that delivers by heart and he knows closing times and menus too. He survived his teenage years by the grace of his Mother, occasional family chefs, and God.

Start on the basics. Stu knows nothing and Billy is (shittily) self taught. This will be the most maddening part of living with the boys since moving in with them. They are struggling. You are struggling.

They’re good with knives so that skill translates pretty quickly. Everything else is a mess.

Stu you teach one skill and he goes overboard with it. Overzealous … if you will. So yes he will flip a pancake into the ceiling. He’s going to over-whisk/stir everything. And if you need him to chop something?? He’ll just sit there and mince it to shit. Anything you put in front of him. Minced to granule. Very proud of himself.

you: baby i needed it in chunks stu: :D you: nevermind. great job, babe-

He’s so eager to please he’s doing his best and genuinely following all instruction to the best of his ability. If you just hang in there eventually he’ll do everything you teach him to do just the way you taught him to do it. He’s a good student in that sense. Just… hang in there.

Billy can get all the basics of cooking down great. It’s the recipes and seasoning that’ll get him. The finer points of cooking will be his downfall. He’ll rage quit long before you can register his mounting frustration.

The type to not want to do something because they’re not immediately good at it? Billy? Never.

Stick with it and he’ll actually enjoy it to some extent. Doesn’t mind cooking alone but only really likes doing it when he’s doing it with you. He likes the normalcy and familiarity of it. Moving around each other like clockwork. Little jokes. Playful nudges. It’s a routine he’ll start to love, in all honesty.

Wiping down a counter (he’s a clean as you go type) and you pop up beside him with a spoon for him to taste? But wait! It’s too hot so you’re just gonna blow on it for a second first?? He started cool guy smirking like “god look at them” but missed the mark and it wound up a sappy “god look at them” smile.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again he’s a sucker for domestic life. He’s trying to build a love nest and you and Stu had better be on board, eager participants or so help you god-

Stu is good at all things prep work. He can still barely cook honestly but he won’t burn the house down trying to make something basic. He shines at breakfast foods like all men who can’t really cook but like to say they can. Could he offer you a waffle? Grits? Some perfectly cooked eggs? French toast?

If he can be bothered to wake up in the morning before you or Billy he will make you both breakfast in bed. It’s rare because he never wakes up first. Sweet when it happens though.

Always very careful about getting out of bed but Billy is the world’s lightest sleeper so he notices instantly someone’s left the bed. You’re up next because Stu cannot cook quietly under any circumstances. Pots and pans and banging of all volumes come from the kitchen.

You and Billy always share sleepy smiles before curling up together and dozing back off, all the while waiting for your boyfriend to come kick open the door dramatically while bearing food.

Billy eventually gets pretty good in general but he really enjoys cooking you and Stu’s favorite foods. These are things he can cook perfectly with his eyes closed. Were you moping today? Go take a nice, hot shower to relax. Come back and oh wow? Your favorite comfort food on the counter. Where’d that come from?? If you gush over it he acts like it’s no big deal but he loves the praise and loves babying you. Want him to stab whatever made you upset? Just asking! Just as a side note! No? Fine.

Stu cooks/helps you prep mostly so the “who’s turn is it to do the dishes” debate will be more confusing and in the end Billy will usually wind up doing them to avoid a secondary Great Stalemate (there was a lot of bastard energy in the house the first year of living together. it mostly belonged to Stu). Also does them because Billy’s a softie for you ….and Stu, admittedly. Why else would he not stab him when you all know it’s Stu’s turn to do the fucking dishes-

Billy wants to try and cook something new with you once a month. You guys don’t really have set date nights (billy vc: lame) but if you did this would be one of them. Stu loiters but rarely joins the actual cooking process. Mostly just hanging out in the kitchen while you and Billy work your magic. He will distract one or both of you with dancing and singing.

Dancing may begin as lighthearted and goofy but be wary and wise — he can get the drop on you and make it groping and grinding quicker than you can say “burning food-”. Billy? 50/50 chance on him prying you away from Stu and scolding him because you’re both busy or him joining in.

You have all nearly set the house on fire because somehow Stu wound up on his knees between your thighs, Billy’s hands tangled tightly in his hair while he whispered feverishly what he wanted to do to you in your ear.

If it had been a scary movie you all would’ve been killed since you literally didn’t notice the small stove fire until Billy jumped out of his skin with a yelp of, “Oh shit!”

If you don’t live a long life with these disasters you’ll live a short but sweet one together.

——————–

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #scream #slasher imagine #the only task more unbearable and impossible to do with them is driving

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