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wheeboo · 8 months

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three silly little words | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. the three times you and jeonghan wanted to confess those three silly little words for each other, and the one time you do. PAIRING. jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, slightly suggestive at the end, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, i have a thing with jeonghan w neck kisses, terms of endearment, jeonghan is just so whipped for you like, you both are a lil drunk n cute n v much in love at the end WORD COUNT. 2.6k

notes: happy birthday to our beloved angel!

ONE.

The first time was so sudden. The moment was just so mundane, simple, just so miniscule, but Jeonghan knows that it doesn't make much for him to feel so weak for you.

How can he not feel that way when the first thing he sees when he wakes up is you stepping out of his bathroom, hair wet from a shower, clad in one of his shirts that you must have stolen from his closet beforehand? The two of you aren't officially living together yet, and it's only the second time you've slept over and stayed the night at his place voluntarily, yet Jeonghan feels his heart take a giant leap in his chest, even through his half-asleep brain and the grogginess of just waking up.

Once you catch sight of his eyes, you feel your cheeks flush, and you playfully tug at the collar of the (his) oversized shirt you're wearing, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"Why... Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask.

Jeonghan just tilts his head slightly, face softening. "Like what?"

You roll your eyes playfully, placing yourself down next to him on the bed. "You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually, would you care to explain to me?"

You let out a small laugh as you scoot closer to Jeonghan, your hand finding its way to his cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair from his face. And when your hand rests rightfully on his face, Jeonghan leans into your touch, closing his eyes momentarily as he relishes the feeling of your hand against his skin. The morning sun casts a warm glow across the room as you feel his fingers trace delicate patterns on the back of your hand.

And in that moment, there's a sudden realisation that bursts within your chests. It's loud, almost raging, even in the quietness that lingers this early in the morning. You both exchange a knowing look with each other𑁋there's a vulnerability there, a hint of recognition. But neither of you dares to vocalise it. Not right now, at least. You both have danced around the feeling for so long that the hesitation has grown considerably.

It doesn't take long for a coy smile to etch across Jeonghan's features, before reaching out to pull you down onto the bed with him. You laugh as you tumble into his arms, and he wraps them around you, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

Then his lips, soft as a sigh, presses a kiss to the top of your head, a sweet delicate caress of affection.

You both choose to stay silent.

TWO.

The second time was when you had came down with a cold one day, and you found yourself drowned in a nest of blankets and pillows that Jeonghan had arranged for you on your bed. It was a miserable day for you, with a stuffy nose, a pounding headache, and you could barely speak without your voice cracking. But even with this, he still continues to dote you, care after you, even taking the day off of work to watch over you.

"You don't have to do all this, you know," You mumble, throat scratchy from all the coughing.

All he does is gaze at you with that tender look and faint smile that doesn't waver, even in the face of your stupid cold and absurd bedhead. Jeonghan reaches over and places a gentle hand on your forehead, his touch cool and comforting.

"I know, but I want to, angel," he tells you. "Taking care of you is the least I can do."

You smile weakly at his words, your heart melting at the endearment he uses𑁋it's his favourite one to use for you, he's told you (and there's many other things he wants to call you too, even something as ridiculous as schnookums or as intimate as simply love, my love). You remember the way he first said it, almost shyly and unsure like he was revealing a secret, and how it made your heart skip a beat and how it made his own swell out of his chest.

"Let me go check on your soup, okay? I'll be back." You give him a nod as he stands up to leave you in the comfort of your bedroom for a few minutes, giving you the chance to let out some low coughs that itches the back of your throat uncomfortably.

He emerges back into the room with a steaming bowl of soup, and the aroma instantly fills the room, making your mouth water. Jeonghan carefully places the bowl on the bedside table and adjusts the pillows to help you sit up a bit.

"It's homemade chicken soup, just the way you like it." He hands you the bowl, and you take another waft, already feeling its soothing effects on your irritated throat and congested sinuses. He definitely did not text your mother beforehand, but the soup smells just as good as hers, if not better.

Jeonghan watches you with a soft, adoring gaze as you take your first cautious spoonful, ensuring you're comfortable and not struggling too much. The flavours of home relish on your tongue, eyes widening up to him as you take another sip, and another, and another.

"Gosh, you're an angel," You rasp out, voice still a bit rough.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "You're the real angel here," he replies, eyes filled with affection. "Gotta make you feel better so your pretty smile can brighten up my day again."

You can't help but blush at his sweet words, even though your cheeks are already flushed from the fever. As you continue to eat, he stays by your side, occasionally offering you sips of water and making sure you have everything you need. The combination of his care and the delicious soup begins to work its magic, and you can feel your energy returning, even if it's just a tiny percentage.

And when you finish the last spoonful, he helps you set the bowl aside as you lay back down in the comfort of your bed, letting out a satisfied sigh. His eyes remain on you for a bit, and you can tell he's about to say something𑁋the thought makes your heart race.

"I'll let you rest now, okay?" There's a slight tickle to your chest that had made you anticipate for something else, but all you do is give a nod. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be in the living room."

"Okay," You respond, watching as he picks up the empty soup bowl from your bedside table before beginning to make his way to your bedroom door. But just as he's about to leave, you call out impulsively, "Hannie?"

Jeonghan pauses, looking back at you curiously, and a bit worriedly.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you lock eyes with him, and for a moment, you contemplate telling him those three little words that you've been holding onto for so long. You can feel them hanging at the tip of your tongue. You want to tell him how much he means to you, but as you look into his eyes, you hesitate. Maybe it's the fever or the vulnerability from your cold, but you can't bring yourself to say it just yet.

Instead, you offer a shy smile and say, "Thank you... for taking care of me."

He smiles softly.

"You don't have to thank me, angel," he replies. "I enjoy taking care of you."

And with that, he leaves the room, and you watch as he disappears from sight, your heart still pounding in your chest.

THREE.

The third time was just... rudely interrupted. The two of you had taken a weekend trip to the beach, craving for some time away from the bustle of everyday life. The sun was warm, the skies a beautiful clear blue, the sand beneath your toes was soft, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was nothing short of a peaceful.

You and Jeonghan found yourselves strolling along the shoreline, hand in hand, leaving footprints in the wet sand. The wind tousled your hair, the fresh scent of the sea air filling your lungs, and you couldn't help but feel utterly content.

Jeonghan shoots a few glances toward you, the sunlight playing on your features casting a gentle, golden glow on your face. He admires the way your hair dances in the breeze and the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the reflection of the sea. In that moment, you appear nothing short of ethereal that leaves him completely spellbound. You just look so beautiful and he makes it a promise to tell you that for as long as he can.

You steal a glance at him as well, the sun kissing upon his face, noticing how he's lost in thought, with his free hand tucked into his pocket and his expression pensive.

"You okay?" You ask him, letting a thumb caress gently at his hand.

Jeonghan's gaze shifts from the horizon to you, your voice snapping him out of his reverie, and he offers a faint smile. He squeezes your hand in response, appreciating your touch and the concern in your eyes.

"More than okay," he assures you warmly. "Just taking everything in. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You nod in agreement, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The scenery is undeniably breathtaking, but it pales in comparison to the way he looks at you, and the way he holds your hand as if it's the most precious thing in the world.

And little did you know, the two of you were thinking just how perfect this setting is. It's ideal, romantic, just enough to set the backdrop to the three little words you've been wanting to say each other for the longest time. When the two of you take a moment to stop and pause to overlook the calm ocean waters together, Jeonghan turns to face you.

"Y/N, I..." He pauses, before continuing, "You know that I𑁋"

But just as he's about to finish his sentence, a seagull swoops down suddenly, interrupting the moment with a loud and unexpected squawk. It starts the two of you simultaneously, and you let out a surprised yelp before turning your attention to the noisy bird that had landed on the sand nearby.

The seagull stares at both of you with its beady eyes, seemingly unapologetic for the interruption. You and Jeonghan both exchange a puzzled look with each other, trying to suppress your laughter together.

"Sorry, what were you going to say?" You ask him.

Jeonghan's lips purse together, glancing between you and the noisy bird waddling it's way towards you. He lets out a sigh.

"I'll... tell you later, don't worry about it," he reassures you.

Then the seagull squawks again, as if offering its commentary on your conversation. You and Jeonghan burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. As if sensing it had done its part, the seagull finally takes flight, soaring back into the sky and disappearing into the distance.

It's quiet for a few moments, and the opportunity was still there, but it wasn't until you both can overhear some loud chatter in the distance. Jeonghan's eyes trail behind you, seeing a large group of beachgoers making their way towards your spot. He feels the snake of frustration crawl up his spine.

However, he feels that frustration dissipate when you grab a hold of his hand again, and he's met with your bright smile.

"Take a little dip in the water with me?"

He can't help but grin back. "Absolutely."

A smirk crosses your face as you are quick to kick off your shoes. "Loser has to get splashed!"

Jeonghan just yells out your name as you dash your way to the water's edge, also taking off his shoes and hurriedly rolling up his pants. He chases after you, and it isn't long until the water reaches your ankles. The calm waves lap gently at your feet, the cold seawater sending shivers up your spine.

And once he reaches you, he grabs your hand and spins you around to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.

FINAL.

And the one time it happens, the situation wasn't entirely... the most ideal. It was late at night, the two of you were returning home from a birthday party for one of Jeonghan's friends, and for most of the time you had found yourselves separated away from each other.

You are both also a bit tipsy.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking for you, or the fact you both felt as if you haven't seen each other for weeks on end, yet nothing but your chuckles fill the air as Jeonghan drags you inside his place. And once the door closes behind𑁋the two of you finally alone together𑁋his lips are immediately locking onto yours, both firmly and gently, making you stumble backwards until you feel your behind hit the back of the couch.

Your senses are heightened by the remnants of alcohol in your system, and your head spins with his lips moving against yours. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him, the heat of his body pressing against yours. His kisses were sweet and addictive, like they always are, also a bit clumsy, and you could taste the hint of red wine on his lips.

You feel his kisses travel from your lips to your cheeks and down to your neck, planting soft, loving pecks along the way. You couldn't help but let out a contented sigh of pleasure, your hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, feeling the way his breath brushes against the skin of your neck.

"Missed you so much, beautiful," he mutters against your skin, sending goosebumps to dance on your skin as he continues to pepper your neck with tender kisses.

You couldn't help but smile, a gentle, tipsy grin spreading across your face. "I missed you too."

As you break away for a moment to catch your breath, Jeonghan's forehead rests against yours, and you both giggle softly. The room spins slightly around you, a dizzying combination of alcohol and desire. You feel his hand trace delicate patterns on your waist, sending shivers to run up and down your spine.

You can feel your heart beating faster as you lock eyes with him, his dark, dilated pupils filled with a longing that matches your own.

"You know," he begins, eyes fluttering and voice a soft, alcohol-tinged murmur. "There's a secret I've been wanting to tell you. You can't tell anyone."

Your heart flutters, and you lean in closer, eager to hear what he has to say. "Tell me."

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of his lips, and he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing, almost torturous gentleness. The scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body envelop you.

"I love you."

Those three silly little words hang in the air, and it feels like time stands still. You're no longer tipsy (even though you still kinda are); at this point, the alcohol has sharpened your focus, and you're acutely aware of everything around you.

"I'm so in love with you, angel, I feel like I might lose my mind."

If it was possible for you to burst, then that's what your heart does right there. You feel a rush of warmth flood your body, like a deep breath you've been holding onto for years, and you kiss him this time. Just briefly, because it was all too overwhelming right now to use your voice when that itself feels like it's not enough.

When you finally catch your breath, you whisper, "I love you too, Jeonghan."

Jeonghan's eyes simmer with an intensity that pierces right through you.

"Say that again," he breathes huskily.

A playful grin forms on your lips. You lean in even closer, your lips nearly brushing against his as you repeat those three precious words again and for the rest of the night.

And all the nights after those.

"I love you, Jeonghan."

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kalims · 2 years

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‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room 'cause all I see are girls too good to be true"

jealousy, jealousy,

I reckon yuu has atleast some people admiring them for their 'heroic' acts for each dorms, ironically enough

characters. riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus.

includes. gn!reader, flowers aren't limited to girls.

cw. each has a student from their dorm/another liking reader, book 5 spoilers? kinda.

note. this was supposed to be for celebrating 4k and originally I had a fic that I was supposed to publish but I got really busy w/ school and stuff so I supposed I'll just drop this 😚 I'm also sick btw *cries

if someone asked you; "what do you think the students see you as?" you'd probably answer, "a wannabe I guess." technically you were sure that you were right about your guess. if there's anything that you'd know about a school that worships villians is that they'd hate someone whose the polar opposite.

which is you, with you basically 'saving' the dorm leaders and all. atleast the person in question didn't seem to pick at you for helping them and not going like 'I don't need your help.'

which is also why you're.. shocked to say the least when some random student you can't say that looks familiar hands you a bouquet of flowers, clearly flushing at your stare. you notice a white envelope tucked into the variety of flowers as well as a box of chocolates.

funnily enough you wondered if twisted wonderland celebrated valentines day on a different month.

albeit the possibly hundred other gazes from the other people. why'd they have to do this in the cafeteria exactly? it would've saved you the trouble if they did it on a more private scale.

you can only smile at them politely. honesty feeling a mixture of embarrassment and shyness cause you've never received such a bold confession yourself. "thank you?" you feel a little bad when they deflate at your short answer to their gifts but nevertheless pleased.

"you're welcome. I tried to pick out the flowers for someone as special as you but it can't compare." they absent-mindedly state. you can't hide the grin on your face, you just met this person and they're already flattering you. it feels nice to be appreciated.

kinda cringe but you take it back this person is really cool.

— riddle rosehearts

bystander number 1. who wants to collar that person by anger, along with jealousy then proceed to stomp away. riddle would actually do that but only when you're not around cause you'd probably not be too happy if he punishes your 'friend' and he wants you to see him as the 😇 reliable young lad everyone loves.

suddenly had the will to impress you and one upped everything the other person did. so they got a 49 on the magical analysis test? that's too bad, riddle got 50. get on his level. so they answer correctly only when called? well riddle's voluntarily raising his hand and getting them all correct. oh they can cook?

oh well. he can do everything else better else than cooking so it doesn't really matter. you'd be a fool to choose someone else over him. but he supposes its part of the charm, infatuatingly enough.

— leona kingscholar

bystander number 2 who either just doesn't care or is secretly really mad. knowing leona it's probably the latter because it's leona and if there's something he hates it's probably getting upped by some random person whom he's clearly better than. you must be really blind if you have the audacity to ramble about said person to him.

went really grumpy for the span of days to weeks. ruggie literally would do anything you ask if it meant that leona's gonna be to his old self, lazy sure but he didn't used to place this much work on him!

your fault or not you'd probably also get affected by his drastic change of attitude. bro literally ignored you as well as everyone else, reverting to his mean self but treating you with more bitterness. it's probably not your fault but he doesn't regret a thing because you actually look upset when he pays you no mind. so you do feel something for him 😒😏. flashbacks to kaeya

— azul ashengrotto

bystander number 3. who's borderlining between wanting to get depressed then crawl in his octo pot to cry and absolutely ruining everything this random cheap made. I mean, really? those aren't even your favorite flowers! where did they get them, at the nearest dollar store? if he were them he'd give you the most expensive flowers you'd ever lay your eyes on!

and that's what he does actually; literally showed up on your doorstep with a handsome smile and gave you the most prettiest flowers you've seen yet. consider yourself charmed! bro literally made you forget about that other person for days until you saw them like a month later which is kinda bizarre..

the twins don't let you know that azul put them up on a 'job' to keep em' away. but it does use for good blackmail material against the jealous octopus.

— kalim al asim

bystander number 4. legit doesn't get jealous. kalim literally is just happy that you have admirers like him because you deserve it! he'd be more upset if you didn't have admirers honestly. okay but lowkey though, he isn't trying to compete at all but you receive a large bouquet, definitely much grander than the one you received and a heartfelt letter tucked into it.

how was that person supposed to win you over when kalim does it better?? ok but this is like the jamil situation in book 5 LOL.

if he actually somehow gets jealous he feels bad because he knows he'll do it better ( not condescending /gen ) so he just resorts to trying to win your affection and forgets about not trying then completely overshadowed the other person's previous attempts. bro only spared a 'I feel bad' look then smiling again because yay! you like him better now :)

— vil schoenheit

bystander number 5. AKA, the one who knows he'll do better and actually does do it better ( condescending ). vil doesn't even bother doing anything cause he trusts you enough to make the.. correct, choice. you do know that he's one of the most sought off person in the world, right? you'd be a fool to not see that.

okay but maybe he is a little paranoid that you actually will choose them so he actually does put in effort..

I mean nearly everyone is scared terrified of rook right? what's one more person to the count? he totally does not purposely send out rook to stalk them so he can expose them on social media .. or make him stall them somewhere so he has the chance to whisk you away and you losing the ability to see them for this day.. oh well, it's better to just spend it with vil since you're free anyways..

— idia shroud

bystander number 6 who was there but actually not there..? physically not present but he was there, somehow.. *looks at camera in the far, FAR corner of the ceiling*. idia doesn't know whether to start crying because you actually looked happy with their CRINGE. confession.. the crying is a more intense period than azul's btw.

or.. actually there's no or, that's just what he's gonna do. close his electronic device, crawl into his bed and cry into his body pillow. fear not. little brother ortho to the rescue! ortho actually suggested destroying any evidence of a 'disappearance' if that poor soul just happened to not be present for years but idia quickly shot that idea down, he actually pondered on agreeing but no way he's gonna let them win by that!

hijacks all their phones, PC's, whatever other stuff so that it's completely off, no other person can fix it besides him. and he's definitely not gonna do that so the person ghosts you for weeks, so you get mad and ghost them irl.. wow his masterplan actually worked. no ortho pls don't force me to 'comfort' them..

— malleus draconia

bystander number 7 who genuinely doesn't see the appeal of this basic little b— human :). like? hello?? he's right here, open your eyes child of man. no need to tolerate the pathetic display they just did that doesn't live up to your very existence, they might as well compare you to gravel on the floor from how poor they executed their weird analogy.

he could legit go on and on about every single feature you have, your eyes, mouth, face, shape.. he would present you a microsoft presentation for it if you ask and it literally is godly description type of thing. you could finish listening to one of them and you'd be in TEARS ☠.

bros so sentimental. he thanks lilia for the advice of microsoft presentation because you now look completely convinced. malleus has the pride to spare the other person a smirk when your attention is fully on him :D.

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performing-personhood · 3 months

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I learned a kind of funny thing and I need to tell you bc it's important, cmere. Lean in so the others can't hear okay?

Ok so like

I know that the reason we are the way we are is because at some point we took up some space - as people do - and someone turned to us and went "whoa, excuse you! What do you think you're doing" or something, right? And they were, like, surprised and offended that we took up space and told us to stay real small and subservient? And we were pretty young, you and me, and we didn't really grok Peopling yet and so we assumed that everyone else was going to have that expectation too?

Okay I just learned: that isn't true at all, that person was just an asshole.

Babe. BABE. This is big.

Ok do you realize ??? that most people when they're around someone - anyone, this is important, it's an unconscious reflex and happens rather automatically - and that person is like "I have an opinion and desires and also some needs and I am going to express them openly" Did you realize, because I didn't, that most people completely intuitively go "oh! There's another person here! Lemme just scootch over so they fit better :)" PEOPLE MAKE ROOM FOR YOU.

People don't ignore us, when we're silently having wants and needs and waiting our turn to be noticed, they just have similar very loud brains and have no idea because beung corporeal is Distracting™️. Not only do people just need a reminder that you're there, they're totally happy to accomodate. In a distinctly "ope! My bad, lemme just- here-" sort of way.

My spouse has a loud brain and drowns it out with Mario Kart. I've spent most of my life quietly entertaining myself in all of these instances, because at some point someone told me I was supposed to "go play" and nobody wanted to play with me so I entertained myself right? Okay. Well I recently had a sea change and decided I was gonna pop my headphones in and watch TV on my tablet when he was doing his Mario Karting. Because the boy will easily go for four hours and I just spontaneously realized that it would actually be ridiculous if he got butthurt at me for putting some quiet tv on for myself instead of watching a grown man play the same video game for hours.

You know what happened? Not only did nobody's feelings get hurt, but I have never made it more than twenty minutes into a show before he ends a match and switches the console off. And I have never asked him to do so. When I'm over there doing my own thing with my own TV show like a person instead of just scrolling on my phone trying real hard not to exist, somewhere in his unconscious he goes "there's a whole other human being on the other end of the sofa from me. I want to turn this off and engage with that person!"

Okay do you understand what I am telling you??

When you behave like a human person and treat yourself like a human person, other people also instinctively treat you like a human person and they're happy to be reminded that they get to engage with you. The person in our past that reacted differently and got mad at us for being a person, plainly and simply: they were just being an asshole to us.

The people we love want to engage with us. Almost all of them!!! And not only that?? Most other human beings feel the same way.

Huge. Big huge.

Don't take my word for it baby cakes okay, take a sec and muster up the courage (it'll be scary the first time, but the thinking about it is always scarier than doing it I swear) and then get back out there and practice being your very own human person occupying human people space, around someone who loves you, and just... watch what happens. The first time someone warmly, graciously, voluntarily accommodates you is the greatest feeling a corporeal being can experience, and you deserve it too.

#recovering people pleaser #recovering from abuse #recovering from trauma #recovering codependent #recovering from cptsd #cptsd recovery #actually cptsd #just neurodivergent things #actually neurodivergent #mental illness #things I learned in therapy #therapy works

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carlsdarling · 11 months

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Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader where she’s Negan’s daughter………featuring hate sex

No Mercy

Y/N is Negan's daughter and is being held hostage in Alexandria. Y/N and Carl hate each other passionately. How will this end? Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly violent sex (consensual), abusive language

Annoyed, you looked up and dropped your book when you saw someone coming towards you. Of all people: Carl, the jackass himself.

After Rick and Daryl had found you injured out in the woods a few weeks ago, very close to the Sanctuary, and had taken you to Alexandria, you were confronted with Carl every fucking day. Like it was some special punishment they'd come up with for you because you were Negan's daughter. When Rick had found out your identity - that hadn't been particularly difficult, because your father had soon shown up at the gates of Alexandria, angrily demanding your handover - he had decided to keep you as a captive. While you were allowed to move freely within Alexandria, you had no access to weapons and were not allowed to leave the city. Neither alone, nor in company.

But the absolute worst thing was that you had to live in Rick's house, under the same roof as Carl, who made no secret of how much he despised you. He let you know and feel that every day. "It's okay Carl, I hate you too," you spat back at him for that reason as he approached now.

"Not as much as I hate you," Carl countered, sounding almost bored, which upset you even more. You'd retreated behind the horse stables with your book, where you'd been sitting peacefully in the grass reading until this menace called Carl had decided to bother you. Now he was standing right in front of you, his shadow falling on you, and as always, he was wearing that stupid hat.

"I can live with it if someone who dresses up as a cowboy, has just one eye and needs a haircut hates me," you retorted pointedly. "By the way, you're not half as badass as you think you are, Carl." Demonstratively, you turned your eyes back to your book, ignoring him. Of course, a Carl Grimes couldn't take that. He snatched the book from you and tossed it away. "Hey!" you shouted at him outrageously. "Fuck off and leave me alone!" You had stood up, and now you were facing each other, glaring angrily at one another.

"You have no rights to anything here," Carl claimed aggressively.

"Oh no?" you scoffed, "Your dad thinks otherwise."

"Yeah, because my dad's not a fucking psycho like yours," Carl retorted in a snarky manner.

"My dad should have killed you when he had the chance," you hissed. "You sure felt great when you broke into the Sanctuary and shot around. Oh, wow, Badass Carl is kicking some butts," you teased him maliciously. He stared angrily at you with narrowed eye. "But I guess that was a non starter, wasn't it? My dad dragged your little ass back to Alexandria and fed you spaghetti. As if you were a three-year-old“, you mocked him.

"At least I didn't get captured," he growled.

"Oh, yeah? As I recall, my dad gave you back voluntarily. Why would we want to keep an idiot like you? You're worthless. A real plague, an inconvenience, that's what you are, Carl."

You orbited each other slowly, like two wolves, between you were only a few inches of distance. You fixated on each other with hatred. Carl was literally vibrating with rage, you could almost smell his anger. Confused, you realized that a certain excitement had taken control of you. Carl's aggressive aura triggered something in you. Carl seemed to feel the same way, because he brought his face close to yours, and without any warning, he kissed you roughly and forced his tongue into your mouth. You freed yourself. "What are you doing?" you hissed, scratching him across the cheek.

He didn't blink an eye, just licked his lips and approached you again. "You will not scratch me again, Y/N," he said in a hoarse voice. "Unless it's with pleasure while I'm fucking you."

"Excuse me?" you shrieked, "What kind of planet do you live on?" Again you looked at each other. You were both quivering all over, the air between you felt like it was electrified. The sexual tension was palpable.

Carl grabbed your wrist. "You want it too," he whispered provocatively. "I bet your pussy's dripping already," he said contemptuously, pressing himself against you. You could feel his arousal, and yes, damn it, he was right - you lusted after him even though you hated him. So you returned his stormy, aggressive kisses, and you enjoyed his rough hands on your bare skin as he rudely removed your shirt and bra.

"I hate you," you hissed excitedly as he caressed your nipples. The moisture between your legs increased. You peered toward the corner of the building. "Someone could show up here at any moment," you said, "We should go somewhere else."

"I don't care," Carl said dismissively. "We'll do it right here in the grass." Without further ado, he pushed you down to the ground, lay on top of you, and rubbed against you.

"Ouch," you complained, "you're hurting me, Carl." The buckle of his belt was aching on your hip.

"Shut up," Carl commanded carelessly, but at the same time loosened his belt and pulled down his jeans and boxers, shamelessly exposing his cock. It was of fair size and already totally erect.

The sight made you suck in an excited breath, but all you said was, "Wow. He's not bigger than that?"

Carl snorted angrily, pressing you to the grass, shoving your skirt up and your panties down before pushing himself between your legs. "Like you don't want him," he argued. "You're so horny for me, look how soaking wet you are. Little whore." He played with your entrance and clit with his tip, but didn't penetrate you, instead watching your face with a gleeful grin as you began to whimper softly. A new flood of moisture was welcoming him.

"I can also pleasure myself if you don't know where to put your dick in, Carl," you said pejoratively. "I expected nothing else from you."

With a single, hard thrust, he penetrated you, making you gasp - half in pain, half in lust. For a moment he paused, and you stared at each other again, full of aversion. Your hearts were pounding heavily.

"What are you waiting for? Rail me," you then commanded. Carl closed his eyes and began with hard, ruthless thrusts; he wasn't being sensitive or tender, but you didn't want him to be, you wanted him hard and merciless, and you hated him fiercely, with every fiber of your body. You inflicted some deep scratches on his back, whereupon he angrily grabbed your wrists and held them above your head while he pounded in you even harder.

It was thrilling beyond description. "Harder," you gasped, "harder still. Faster." Carl moaned out loud, you were both glistening with sweat, and you felt a powerful orgasm starting to build. You arched your back, squirming under Carl's thrusts and whimpering with desire, when he suddenly stopped.

"You will not cum now," he said breathlessly. "I won't allow it."

"I hate you, Carl Grimes," you repeated, biting him in his left shoulder, whereupon he gave you a sharp slap in the face.

"Bite me again like the rabid dog you are, and you'll regret it," he threatened, his lips very close to your right ear before resuming his thrusts into you. "I'm going to cum now, so you may too," he announced a few seconds later.

"Pull out before you cum", you demanded, but he pinned you to the ground and just continued thrusting, unimpressed, faster and harder.

"Forget it," Carl whispered horny and licked your neck. He obviously hadn't shaved that morning, and it was irritating your skin. "I'm going to breed you. When your dad gets you back, you'll be pregnant by me. How are you going to explain that to him? It'll be fun," he panted before he started moaning loudly again, thrusting even harder into you and blowing his whole load deep inside you. You cum so hard you thought you were going to explode. The two of you lay together for a moment, breathless, before Carl stood up, pulled his pants back up, and tossed your clothes to you. "You'd best get dressed again," he said bitingly. "Not like anyone's going to show up and realize what a little whore you are after all."

"Screw you, Carl," you replied lazily.

He gave you a dirty smirk. "Okay. Tomorrow, same time, same place?"

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes imagines

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timidpumpkin · 11 months

Text

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 4: Retribution

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: While you're left feeling hopelessly confused, it's clear to Steve and Bucky that you have a lot to learn about being their good little girl.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Forced age regression, DDLG themes, Female reader, Manipulation, Violence against reader, Being tied up, Hints to sexual themes, This one's dark folks, Mean Steve and Bucky, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

As always, lemme know if I missed any!!

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has supported me since I posted Part 1 many many months ago. I love you all and appreciate your support and kind words more than I can express. I'm super nervous to post this one so i'm really hoping everyone likes it. ^.^

Tagging: @ppatricia34me @canyonmooncreations @haleyhunwritess

(lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

P.S. Please feel free to comment/ask questions as they are a million times appreciated as I ALWAYS love to read you guy's thoughts!

(pictures are not my own)

Warm.

The cozy temperature surrounding you beckons you to sink further into its comfortable drowsy feeling. It feels nice–good. It’s comfortable as you pull at the blanket wrapped around you to cover the cold tip of your nose.

When you do though, adjusting as you move, adrenaline rushes through you.

All sense of tranquility leaps out of your body to be replaced by standing hairs and cold blood as you realize you’re not napping in your bed.

No–you’re napping on your capture’s lap.

Hazy memories from just a bit ago replay in your mind. The picture they paint is fogged up by an overcast of intense emotion.

Worry. Fear. Shock.

The panic you felt is now an almost disembodied ghost, content with hiding in the closet as it knows you can’t handle its presence anymore.

Not right now.

It would be too much. Your body and mind having already fought till every single cell within you is doused with exhaustion.

The wispy wave of relief you felt–feel–now molds into another feeling. It rips the comfort your body so desperately clings to at this moment of peril and unkindly reminds you that you shouldn’t have let your guard down.

But you did.

You–as you see it–involuntarily allowed the very person, no, the very people who have snatched you, took you from your, albeit, unexcitingly ordinary–but otherwise stable–life, to soothe the very predicament they have forced you in.

As you recall their hushed voices anchoring you, steady hands smoothing your trembling ones, and sweet comfort that you somehow found in their pacifying of you, the one emotion you painfully feel now is…embarrassment. It aligns with disgrace you feel within yourself for giving into…this.

You stiffen, body frozen in place as you become acutely aware of your situation again. Both the larger reality of being held hostage, and the other–ever so slightly smaller issue–that currently places your head nestled right in your captor’s lap. Bucky’s lap.

This is what you found so comforting in your sleep state?

Head wedged exactly between his legs, resting heavily against his lower half. Your hands curled up. You stare at them. They lay right in front of your view. Almost too close to your vision where you watch them resting, palms nestled down between his thighs.

But it’s not just your position. It’s his too. One of his arms is resting against you, draped over your side, his hand sprawled just at your navel, adding to the welcoming warmth you felt upon waking up. The other, languidly stroking your head with his thumb.

It’s an intimate position–close–in more ways than one. It’s not one you should be in, it’s not one you’re in voluntarily–despite what your last memories torturously remind you.

“You get enough sleep there, princess?” Bucky’s voice calls. You haven’t spoken a word but he must be able to tell you’re awake. Whether it’s from how your muscles have tensed, or the way you’ve been holding your breath since, is unknown to you.

You can’t see him. Your eyes are too intensely focused on how your hands rest with faux intimacy at his thighs and the realization of how long you’ve been in this position makes your lungs feel as if they don’t work anymore.

“You really scared Dada you know,” he moves his hand from your navel to caress your arm as he lends forward a bit to get a better view of your face. Still, frozen in place, you don't meet his gaze. Your self-preservation response only knows how to freeze now as you don’t move, but keep looking forward, completely unsure of how to tackle the situation you’re in.

Waves of memory come back to you. It’s blurry as you remember how scared you were. You remember how Steve calmed you. How his voice led you to placidity. How could that be? It’s what led you to the position you're in now.

Vulnerable. Again. And yet, you let it happen.

But you didn’t, no–you couldn’t–you don't remember exactly with anxiety fogging up your memory.

You knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t give in.

“Not going to ignore Daddy now, are you?” Bucky questions, taking his hand to your chin and facing it upwards so you’re looking up to him. Somehow, it’s still shocking how large he looks. You feel as though you've somehow been shrunk down a third of your size when looking at him. His hand is mostly just ghosting your face, guiding it up as he looms over you, one cheek smooshed against his navel now as his hand remains on the other.

“Hmm?” he questions, his pointer finger tapping methodically on your cheek, prompting you to answer. “Don’t tell me you forgot your manners already now, doll.”

“I-I wanna go home,” You try to sit up, not exactly sure why you said that, as recent events have told you already it’s not what he wants to hear. But you’re just not sure about anything at the moment. He looks at you with a displeased look, face dropping into an unkind frown.

His hold on you tightens; his forearm presses down on your chest lightly, silently reminding you that trying to move would be a bad idea. You don’t fight it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to succeed in getting up even if your life depended on it.

“You are home.” he declares curtly, before swiftly picking you up, dizzying you as he turns you around. You feel as though you’ve barely blinked before you’re in the new position. Your back is to his stomach as he situates you on his lap. His right arm wraps snugly around your waist, firmly securing you against his body. His left hand reaches in front and clasps around your cheeks, the cool metal instantly raising goosebumps on your once warm face as he slowly tilts your head back and forth for you, forcing you to look around the room.

“You see all this?” he lilts with a scolding undertone. “This is your home. All of it.” he pauses before–somehow–squeezing you closer to him. He brings his head to the side of your ear. His chest flush against your back, engulfing your body, and encapsulating your very being with how he maintains his grip on your face. His breath dances lightly against your ear as he speaks, adding to the chilling feeling overtaking your insides.

“Now what would you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little baby?” He speaks in a low, hushed tone. Not a sweet one–like the hushed subdued one Steve used on you just hours ago–No, Bucky’s tone is polar to that. It’s mocking, and sardonic as you can almost feel the smirk gracing his face without even looking at him. It’s as if he’s asking the most rhetorical question known to man. “Hmm?”

You feel your own breathing pick up. It becomes evident with how every millimeter your chest moves, your lungs have to fight against the pressure of Bucky’s heavy arms around you. Your mind is blank as fright starts to fill it instead. How were you supposed to answer that?

When you take too long to respond, Bucky promptly pinches at your side and simultaneously squeezes your cheeks harder, causing a retaliatory yelp out of you.

“Ah! I-I don’t know!” you squirm around at the pain that certainly doesn’t help you think.

He promptly covers your mouth with a shush, his sizable metallic hand swallowing up your face as you squeak dully now into his solid palm.

“No yelling now, doll.” He turns your face towards him so he can look at you as he speaks. He glances quickly at the closed bedroom door before looking back at you. “Answer Daddy’s question.” He directs, “I know you’re a smart girl.” he grins at you, and though–in most contexts–that would sound like a compliment, his tone is decidedly condescending as he continues. “But I’ll repeat my question, just in case my silly little girl forgot.” he smiles snidely at you for a brief moment before continuing. “What do you call a house where two Daddies take care of their little girl?” He says the question more slowly this time, eerily calm but just as patronizing as he goes.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he carefully removes his hand from your mouth. He doesn’t have to speak the words as his eyes alone tell you not to yell again. His fingers remain on your face, retaking their previous position of gripping your chin as he looks at you expectantly.

“...home…” you breathe meekly, voice almost cracking as you do, hoping that was the right answer.

“Good girl,” he roughly pats at your cheek with a slightly more authentic smile. “that’s exactly right.” he praises. You then hear some movement coming from the bedroom. Bucky glances that way before speaking to you again with a stern glare in his eye. “Now when Dada comes in here, you won't say any of those silly little thoughts, will you?” he asks presumptuously. You shake your head agreeably, and when Bucky’s head tilts with a clench of his jaw, you answer promptly out loud.

“Yes, Daddy” you quiver. He smiles at you, and as if on cue, Steve emerges from the door. There's a towel around his neck and he ruffles it around his hair before spotting you, his face lighting up when he does.

“Hi there angel,” he beams and leans down to you, instantly taking in the sight in front of him.

Your adorable frame sitting atop his partner's lap. You looked so perfect right there. As if you were the last puzzle piece missing his entire life, now fitting together so seamlessly that it just looks like a painting. A beautiful one. Steve isn’t sure how they went without you before. Your soft face still holds a frayed look. His poor girl. He was hoping a little bit of rest would ease your frazzled little mind.

“You feeling a bit better after your nap?” Steve asks with a loving tone as he carefully picks you up from Bucky’s lap. He situates you so that you are on his hip, one arm supporting your bottom with legs wrapped around his side as he guides your arms around his neck. You fit so nicely around him like this. He almost wishes he could stop time and freeze this moment forever. Being able to hold you like this, he’s never felt so whole, so complete. You feel tense in his arms, but he knows one day…that won’t be the case. You’ll lean fully in, wholly relying on and giving yourself to them both. He’s eager for every moment leading to it and each subsequent instant after.

Steve’s cold and wet hair tickles your arms. Being so close, you can’t help but notice the crisp comforting aroma that emits from his warm skin.

For some reason, you look to Bucky as if he holds the answer to Steve’s question. He just glares at you with a slight scowl that dares you to misbehave before standing up after too long of silence on your part.

“She’s still feeling a bit confused.” Bucky caresses you, palm enveloping the side of your face. “Huh, doll?”

“Awh…” Steve joins in on stroking your face by soothing the back of your head. “well that’s okay angel. Babies get confused so easily.” he says with that underlying patronizing but sweet tone he uses. “Why don’t you let Dada check you, huh?” he asks while looking you up and down. You then feel all blood draining from your face as your eyes go wide, having no idea what he means by that.

You look between him and Bucky frantically as Steve gently grabs one of your hands from behind his neck. You instinctively try pulling away but his grip tightens before you’re able to.

“Now now, don’t be scared,” Steve assures sweetly, a stark contrast to the death grip on your hand. “Dada just needs to look at those pesky little marks we had to leave on you last night,” he explains while unraveling you from him and setting you back down on the couch where he kneels in front of you. Your body trembles in anticipation–for what exactly, doesn’t matter.

You can’t control it as he diligently peels your socks off and rolls your leggings up to look underneath. He takes his time tracing the deformed marks with his fingertips, lifting up your ankles as he goes before making his way to your arms. He tugs on them gently in front of you and repeats his previous examination as if he’s mapping out every little laceration. “You don’t want any more of these…do you, babygirl?” Steve lilts, an ever so slightly threatening tone lacing his otherwise calm voice as he presses his fingers down, digging just harshly enough into where a bruise must be forming and causing you to jolt at the pain.

“Ah!-n-no!” you yelp pitifully quick at the discomfort.

“No…what?” Steve prods with false grace before pressing harder into your skin.

“N-no Dada!…ah!...please.” you shakily breathe the last word with a plea, pathetically pulling on your arms that don’t move an inch under his hold.

“Good girl,” he praises with a mischievous smile, and unclenches his painful grip, but doesn’t let go completely, instead, keeping a firm hold on you.

He steadily lifts your wrists up…to his lips. They ghost your skin as he glints at you with a soft smirk before placing slow…slow kisses along the marked-up lines.

Warm lips meet the welts that are painted all across and up your arms from where you were bound–corporal reminders of what disobeying meant–he trails each one of them, dragging his lips and dousing each inch of burning skin with tender kisses, his grip remaining its powerful hold so you remain immobile.

When he makes his way to your upper arm, you physically resist from full-on screaming. A quick glance to Bucky with your sorrowful eyes reveals no mercy from him. He just glares at you, a deadpan look on his face but a teasing smirk in his eyes that dares you to make a noise.

Steve lifts his head up to face you after planting his last kiss on your upper arm, just a hair's breadth from your face. Your head has already pushed itself back as far as it’ll go as the rest of your body is ensnared by his that hovers atop yours. Thick air surrounds you as your trembles turn to full-on shaking, watching him as his eyes don’t even meet yours. His blown pupils are intensively fixated on your lips now.

They look so soft.

Time itself seems frozen, all except a slow-motion icy droplet that falls from the tips of his hair. It lands atop soft cotton, dampening the fabric on your chest that ripples chills throughout you. He follows it, dark eyes lowering to where sensitive skin is hidden by the dainty onesie Bucky dressed you in earlier. You feel heat taking over the arctic sensation within you as he looks at your body with what you can only prescribe as desire–want.

But to your–very minuscule–relief he looks back up to your eyes, and gives you a quick smile, before leaning back on his knees again in front of you with a satisfied smile adorning his face.

“Might take a while for those to heal up,” he remarks, “but don’t worry, Daddy and I will give them lots of kisses to help them heal.” he smiles at you.

“What do you say, doll?” Bucky speaks up, crossing his arms.

A confused and worried look that causes your eyebrows to furrow comes over your face, unsure of what he wants when you’ve barely gotten your heart to stop pounding from the previous predicament.

Bucky decides–for now–he’ll key you in. Mostly because he doesn’t like seeing his Stevie all upset when you don’t do as you were told.

He mouths a “thank you” with a cock of his head motioning towards Steve below him.

“Th-thank you…D-dada” you squeak, voice uncontrollably shaky.

“Oh, such a good girl. My good little girl,” Steve beams at you before standing up. “Oh…poor thing,” he remarks while looking down at your trembling form. “You must be freezing,” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Dada will go get you a sweater. Stay right here,” he instructs before trailing off.

When he comes back, there's more than just an extra garment in his hand.

“Now later you can play upstairs all you want, but right now,” he speaks while setting down a few colorful-looking books and a box of crayons on the coffee table. “Daddy and I need to watch you and make sure you stay safe,” He then motions for you to move your arms up so he can put the sweatshirt he brought for you on. He carefully moves your arms and head through the holes and then leads you to the coffee table. “You can color as long as you like, angel, just make sure to tell us if you need anything, like water…or juice, okay?”

You nod your head complacently at him while he holds your hand looking down at you.

“Okay-I mean-I-yes…Dada” you fumble before kneeling down on the carpet yourself in front of the variety of coloring books.

You don’t want to color. But–genuinely–what choice do you have? You could protest, but it wouldn’t lead anywhere beneficial.

You scan the playful books in front of you, trying to find some solace in the fact that maybe focusing on this would at least mean less nerve-wracking interactions with…them.

It shouldn't matter–which picture you settle on–with your brain still rattled from before, only you can’t help but feel choosy about the drawing you pick. You flip through the books, dog-earing the ones that pique your interest before settling on a foresty scene that depicts two large sleeping wolves and a little rabbit nestled right in the middle.

For some perplexing reason, the crayon box decides it doesn’t want to be opened by your frail fingers. Steve quickly notices your frustrated struggle with it and instructs you to hand it to him so he can open it for you. You groan at the box and mutter something about how you ‘got it.’

You don’t see his eye squint and eyebrow raise as he watches you fumble with it for a moment longer, but you do feel him taking the box from your hands.

“I don’t want you hurting those precious little fingers of yours now,” He smoothly opens the box and hands it back to you with a pet to your head.

At some point, Bucky notices your tired posture and offers you a pillow to sit on before moving the coffee table closer to the couch so you can rest your back on the cushiony sofa. He moves it effortlessly as if the table wouldn’t break your back if you tried to move it.

You mumble an assenting “thank you daddy” to which Bucky responds. “You’re welcome, sweet girl” with a wink and you withhold from sticking your tongue out at him.

Either one or both of them remain in the room with you for the rest of the evening, checking on you every so often. You attempt to keep your attention on remaining within the lines when you color, but you can’t help the way your unnerved hands still shake, causing you–to your annoyance–to occasionally strike outside the lines.

By the time the sun has long set, and the only thing illuminating the paper in front of you is warm artificial light, you find yourself yawning with your head sideways on the table as you color. Whiffs of savory smells dance through your nose as Bucky has been in the kitchen for the last little bit preparing dinner.

“Getting sleepy babygirl?” Steve asks, peering down at you and your drawings. You shrug your shoulders, unsure of which answer would allow you the most leniency.

“Oh, that one is just perfect,” he remarks while bending over and picking up the forest scene you colored first. It was hidden amongst other drawings that you had shuffled to the side. He holds it up and takes a good look at it. “You did such a good job,” he compliments. “I think this one deserves a place on the fridge” he boasts.

You turn your head back and watch in curiosity as he really does make his way to the kitchen and secures it with a little magnet. He stands back and smiles in satisfaction while you go back to coloring, feigning that you never even noticed the proud expression radiating off his body, and positively pretending that your insides didn’t go soft for a brief moment watching him.

Steve and Bucky chatter while setting the table. You try to tunnel in on their voices but you can’t exactly make out what they’re saying as they speak quite lowly to each other.

Steve makes his way to you and takes your hand to guide you to the table. He sets you in the seat furthest away from the door as they both sit rather closely to you–practically trapping you in. You poke at your otherwise appetizing plate as you have little desire to eat with your stomach still turned in tangled knots.

They both encourage you to eat throughout, but you only manage to get a few bites down. Neither of them look particularly happy with you and your full plate. Nevertheless, they stop pushing after a bit and share a knowing look that you can’t make out the meaning of.

You huff a quiet sigh of relief when they take your plate and start cleaning the kitchen, silently feeling as though you won this trivial round of control.

Bucky catches you from the corner of his eye as you take it upon yourself to get out of your chair. He tenses, preparing to snatch you before you can move until he realizes you’re only going to the living room, opposite of where the front door is. He decides to just watch you for a few moments as you go back to coloring with criss-crossed legs.

Innocent little thing. His naive little doll shading away, having not a clue in your pretty little head of how erroneous it was to make your own decisions like that. It really was much too soon for you to truly understand what consequences will come when trying to think for yourself. He can’t exactly blame you though. His poor little baby had to do it for so long before they found you. It’s probably why you’re benignly coloring away with not an idea in your head of what’s really in store for your life here. Such a sweet, sweet little girl they had. All to themselves. Forever now.

He observes how you ferociously analyze and juxtapose the colors before you, even testing them on other miscellaneous paper before choosing the right one for the job.

He already knows you better than you can even comprehend. He knows you’ve likely already thought you’ve gotten away with it.

“What do you think you’re doing little girl?” Bucky’s scolding voice startles you, causing you to jump a little in your spot. After just a second, he roughly yanks you up by your arm, spinning you around to face him as he holds you. “Did Daddy tell you you could leave the table? Hmm? Did Dada?” he fumes, the sudden escalation in action and tone making you want to just cry.

“I-I-” you fumble, squirming uncomfortably below him. “I thought-”

“Oh I don’t think you were thinking anything in that silly little head of yours,” he chastises while pinching one of your cheeks harshly with his free hand. “And did you really think you could get away with not eating?”

“Ah!-” you fight, struggling against him, confused and disoriented on why he’s suddenly being so harsh when you thought you were off the hook.

“Hey-hey, it’s okay,” you hear Steve speaking up behind him. “Let me talk to her Buck,” he says, allowing Bucky to let go of your arm and cheek. You tearfully rub at your hurt cheek while Steve kneels down to your level. “Sweet girl…remember yesterday when daddy gave you apple juice?” he asks, circling his hand behind your ear and gently cupping the cheek that Bucky previously inflicted harshly. You nod smally, glancing away around the room as you recall the unfond memory of being bottle-fed against your will. “Good, then you should know that little girls need their nutrients. And that means no skipping dinner,” he explains with a kind voice that makes you feel as if he's quite literally talking to a child.

“I-okay…Dada” you add, grateful for Steve at least being gracious enough as to not yell at and pinch you like Bucky just was.

“Good girl,” he smiles at you before telling you to sit tight on the couch while he goes to get your dinner. You sit there, a bit perplexed on how he planned on giving you a meal when you’re pretty sure you saw Bucky scrape the remnants of your food into the trashcan.

Steve returns with no plate in hand and sits a bit away from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion until you see it.

You watch in horror as he reveals a milky white bottle that he shakes in his hand while speaking to you.

“Come here,” he beckons, patting his spacious thigh. You grimace at the granule liquid that swirls around in the bottle, not unlike the one Bucky used on you yesterday. If you didn't know better–which you don’t–you’d say it quite literally looks like baby formula.

“Uhm…I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with a reason, any reason not to be literally bottle-fed like you were yesterday. “I’m-I’m really not hungry-my-my stomach hurts,” you reason clumsily, but truthfully as well since the only thing filling your stomach right now is queasiness. Most of it coming from your situation, but the grainy texture swirling around in the bottle certainly doesn’t help your appetite either. “And-and I can just eat the other stuff,” you add frantically while looking back to the kitchen and wringing your hands.

“Now this is going to help my sweet girl feel a lot better and sleep real tight,” Steve remarks, completely ignoring your words and requests.

“I-I said I'm not hungry.” you say a bit louder, but with a mild tone as to not sound too combative.

“And I said this will help you sleep,” he asserts while dabbing the tip of the bottle on his wrist. “Now come sit on Dada’s lap,” he demands while patting his thigh again. You shake your head while subtly scooting away from him.

“Mmm-mmm” you hum a no while sliding back even further. “Please, I don’t wan-”

“Did Dada ask what you wanted?” he cuts you off with a cock to his head at you. “No,” he shakes his head, answering his own question patronizingly. “I didn’t. You don’t get to decide what’s good for you. Only Daddy and I know that. Now I won’t ask again. Come here. Now.” he insists sternly. You debate quickly in your head, weighing out your limited options. When you still sit there not moving an inch, Steve sighs and reaches for you. He grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“No!” you say in response to the action. He’s not necessarily yanking or being particularly rough, but without thinking, you push back at him, your free hand overshooting and accidentally hitting his shoulder. Of course, it’s like you’ve hit a brick wall, the small action hurting your wrist much more than it likely hurt him at all. But something about it felt…cathartic. And something inside you just…snaps.

You had played nice all day, letting them hold you, touch you, kiss you. Hell–you even sat on the floor for hours and colored while wearing a onesie. And now he wanted to bottle feed you actual formula. You had to draw the line.

You couldn’t give in. The silent promise you made to yourself earlier rings in your head. You weren’t going to drink this stupid bottle.

Steve still has you in his grasp and is pulling you closer to him so that you can be in his lap. Only, you take this opportunity to fight. Hard.

With all the strength you have, you wrench yourself back. Steve quickly encapsulates both your hands, making you feel as though you’ll sooner break your own wrists before you ever successfully free yourself from his grip. You take it upon yourself to switch strategies, maneuvering yourself into a position where you just start kicking at him feverishly. It felt childish. It looked childish. But you didn’t care right now. You weren’t going to play along any longer.

You realize halfway through your nonsensical thrashing fit that Steve is likely just letting you play this out before he decides he’s had enough. He decisively stands up, dragging your combative form with him as he roughly swings you up to throw you over his shoulder. You still fight him, your flailing is joined with nonsensical shrieks as you lash out on him physically and verbally. Steve holds you down atop him firmly while hauling you upstairs. Before you realize it, you’re roughly tossed down into a mattress. The otherwise compliant spread hurts you on impact from the height you fall from. Your swirling vision from being upside down and lack of oxygen in your lungs from screaming leaves you disoriented until your dazed eyes focus on structured parallel bars.

Steve’s thrown you into the very crib he showed you just hours ago.

“That’s just for when you’re feeling extra little,”

You instantly try to stand up only for Steve to effortlessly push you back down, sending you to roughly bounce on your bottom. You clumsily try to regain your balance and breath while Steve reaches for something besides the crib. Before you know it, Steve’s grabbed both your hands and starts heatedly tying them together. Tightly. He ensnares your fingers together and weaves the rope around every inch of your digits up to the middle of your forearm, completely restraining the hands that fought him.

You try getting up again only to find it’s surprisingly hard to move with your hands bound in front of you.

He mutters to you something about ‘not moving’ while making his way to the end of the crib. He abrasively yanks both of your legs down to the edge of the caged mattress and begins tying those together too. You flail hopelessly, hurling unkind words at him while he secures your ankles to the bars, completely immobilizing the legs that were just unabashedly kicking at him.

When you finally catch a glimpse of Steve’s face, his expression is unforgiving. Furrowed eyebrows highlight his intense dark focus as veined arms secure you to the crib.

Steve straightens himself up and towers over you from beside the crib. He just watches you until you decide to give up on fighting, realizing you can’t free yourself from your binds. Your anger slowly turns to just pure sorrow, as you find yourself crying hot tears into your already burning face. You murmur pointless cries asking over and over again to just be let go…

“Angel…” Steve says softly, his features appearing less angered now, but still unhappy nonetheless. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he kneels down, leveling himself with you from outside your confines. He reaches through the bars and caresses your rope-covered hands. “If you do what Dada says, then I might go easy on your punishment,” he slides his hands up, open-palmed, slowly inching his way to your face. He lingers on your throat for a moment too long before laying his hand across your cheek. “But that’s only if you stop being a bad girl…is that what you want?” he asks patronizingly, with a cock to his head, faux sympathy lining his tone. “You want Dada to treat you like a bad girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, heavy tears pitifully falling as Steve watches you. He doesn’t catch them as he awaits your answer that doesn’t come.

He then tries to give you the bottle from before again but you only resist. Shaking your head and crying profusely while mumbling sorrowful nonsense.

Steve sighs, and hangs his head. He doesn’t enjoy seeing you like this. He wants to hear you laugh. The same laugh he heard over anything else the first night he found you. He wants to see you smile. The same way you beamed at him that night he helped you find your way back. He wants to draw you close when you fall asleep next to him. The same way he’s watched you fall asleep all by yourself for months. He wants to replace the teeny little thumb you always stick in your mouth when you think no one is watching with his. He knows you want this. He knows you need this.

But it’s obvious his poor girl just doesn’t understand that yet.

Steve knows babies have a hard time listening when throwing tantrums anyway...

For now, if you won’t listen, he’ll just have to show you.

“My sweet girl…” Steve grabs your face, turning it towards him. “You just won’t learn unless Dada shows you, huh?” he releases your face dismissively and stands up.

“If you want to act out…” he speaks while reaching across the crib above you,

“and think you’re a big girl…” he lifts something weighty that’s attached to the top of the crib,

“that’s fine,” parallel bars intrude your vision of Steve from above you,

“But this is what happens when you act like a bad girl.” Steve’s voice turns more ireful with every word he speaks, as he works his way around the crib, latching multiple locks together that you hadn't noticed before with increasingly aggressive force.

“You get treated like one. Bad girls get left all alone by themselves without Dada. If you really want Dada to let you go. Fine. You’ll stay right here until you understand what it means to listen.” he slams the last latch shut.

You barely have time to process his words while your wobbly vision interprets what’s happening above you. By the time you comprehend that there’s a top to this ‘crib’ that Steve has locked you in, he’s already left the room, truly isolating you.

Anguished sobs that were falling on deaf ears during Steve’s spiel to you now meet the equally deaf silence of the room itself.

The only sound that accompanies you now is your own cries, echoing back pitifully to you from the horizontal bars above…

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roxygen22 · 15 days

Note

Timothee gets overheated on the set of Dune and feels sick and reader who’s visiting him while they film in the desert takes care of him back at their rented apartment

C/W: hospital setting

Overheated

Thanks to the flexibility of your job to work literally from anywhere, you were able to accompany Timothée to Jordan when he was filming Dune 2. One day, you were strolling through the market while he was busy on set when you got a call from his assistant.

"Hello?"

"[Y/N], it's Lizz. He's alright, but..."

Your heart stopped. That was never a good start to a conversation.

"...we had to take Timothée to the hospital. He and Z were shooting a scene in the stillsuits, and he started fumbling over his lines. He got lightheaded and nearly fainted. He's hooked up to IV fluids and resting now."

"I- I'll be there as quick as I can. Can you stay with him until I get there? H-he hates hospitals," you stumbled over yourself due to rising panic.

"Of course."

Lizz let the staff know to expect you so they wouldn't stop you at the door. They quickly escorted you back to his bed. You pulled back the curtain, but her description did not adequately prepare you for what you saw.

Timothée's normally voluminous curls were plastered to his head by sweat. He was pale and shivering from the cold saline they were pumping into his bloodstream and the ice packs on his body. He opened his eyes as you touched his cold, clammy forehead. You could feel the grit from the sand on his skin.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Oh, Timmy," was all you could muster before you choked on tears. You brought his hand to your cheek and kissed his palm. You felt his thumb wipe a tear across your cheekbone.

"I'm alright, babe." He tried to reassure you.

"No, you're not." Your voice raised slightly as narrowed your eyes at him. "You are dehydrated. You are pushing yourself too hard. I kept telling you that your body would make you slow down if you didn't do so voluntarily."

"I know. B-"

"No buts. I am going to ask Lizz to clear your schedule for the rest of the week."

"They can't film without me," he argued weakly.

"Exactly! If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to film. Just think how many jobs will be lost if they lose their star. They cannot do this movie without you."

Timothée's eyes dropped, and he sighed heavily. "You're right."

"Damn right, I'm right," you said with a wink and a smirk. "I love you, Timothée. I just don't want to see you hurt like this again."

You took him straight to your shared apartment (a short-term lease) once he was discharged. He was still weak and shaky, so you supported his weight from the car up the stairs to the door. He practically collapsed on the bed, his lanky legs dangling from the edge. You took his shoes off and guided his legs under the covers.

Timothée fell asleep quickly, overextended just from the short journey. In the brief moments when he was awake, you encouraged him to sip on electrolyte mix. A few hours later, he attempted to get up. He was so weak that it didn't take much energy on your part to push him back down by the shoulder.

"I don't think so, mister. The doctor said you needed to rest."

"[Y/N], I don't think getting up to go to a different room counts as physical activity," he retorted. It was good to see he had the energy to argue.

"Whatever you need, I can get it for you."

Timothée smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And what if I need to go pee?"

You spluttered, then laughed, knowing he got you on that one. "Well, I would say that is a good sign and one of the few things you can get up for."

"Thanks. I can maintain at least a shred of my dignity. Do you know how embarrassing it was to nearly fall out on set?"

You tucked a loose curl behind his ear. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Timmy. They see how hard you work. The cast and crew care about you. Your phone has been blowing up ever since we got home. Z already sent over some of your favorite snacks."

"That was nice of her."

"They all want you to take the time you need to recover. Completely," you emphasized, "and not a moment sooner."

He let his head fall back on the pillow. "You were right that I needed to slow down. I went straight from Bones and All to Wonka to Dune. I promise, even though I may grumble about it, I will be a good patient until I am cleared to go back."

"Good. Besides, it'll be nice to sleep in, cuddle, and make some progress on our watch list," you replied.

Timothée squeezed your hand. "I'm glad you're here; otherwise, the downtime would be unbearable."

You pouted your lip at the sweetness. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. I love you."

"I love you, too. But, babe, I really do need to go pee." You both laughed as you helped him stand.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothée chalamet x you #timothee x you #Timothée x you #timothée x reader #timothee x reader #dune part 2 #dune2 #dune movie #dune #paul atreides #sick fic #sickfic #hurt/comfort #reader insert

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muddyorbsblr · 11 months

Text

a tale of ice baths and hot sauce

See my full list of works here!

Placement: the day after 'a sizing mishap'

Summary: An effort is made to find out who your mystery boyfriend is during the Elementals challenge when some members of the staff see some marks on your neck that weren't there before…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: mango mention (no really i did that here lol); bit of insecurity from Reader if you squint

"You think anyone would notice if I just pinched a chip from the bowl?" you joked while setting up the table for the Elementals-themed challenge that a handful of the Soccer Aid players were going to voluntarily subject themselves to with Joelah, the host for most if not all the promo videos for this event. You raised an eyebrow playfully at her when she approached the table with a giddy little skip in her step, practically twirling in her outfit of relaxed fit jeans and a diagonal cut asymmetrical crop top. "Please tell me where you go shopping I'm in desperate need of cuter clothes. I mean, 'raiding the boyfriend's closet chic' is cute and all but…I also drown in fabric whenever I do it."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Y/N, I think you're faring pretty damn fine if I do say so myself." She waved a hand at your current getup of a cropped loose olive green halter top and a black ruffle skort. "Players seem to enjoy it well enough," she mumbled with a lower tone, as if warning you that you were currently being ogled. "Oy! Eyes on the ball, you pervy lads!"

"Thanks," you told her with a smile, pulling your hair into a ribbon so that it wouldn't stick to your sweaty neck. "Now…do you wanna share with the class why you were skipping--"

"Bloody hell, Y/L/N, your neck!" she gasped, pointing at the right side of your neck and collarbone. "You didn't have that when I last saw you yesterday--Oh my lordy me, you hooked up with someone here! Is it one of the players? That social media star on the World team? One of the pros? Sam Claflin??"

"No on all fronts, Jo," you laughed off her questions. "My boyfriend's working the event, too. I was with him." Her jaw dropped to the ground with your revelation. "We're keeping things a bit…low key, you know?"

"Oh you and your secrets," she teased, still motioning toward your neck. "If that isn't a sign that screams 'Horny blokes step the fuck back', I haven't the faintest idea what is. Anyways, what were you asking earlier?"

"Ah, right. I was gonna ask why were you skipping on your way here like you were back in school and teacher just gave you a gold star?"

"Oh…Oh! Because I just got the players for the Elementals Fire and Ice challenge and Number 6 lit'rally up and volunteered to represent Team England." She made a motion fanning herself. "That godly bod dripping wet and clothes just clinging to him? Lordy me have mercy. And whoever put him in the teeniest jersey and shorts imaginable, I just wanna eurgh! Wanna grab 'em and thank 'em to the high heavens, y'know? Thank 'em for their service."

You are very welcome, you thought to yourself.

"Maybe if you leave an iced coffee on the table and go pspspsps they'll acknowledge your gratitude," you joked, once again pointing to the chips. "I'm taking a pinch. And trying out these sauces, I've been deadly curious since yesterday."

"You take the green one, I'll take one of the reds," she offered, already getting a large chip for herself and placing a few drops of the brighter red condiment. When you had placed a dollop of the green hot sauce onto your own chip, you clinked your pieces together before taking thing whole and bracing for the worst. "Fuck all that is hellish!" she mumbled around her piece, eyeing you incredulously while you just continued on chewing and letting the taste of the sauce linger for a moment or two. "How in the…"

You grabbed all the bottles and looked over the labels with a scrutinizing eye. "The green's deceptive. Makes you think you're getting the milder one but it's got the highest level of Scoville units. I feel sorry to whoever's gonna end up with that."

There was some motion from the corner of your eye, which you quickly realized were the camera crew and some other members of the staff carting around numerous 10 gallon bottles of water and 3 drums. And following just behind them were the six players slated to play this little trivia game. You gave them all a little wave and a courteous smile, making sure to hold eye contact with each of them, and saving Tom for last so you could allow yourself the indulgence of holding his gaze for a fraction of a moment longer, which he returned with a small wave and an obviously deliberate infinitesimal twitch of his two middle fingers.

"Goodness, Y/L/N," one of the staff members, Allen, bellowed. "What happened to--"

"My neck?" you finished for him. "Don't worry about it. My boyfriend thinks himself a vampire," you answered with a casual shrug, earning you a round of chuckles from the rest of the crew and the players. You motioned toward the water drums. "Should we get that all set up then?"

"Oh. Yeah, for sure." He waved his arm toward the drums as well. "Have at it."

"I could help you," Scarlette chimed in, already taking the end of the drum in front of you and jutting her chin in the direction of your neck. "I didn't see that on you yesterday when I picked up my uniform. I take it your boyfriend's somewhere in the building then?" She capped off her question with a cheeky wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Yes, and I'm not saying a single word on where and who he is. But I won't deny it if anyone guesses correctly. The only catch though…you only get two guesses each," you offered, looking at both her and Joelah.

"Claflin," Scarlette spoke immediately, causing the other one to make a motion as if to stop her but all too late.

"Aaaaand that's one wrong guess. Also makes you the second person in this place to for some reason think that I'm bumping uglies with Finnick Odair."

"I could've told you it's not Mister Clock App, or Claflin…or any of the pros," Joelah grumbled out. "We're down to three."

You two set up the last of the water drums, making sure that they were equidistant from one another, and after thanking Scarlette you moved toward the massive water bottles to start filling them up. "Let me help you," Tom spoke up, already placing his hands under the bottle, brushing his hands across yours before taking most of the weight of the bottle and leading you both toward the drum. "You reckon they'll guess me, darling?" he asked under his breath.

"Absolutely not," you answered, keeping your voice down. "I don't think they'll even consider it a possibility that I can pull you."

"Personally I think you pull me just fine," he shot back, smirking when you had to suppress a chortle from his words. "More than fine, actually."

"Menace," you hissed, trying to covertly take deep breaths while the two of you walked to the next bottle and repeated the process.

"Only for you, sweetheart."

"Okay you must be built all kinds of different, because I don't think I coulda kept my wits about me being that close him with the guns on full display, and in close proximity to…what was it the internet called it again?"

"The mango?" you prompted Joelah, causing you both to break out in stifled giggles while waiting for the camera crew to finish setting up.

"Yes! And I saw that little hand brushing, too I mean—how were you not absolutely swooning the second he walked up to the bottle? Hell, how did you even function?"

I have been under those guns on full display and touched more than just his hand, you thought to yourself, holding your words back and instead gave her a little shrug. "Worked with him before. You get used to it," you bluffed. "Besides, I've got someone, and I'm really happy and stupid in love. So there's that, too."

"We need a hand here!" Scarlette called out in your general direction, her and Bugzy already on their feet but pointing at Tom who for some unknown reason, currently had both feet sticking up and out of the drum and putting him in a position that made it exceedingly more difficult for him to get up and out of the drum.

"How in the actual fuck did he even get like that?" you started thinking aloud. A strangled noise slipped from your mouth the second his head dipped below the water and his hands lost their grip on the edge of the drum.

You knew that he would be able to find his way back up, but it didn't stop the way your heart caught in your throat. The way that your legs were involuntarily twitching as if taking on a mind of their own and urging you to make your way to him.

If he hadn't stuck his head back out from under the water just a few seconds later, you would have been more than ready to run to him and help him to his feet, check on him the way he often checked on you when he would see you short of breath on set. You wouldn't have given a damn about the cameras capturing your every move.

But instead you were frozen in place, watching as he ascended and took a big heaving breath, shaking the water from his hair and his eyes before finding your gaze. You were suddenly acutely aware of nearly every minute movement of your body trying to fight back every reaction you had to the excessively obvious bedroom eyes he was giving you, resorting to subtly digging what little fingernail you had into the palm of your hand to at least focus on something else until he looked away.

You moved the moment you clocked the excitement on the faces of Joelah as well as some female members of the staff, already undoubtedly about to speak up that they would gladly help him out. "Can we cut?" you hollered toward the cameraman, who responded to you with a simple thumbs up, pressing a button on his equipment that stopped recording. You quickly whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of Tom in the precarious position before you reached him.

"Really, Y/N?" he huffed, feigning exasperation but you knew that tone better than any other person around you at the moment. He was amused. And you would be in trouble later tonight. You even began to doubt if you could completely walk properly in the morning or if you would walk into the briefing area with a more than slight penguin waddle.

"Had to," you quipped, shrugging your shoulders and scrunching your nose at him reflexively before placing your phone back in your pocket and holding your arms out toward him so he could brace himself. "Tuck your feet back into the drum."

You heard the slightest grumble from him before he wrapped a hand around one of your arms, did exactly as you said, and then wrapped his other arm across your shoulders while he tried to find his footing in the undoubtedly slippery interior of the water drum. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered under his breath, pulling you closer as you gripped the towel that was handed over to you and making quick work to spread it out and use it as a cover from prying eyes and wild cameras once his feet were firmly planted on the ground again.

The heavily curious gazes of everyone around you gave you enough pause to not wrap the towel around his waist, realization quickly dawning on you that the gesture would definitely be seen as a show of intimacy. You avoided his gaze as he took the towel from you, opting instead to lead the way to behind the backdrop, picking up his cleats and bag on the way.

You felt the irrational bristling of your skin as the sound of women giggling and commending your boyfriend on his form throughout the drills hit your ears, your hands finding it difficult to grasp the small laundry pouch you'd packed in his bag and a fresh pair of socks from the near violent shaking. When a familiar ridiculously large hand appeared in front of your face, you looked up abruptly to find Tom standing above you, the smile on his face growing brighter when you placed your hand in his and stood up.

"You're shaking," he murmured, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Come here."

He caught you off guard when he tugged you into his arms, a small yelp escaping you before you could stop yourself that had you hoping that nobody on the other side of the backdrop heard it. "What're you doing?" you questioned him in hushed tones, holding back your giggles as he pressed the fluffy sleeves of the bathrobe that he wore to your face and neck. Your hands wrapped around his wrist when he started patting at the exposed skin of your chest. "Sweetie!" You couldn't hold back your giggles when he used his free arm to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

"You're wet," he said simply, continuing to pat at your dampened skin.

"Well I'm your girlfriend, it kinda comes with the territory," you quipped, letting out another barely muted squeal when he pulled his hand from your grasp and grabbed the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. Almost immediately you melted in his arms, both of you smiling against each other's lips as you wrapped your arms around him. "Private--"

"This is private, goddess," he cut you off, capturing your lips in another soft kiss. "Public would be bringing you to the center of the field and marking you again with everyone as witness so that there isn't a shadow of doubt in anyone's mind that you're mine."

The sound of the camera crew calling out for him snapped you two out of your moment. "Give me a minute," he hollered out, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before loosening his hold on you and letting you step back from him. You offered him your hand to hold himself steady while he changed out the soiled socks from the challenge. "Did you take a look at the hot sauces on the table?"

"Of course I did," you quipped, scrunching your nose at him when his eyes flickered to yours. "Don't take the green one, it's a trap."

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, eyeing you with a smirk when he stood upright and you took his shin guards from him. "And what exactly are you doing, darling?"

You answered him with a playful grin. "Oh I'm sorry. Would you like to try putting these on through two layers of fluff?" He answered you with a minute shake of his head. "No? Well alright then." You proceeded to crouch down and place the shin guards under the knee-high socks, only stopping when you heard a shutter from above your head and looking up at him from your position with a bemused smirk. "Really, Tom?"

"It needed to be done," he said with a chuckle, waving your phone tauntingly in his hand. "After all, you do look so tempting from this angle. Let me just send this to my phone really quick."

You made a point to audibly snap the garter of his sock against his skin, making him jump the slightest bit and squint his eyes at you as you rose to stand upright again. "Give it back," you cooed, holding your hand out. Instead of doing just that, he grabbed hold of your hand and closed the distance between you, placing your arm over his shoulder as his hands roamed down your back before settling in your back pockets.

Before you could say a single word, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss and you could feel the weight of your phone back in your pocket. As well as his hand grabbing a handful of your ass before he pulled away. "I love you," he whispered, briefly brushing the tip of his nose across yours before stepping backwards, back to the set so that the World Team could have their turn at the ice baths.

"I love you, too." The sound of the crew calling out your name this time and telling you to come help in setting up the next batch was enough to wipe the smitten grin off your face and send you running in the other direction.

A/N: Starting off my 5-day weekend strong with a new Soccer Aid piece out! I have one more that I'm gonna focus on before I give Soccer Aid Hiddles a break from the page for a while to focus on…'relinquish the crown: plans & protestations'! 😳👀 It's been too long since I've written those two blorbos and I miss them so they're next 💖

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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reesespeanutbutterfuck · 1 month

Text

imperfectionist (vinny hong x jo!reader)

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 7

part 6 | part 8

part warnings: fem!reader, jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), second person's pov (you, you're, your), wb main story SPOILERS

—

Why was he shocked? He already saw you in your school uniform when he took you to the hospital.

“Sorry, Principal. I can come back later if you're busy–”

“It's alright, [Y/N]. I'll have you as a witness for your friends' proposal.” He motioned you to stand beside him. Albeit confused, you obliged while still carrying the papers and brown envelopes.

Friends, huh.

Not so sure about that.

You casually eyed them one by one. Even noticing Minu's stupid-looking, over-gelled hair. But averting your gaze once you felt a certain red-hair's stare. He stared you down and you can feel his fixation on you, yet you were determined to keep your nonchalance affront.

You surely weren't needed here, so why did the Principal make you stay? While their attention were elsewhere—well, except for Vinny, who still has his two-toned eyes following you, you were finally about to escape the Principal but when you tried to sneakily walk past them, Shelly took your arm and quietly tucked you beside her while listening to her Granddad. Yes, the Principal. Shelly's Granddad. One person. The principal is Shelly's granddad.

After what seems to be a proposal to skip school to compete in the tournament, the Principal guided you out of the office, letting you go before classes started. You thought it was over, not until Mr. Nam, who accompanied you outside, called your name from the door, so you expectantly waited for what he had to say,

“The red boy isn't from here, would you mind escorting him off the campus? You’re Vice of the student body after all.”

Agh. What is he, a preschooler?

You glanced at Vinny, who just came out of the door, for a split second. “No. Not at all.”

Vinny stopped in his tracks when you faced him, now he was blankly staring at you.

“Follow me.” you composed yourself and led him to the exit.

You can hear students’ chatters and whispers but you chose to voluntarily not pay them any mind. You were watching his reflection on the window panes of the classrooms from your peripheral vision, so you didn’t have to look behind to see if he was following you. You remained civil, and as much as Vinny hates to admit, he’s annoyed by the way you’re pretending you don’t know him after everything you said and did in your past encounters. Sure he hated talking, like he always did, it’s not like he wants you to converse with him.

But somehow in this third encounter, why did he perhaps expect… more?

You can’t talk to him, yet. You shouldn’t. At least not in front of your schoolmates and especially not in front of Jay and the others. Acting like you know him will only spark more rumors and suspicions. Once again you can feel his stares right behind you as you wordlessly guided him towards the gate. What he didn't know is that your mouth was itching to open and talk, but not now. At least not while the guards were looking at you, they know your mother. you’ll be dead.

When you reached the gate you stopped just before the gate and asked if he needed more directions to go where he’s headed to, but he insisted he knew where he’s going. You were about to leave but his hand reached forward. Handing you something. You wondered what it was for a moment until you saw the object. The tomato charm you gave him.

You eyed the charm on his palm and looked back to his face. “What do you want me to do with that?”

“You might want it back.”

“Who do you take me for? Give and take?” You frowned. “Bring my glasses next time.” and then you turned your back on him.

Once again, Vinny’s brows slightly furrowed in annoyance. But then he finally confirms that you do remember him. You just act like you don’t.

What the hell just happened? What do you mean? Since he met you, all you ever did was to make his head hurt. He only watched you from afar for less than a second, before he turned his back shortly.

Not worth it, he thinks.

You parted ways like strangers.

___

Like you already said before, you and Jay don't always go home together after class, it's always taken you to go separate ways after school as a norm unless you both agree you'd go home together beforehand. After the subject bedel announced your professor’s absence, his whole class period became your class vacant.

You loomed over Jay's desk. “Got any snacks?”

He slid a wasabi lollipop while not even panning to you, eyes glued to his textbook, choosing to spend his vacant time studying.

“Why aren’t you studying?”

“I’ve already read everything last night. I'm getting dizzy seeing words on a textbook.” You reached for the lollipop and opened the wrapper before putting it in your mouth and slumpily sitting beside him.

Some of your classmates were a little taken aback because you barely sit beside Jay in classrooms. That was because you were having enough of seeing Jay’s face. From your house, to the student council hq’s, to the classroom, you’d see him. You were getting tired of seeing him everywhere. But it’s different now that you don’t see him at home because you don’t live there anymore, and you don’t see him at the council hq’s too now because he isn’t the President anymore.

“Got yelled at by mom and dad last night?” You asked him.

“...Yeah.”

“Sucks.”

“Has your flu gone down?” Right. You didn't tell anyone the truth. The only ones who knew were Suki and well… Vinny.

"Yeah. I did a lot to feel better sooner. Anyway, thanks for lending me your glasses.” you moved his eyeglasses that you borrowed up and down over your nose bridge.

The eyeglasses you were currently wearing were Jay's. They were his backup ones. Only the morning after the stabbing incident you realized you've lost your glasses. And then you remembered the nurses gave Vinny your belongings before your back was stitched up. But you promised to give Jay's glasses back after you retrieve yours from Vinny.

“How's your new member holding up? Any problems?” You shift your body to face him while biting your lollipop's stick.

Jay eyed you. “What? Oh, you mean Vinny? He's… fine. I guess.”

Must be still warming up. He’ll get used to it. You glanced out the window. The sky was already turning orange. Dom’s loud mouth echoes all the way from the back of the classroom blathering something about Hummingbird’s next cycling practice made you remember something.

“Say, can I come watch your next practice? There's also Yuna and Mia, right? Would another bystander distract you?”

“Yeah. You can come. No rules were made saying non-members shouldn't be in practices.” Jay replied. You were thankful at how he didn’t ask why you wanted to come. The real reason was to retrieve your glasses from Vinny.

Shelly called your name while closing Jay’s table. You were getting used to her ditzyness. “My sister-in-law, are you close with Vinny? He looks cool! Is his hair color natural?”

Why does everyone here think we’re close?

“Don't know. Don't care.” you faced Jay's desk to steal all his wasabi lollipops while he's not looking. You stood up with a jacket filled with lollipops and let Shelly take the seat beside Jay.

___

You passed your fake medical certificate to your professor for your absence. You were waiting for your excuse letter to be signed before going home, when the new phone you bought beeped.

Unknown Contact: hiya, is this [Y/N]? ;)

[Y/N]: who's this?

Unknown Contact: vinny ;)

You gaped your mouth. Vinny? That Vinny?

[Y/N]: wrong number

After sending a lot of keyboard smashes, his messages suddenly halted. You thought he was done until you received another.

Unknown Contact: that was not me fuck

Unknown Contact: i swear that wasn’t me

You chose not to point it out in your reply.

[Y/N]: my glasses

After reminding him, the professor handed you back the excuse letter. You thanked him and exited the room. You wonder where Vinny got your number, especially with the fact that after losing your phone when you were stabbed, you changed phones and SIM cards.

You smirked triumphantly for a split-second and put your phone inside your pocket.

***

sorry for the slow ud's !!!! academic responsibilities always get in the way D:

anw, a gift for you

#vinny hong #vinny hong x reader #jay jo x reader #jay jo #windbreaker

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alcottsangel · 2 years

Text

Rotten Chapter 1 {Steve Harrington x fem!reader}

Masterlist | Ao3 | Soundtrack

Summary: When something horrible happens to Y/n, her friends find her. Platonic Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley x reader. Poc and plus-size friendly.

Warnings: Rape!!, cursing, panic attack, mentions of weed, hyperventilation, vomiting, blood, vaginal bruises.

last part | next part

Yeah, so I wrote this to deal with some things. You know how it goes.

"Need a ride?" Eddie Munson asked, as his van came to a halt next to Steve Harringtons car.

There was smoke coming from the engine and Robin and Nancy stood behind him, annoyance written on their faces.

The light rain that was falling only made everything worse.

Steve turned to the Metalhead, as Eddie just smirked smugly with the window on his passenger side down.

"We're managing just fine." Harrington answered, before once again facing the vehicle as if he had any idea how to fix it.

Nancy Wheeler was the first to step forward, open the door of the backseat and slip inside, which caused a light chuckle from Eddie.

Robin followed her immediately, and Steve shot her a betrayed glance that she answered with a shrug. "I'm not gonna freeze off my ass in the middle of the night, while it's raining, might I add, just because you're too proud to get into someone else's car." She told him, as she walked around the van to get into the seat behind Eddie.

"Come on, Harrington. Or I might just leave you here." Eddie joked. Steve sighed dramatically, before closing the engine hood, locking his automobile and getting into the passenger seat.

"My dad is going to kill me." He mumbled, as the other man started to drive again. The music that came from the radio was turned down, it was Eddies highly valued Exodus tape, the one Y/n gifted him for his last birthday.

"At least you won't get yourself hospitalised for hypothermia." Nancy laughed lightheartedly, causing the other to smile. "Yeah, I guess." Steve answered, as he leaned against the door and looked out of the window, his eyes followed the raindrops on the glass, like a child waiting for one of them to win the imaginary race.

They drove for a few minutes, the music still quiet, before Eddie cleared his throat.

"Where do you want me to drop you off anyways? Like, what was your plan? It's..." He glanced at the clock. "It's almost midnight, after all."

Robins gaze catched his in the rearview mirror. The blonde raised her brow. "We could ask you the same now, couldn't we?"

The man shrugged, as he leaned back a bit. "I was at a party. One of these preppy ones that I would never attend out of free will." He told them, which surprised the others.

"Why were you there, if you didn't wanna be?" Nancy asked, but not teasingly. It was a try to lift the awkwardness by holding small talk.

"I was meant to pick up Y/n Y/l/n. You know, promised her I wouldn't let her go home by herself. When I showed up I almost wasn't let in, I couldn't find her anywhere, then some cheerleaders told me she walked off with a one of these laundry-basket guys." Eddie sounded a tad hurt by her ditching him.

"Well." Robin chuckled. "Good for her I guess."

It was quiet after that, the music once again dominating. Eddie silently hummed along, until Steve broke the silence. "We wanted to go to the exact party you're coming from." He finally revealed, and Eddie laughed.

"My god, why would anyone voluntarily go there." His laugh was infectious, as the rest tagged along just a second before going quiet again.

"You and Y/n are pretty close, right?" Steve turned to face Eddie for the first time since getting into the car. Robin mentally face-palmed herself. How could someone make a crush any more obvious than asking her best friend if they were dating?

Eddie nodded, eying Steve suspiciously.

"We've been best friends since I stepped on her sandcastle in second grade. Of course we're close." Eddie answered and the girls on the backseat exchanged a glance.

Y/n was involved into the entire paranormal shit since the beginning, she was always there. She walked to the Wheelers house to pick out outfits before parties with Nancy since they were fourteen, she worked together with Steve and Robin, she was even the first person Robin dared to come out to, but she strictly separated these friendships from the one she shared with Eddie. Them smoking weed, judging the cheerleaders when they practiced and making each other mixtapes was just for them. The line started blurring when Eddie got involved into the paranormal shit too. Y/n still tried her best to prevent that. It was a blatantly stupid exchange, they were in the upside down together, they knew who was close and who wasn't. Chances were high Eddie was running to Y/n to tell her Steve had a little crush as soon as they were out of his car.

But neither of the boys said another word, until Eddie asked where he was taking them again, and Steve told him his adress. It wasn't like his parents were home anyways, so there was no issue with some friends staying over.

The Metalhead finally turned the music up, as 'Bonded by blood' was playing.

The crew fell silent once again.

That was, until Nancy saw a figure walking down the side of the road, dressed entirely unfitting for the rain (despite it being summer), and she soon recognised that person as Y/n Y/l/n herself.

"There's Y/n!" She blurted out and pointed into her direction. Eddie laughed, as if she was joking, until her spotted her himself and slowed the car, Steve rolled down the passenger window.

"Hey sweetheart, get in the car!" The Metalhead exclaimed. Y/n turned to him, she seemed startled, almost disturbed with her wet hair clinging to her face and her arms wrapped around her body.

"Eddie." She stated, her voice fragile.

The car now stood, and Y/n noticed that her best friend was not alone, as Steve opened his door to make space for her on the passenger seat.

"My lady." He joked, holding the door open for her. She recognised Robin and Nancy in the back, as they were waving lightly.

Y/n swallowed, still keeping her distance.

"I don't want to stain the seat." She stated, her eyes meeting Steve's briefly, before she quickly looked away again. Her voice sounded incredibly hollow and all of them knew that something was wrong. "A little rain won't do damage." Eddie chuckled to cheer her up a bit, but she just nodded hesitantly before slowly walking towards the door. Steve still held it open, and she stopped to look at him, whispering a 'thank you' his way while she sat down. He closed her door, before getting into the backseat as well, pushing Robin further into the car.

Eddie started driving once again, as the rain stopped and he turned off the windshield wipers.

"Their car broke down. I came to pick you up, like I promised, but you were already gone." The brunette informed her. Y/n only nodded again, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Are you alright?" Robin was the first to ask the question they all had. Y/n didn't react at first, then she opened her mouth and closed it again, before taking a deep breath.

"Sure." She shrugged, but her voice was still so brutally hollow and Steve could feel his chest tighten in worry. Eddie licked his lips, trying his best not to sound like a complete ass despite being a bit mad that she wasn't there when he came to that damn party, just for her. "Did that guy ditch you?" Her best friend asked, once again turning down the volume of his music.

"What?" Y/n stuttered, as she properly looked at the Metalhead for the first time.

Eddie shrugged. "Some girls told me you left with someone from the team. I mean, I don't like them, you know, but I thought you'd be fine. But he's a dick if he ditched you." He rambled.

Y/n could feel tears dwelling up, but she swallowed them as she turned away from her friends again. It took her a moment to form an answer, because she feared the tears would actually fall if she talked. And once she did, she only managed to blurt out an 'oh'.

So that's what everyone thought, huh? That she walked off with 'someone from the team', that she walked off with Jason Carver to have some fun? "Are you sure you're okay?" Nancy urged Y/n, as the latter felt the hand of the brunette woman on her shoulder. She was quick to move away, licking her lips and taking a few breaths before being capable of talking again.

"God, I'm fine. I walked off with some guy, he ditched me, it's not that deep. I'm fine." She reassured her friends, in a tone that made it clear she had no interest in discussing it further.

She leaned her head against the window, shifting on her seat to get as far away from everyone as she could.

Y/n lost focus, still picking at the hem of her skirt until she felt something wet between her legs. Her breathing stopped, before she boldly touched her thigh under her skirt. The car was dark, but as she saw the red liquid that now covered her palm she finally felt the reality wash all over her.

Everything around her got blurry, her head was pounding and suddenly everything was much too loud for her. The lump in her throat felt thicker, as she felt that she had to puke. Her breathing went faster and she gasped for air like a fish out of water, the panic now dominating entirely.

"Eddie, stop the car!" The young woman shrieked, startling the others.

"What? Why?!" Eddie exclaimed, still driving.

"Stop the car!" She told him again, her voice full of panic as she felt unable to breathe and began crying. Eddie hit the brakes abruptly, but as soon as the car stood on the completely empty road, Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of it.

She could only take three short steps, stumbling a bit until she fell to her knees at the side of the road, blood still on her hands and running down her legs, and threw up into the bushes. The gagging caused even more tears, and at this point it was a disgusting mix of hyperventilating and vomiting and her own blood.

Steve was the first who jumped out of the car to follow her, running around it as fast as he could and putting his hand onto her forehead to hold her while she still threw up. Y/n had no idea who held her, but she was grateful because everything, especially her head, felt so heavy, and without the person who held her she wouldn't be able to kneel anymore. Nancy was quick to follow, already preparing some handkerchiefs and a bottle of water.

Eddie was the one who realised she was bleeding, as he stared at the huge stain on the passenger seat. He felt the need to tell the others, to have them comfirm what was right before him, because he couldn't quite grasp it. His stuttering caught Robins attention, who then noticed it as well.

Her mind started racing, realising where Y/n bled, and then realising that she never just walked off with some guy. As the blonde put two and two together, she could feel tears coming up herself. God, that was what she meant when she said she didn't want to stain the seat...

"Shit, fuck." Robin whispered and walked off, brushing her hands through her face. "Fuck." She stated again, more loudly.

Y/n didn't even hear her, she still panicked as Steve rubbed circles on her back in a desperate attempt to sooth the crying girl.

"Sssssh, you're fine. It'll be fine. I'm right here. I got you, I won't let go." He assured .

Nancy and him exchanged a glance, as Nancy got up and handed Steve the supplies she had prepared.

The brunette woman walked towards Eddie, who got out of the car and seemed so livid, that she thought he was going to explode any second. He made an attempt to walk towards his best friend, but he seemed like he was about to scream, or hit something, anything, and Nancy stopped him.

"You're not being helpful." The brunette told him, but he shook his head. "You haven't seen it yet, have you?" He hissed, pointing to the car. Nancy shook her head in confusion, until the tears that now fell down the Metalheads cheeks got her moving, getting faster with every step until she reached the car and saw it herself.

"No." She breathed out. "No, no, no, no, no..."

Nancy looked at Robin, who never appeared more resigned, a silent conversation going on between them. They turned to Steve, the way he held Y/n, the way she would completely lose halt if he wouldn't be there. The way he whispered soothing words into her ear. They turned to Eddie, who kicked the tire of his car, running his hands through his hair with guilt written all over his face, and they turned to Y/n, understanding of what happened, what was done to her, washing over her, and how she held onto Steve like he was all she had and they thought that the person who did this to her, was worse than any upside down monster could ever be, because he was human.

I'll write a second part if you want one I guess. I'm not even sure if it's okay, I just needed to write this.

Taglist: (If you are tagged in red, it means I couldn't tag you. Here are reasons for that. Comment if you want to be added or removed, but please understand that I am not replying because I get alot. If you do not receive a notification that I added you, check here again to see if your name is red, or message me.)

#stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington x raped!reader #eddie munson

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