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67impalaandwhisky · 3 years

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Get Some Rest

Daryl Dixon x Wife

Rating: 18+

Chapter 3.

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst

Warnings For This Chapter: Blood, Close Call, Self Doubt, Reader Is Guilty Beyond Compare

A/N: Happy Wednesday! Enjoy!

"We stayed at the prison for a good while, we was gettin' comfy… too comfy when I think about it now. Your mama was fittin' in so well. Uncle Rick got over his wariness of your ma real fast. Probably because he saw how serious I was 'bout her." your husband begins, laying on his back and putting his hands beneath his head.

"It was almost like the group was seein' a whole new me 'cause when I'm with your mama… I just get lost in a different reality. She makes me wanna do things I ain't never thought I would do and she makes me wanna be the best man for her in the entire world…" Daryl recalls, smirking up to the ceiling.

"I was real nasty, real mean… Aunt Carol could tell you things I've said that she shoulda spit at me for. But when your ma came back to me I immediately changed. I can remember the first time it ever stuck with me that I would lay down my life for her."

Turning to your stomach, he drifts a soft hand over your exposed skin.

"It was the first time I ever brought your mama out on a run…"

"Who do you want to take with you?" Rick inquires, staring off past the chain link fence.

"I'll take Y/N, she needs to get some keener senses. All that girl knows how to do is hide real well. I gotta push her, she works well with me when the pressure is on," Daryl comments, cleaning his arrows.

"You really like this girl, huh?"

Dixon can sense how distracted the sheriff is, like he's waiting for someone to show up before his very eyes.

"She's the only girl that I've ever liked," the redneck replies, watching you feed Judith.

"Good for you, man." Rick murmurs, widening his eyes at something and taking off.

Daryl watches him leave, notching an eyebrow at his bewildered expression. He turns his attention to you after a moment, avidly eyeing how comfortable you are with Carl's little sister.

You're incredibly motherly, even if you don't notice it. The way you gently caress the baby's face and shoulder with your thumb as she feeds, even the pleased smiles you give down to her when she looks up at you with sleep hooded eyes -- it's perfection.

The redneck allows himself for a moment to picture what that would be like for him. He wonders if you'd ever come to love him that much that you'd start a family with him. Not that he'll ever get that… the apocalypse is no place for a family. Certainly no place for a pregnant woman.

He whistles sharply, trying to relax his face that's set into a grimace at the thought of your (probably) forever barren womb.

Your head lifts up and you smile at him widely, the sight making his heart race like a mule.

"We're goin' on a run," he notifies you.

Your eyes go wide and you point to yourself skeptically.

"Yeah, you, girl!" he laughs, picking up his crossbow and slinging it over his back. "Can't just count on me to save your life every minute."

"Oh but can't I?" you sigh, winking at him as you place Judith against your shoulder and begin to burp her.

Striding over to you, he looks down at you with blue eyes that light up with humor. Slinging his arm over your shoulders, he jests sweetly. "Whatchu sayin'? You need me?"

"My knight in baggy pants and sleeveless tees," you breathe dreamily, wrinkling your nose at him.

"Quit that shit, now. You're gettin' me all excited," he quips, kissing the top of your head.

"Let me go put the baby in her little crib and I'll meet you out here."

"We're takin' my bike," Daryl informs you, expecting your disdain.

And he is not disappointed.

You frown so deeply it looks like your face is going to melt off.

"I hate that fucking bike," you hiss, walking with him towards the prison.

He chuckles pleasantly, watching you grimace at the notion.

You've hated his bike since the day you met. It's too loud for you, you don't like the smell and above all, you don't like the speed.

"I ain't from the big city like you, you get to take trains and buses everywhere. All I've ever had was Merle's bike," he reminds you, holding the door open for you to enter first.

"Get me a bus, I'll drive that any day." you sigh, handing Carl the baby when he holds his arms out.

Daryl folds his arms, completely forgetting your current conversation. He watches how sad you are to give up the baby in your arms even though you try to mask it immediately.

God, he could really want to do this with you. He could really see you being his forever -- what a crazy thought that is.

"Alright, let's go." he breathes, putting his hand to his belt to make sure his knife is available at the ready.

You just stand there, checking to make sure you have your hunting knife and the handgun that Daryl gave you before giving him a thumbs up.

He waits patiently instead of getting annoyed like he usually would when someone is taking their sweet time. It seems like he has all the time in the world with you at the moment and he wouldn't give that up for jack squat.

"So what'd you do while you were searching for me?" he inquires, walking you out to his motorcycle.

"I played I Spy by myself." you murmur, watching the handsome man straddle his bike.

"Jesus Christ, that sounds borin' as sin," he scoffs, nodding to Glenn who readies the gate for opening.

"No! I had so much different material! I Spy something dead. I Spy something white that hasn't worked in years. I Spy something broken." you jeer, getting behind him on the bike and pressing your cheek flat to his back in an instant.

"Walkers. Refrigerator. Cars." Dixon rattles off, starting his bike.

The loud revving echoes into the air and you smile against his jean vest.

Even though you could tell him you hate his bike until you're blue in the face… there's something peaceful about it if you're being honest.

You did hate it at first, don't get you wrong. But when you started to like Daryl, it vastly changed and you were too embarrassed about it to shift your opinion.

You like having to call to him over the noise of the engine. You like hooking your arms around his solid frame. You like pressing your face against his back and just letting the bike rumble beneath you.

The redneck nods to Glenn, taking off when the gate gets pulled open.

"You better hold on tight, girl. I'm takin' you out for a midnight ride!" Dixon jests over the noise of the engine.

Your camaraderie comes back in waves. When you first found Daryl again, you were terrified. Terrified of being alone, terrified of the group -- not knowing then how tight knit their ties go.

But then the pace of Atlanta came back. You and Dixon are stuck at the hip, always in a constant state of liking one another just a little too much without doing anything about it.

Yeah, you guys kissed when you found him again. Yeah, you sleep beside one another and hold one another. Yeah, he drifts his lips over the top of your head easily.

But that's all it's been for a month.

You're wondering if you'll ever be able to carry something out with him that's tangible.

"Why won't you fuck me?" you call over the noise as you drive down the empty road.

Daryl's hands grip the brake a little too tightly at your sudden question and you all but stop on the spot.

"What?" he hisses, tilting his head back to you with wide eyes.

"We… I mean we like each other, right? I kind of expected you to fuck me by now." you bleat.

Dixon clears his throat, swatting away a fly or two that tries to enter his personal space. There's a gentle hum of growling that you can hear that notifies you of the dead slowly walking towards you.

His neck and ears turn red in an instant, clearly embarrassed by your brazen question.

"You tryina' get us killed? Ya can't just ask me somethin' like that so calmly!" he snaps, looking up and surveying the distant walkers.

You find a goofy smirk etching onto your features in no time. "You don't find me pretty enough? Is that it?"

He simply scoffs at your question, turning back around and shaking his head. "You ain't pretty."

You smack his back roughly, practically feeling the smile that spreads on his lips. "You're beautiful. Now shut the hell up and let me ride. Tryina' get us there in one piece and you gotta go and ask somethin' like that." he ends up griping, starting to drive on.

"I've never had an apocalypse boyfriend before," you call to him, burying your face into his back.

You can feel the rumble of his laugh echo throughout his body. It's hard to make out with the wind in your ears but you think you hear him speak even if it's soft. "Never had a girl I cared about as much as you."

Finally pulling up into the abandoned town, your limbs feel tingly as you dismount the motorcycle.

Daryl keeps quiet, surveying the area around him.

He can remember all the things needed on the list without having to take it out. Merle used to engrain Army training into his brain when he wasn't high as hell on drugs.

"Baby store," Daryl murmurs in your ear.

He watches your eyes light up and he can barely contain the groan of attraction that lays thickly beneath his throat.

You're really careless, the redneck knows it to be a fact when you all but skip to the sidewalk without a care in the world.

"Psst!" he hisses, grabbing onto your side and pulling you back behind him.

"Maybe we should get the baby some toys too and clothes," you whisper happily, stepping behind him and pulling out your knife.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk, aiming his bow at the door.

Lifting his hand, he counts in silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Tugging open the door, a walker stumbles out.

Your body freezes in place for a moment, all joints locking when your heart picks up speed. The walker heads right for Daryl and your breath catches in your throat when he doesn't move an inch.

You need to do this.

You need to be able to have his back too.

With a shaking hand and a small squeak you jab your knife into his skull.

"That's it, you lil' chicken shit." Daryl quips, stepping inside the store with his hand up, telling you to wait.

He surveys the area, making sure that every inch of the store is in his sights.

There's two more walkers roaming, one with a uniform for the store.

He ushers you in, sliding the door shut behind you both.

Shooting one with his crossbow easily, he nods to the other and you know it's yours to take care of.

You want to prove yourself. You want him to know that you aren't just a pretty thing that needs protection.

Daryl himself knows deep within his gut that he's never going to let you out of his sight, he's never going to allow you to have to fend for yourself but you need these skills just in case.

Your feet take off slowly, stepping over strewn baby items and clothes.

Remembering how Daryl taught you to breathe before moments of action, you try and will your lungs to behave.

"Ain't no use in hyperventilatin' over it. Just take some deep breaths and make your move," he told you all that time ago before you reached the supposed safe-zone.

You inch closer to the walker, thankful that his back is towards you.

Daryl, of course, has his bow aimed at the dead man just in case things go south. He's proud of how you prowl, how slow and steady your movements are when your insides are probably jumping and jittering all over the damn place.

You're so close to him you can practically taste it -- you can certainly smell it.

Lifting your head and your gaze, you raise your arm. Your hand quivers, gripping tightly at the knife and right when you're about to strike, your body slips out from underneath you.

"Fuck!" you cry out, slamming your head against the wall as you crumple.

There's a tight grip around your leg and with double, slow vision you can make out half a walker without legs raring to bite you.

"Y/N!" Daryl shouts, wading through the aisles with fast feet.

The other walker who you were about to take out now turns his attention to you, he growls loudly, dropping to his knees in an instant.

With a frightened scream, you kick at the walker with the grasp on your ankle, somehow pleading that the heel of your combat boot will go through it's skull.

Propping your arms up, you try to keep the walker on his knees away from your face. He's chopping his teeth, black and deep red blood oozing from his mouth and down your arms.

"Daryl!" you sob loudly, thrashing your feet.

You can feel a warm trickle of something slowly making its way down your forehead.

The redneck can't even breathe, he's fighting off all the negative thoughts in his brain as he rushes aisle by aisle.

Finally he stops short in front of you, immediately firing an arrow off to the walker just mere centimeters before your face.

He kicks the walker off your foot, stomping it's head in with his boot a multitude of times until brains and blood are all over the floor.

You continue to sob, body shivering and vision hazy.

Daryl kneels down before you with fast movements, placing his hands on either side of your face.

"You okay? Let me look at ya," he insists, pulling at your body to check for bites or scratches.

"I'm sorry!" you cry out softly, cupping your mouth to quiet the sobs that get louder.

He shushes you in an instant, pulling you to his chest. "Shhh. You're alright, baby girl. I'm the one that's fuckin' sorry. I shouldn't 'ave let you try to do it alone."

While he holds you close, getting your blood all over his sleeveless t-shirt, he begins to berate himself.

He's used to it by now, the anger that forms in his heart at the crack of a whip.

The thought of losing you… it makes him livid.

"You needa check the ground too, you understand me? This ain't no goddamn free for all. What would I have done if ya got bit? You think I wanna live in a world where you don't exist?! Be smarter, goddammit! I need ya to be able to look out for yourself! You need to be smarter! Understand?!" he chides you, tilting your head back to look into your eyes.

You whimper gently at his harsh tone, nodding your head almost childishly.

Daryl's heart thrums and clenches at your heartbroken expression. In a moment, he finds the flames of anger being soothed within him.

He sighs loudly, lifting himself to look at the gash on top of your head.

"Goddamn it," he curses, grabbing an unopened pack of baby towels from the rack behind him.

He rips open the plastic and presses the towel to the top of your head. "Hold this here. Ya might need a stitch or two from Herschel when we get back. Let me go and make sure the store is clear. Don't move, understand?"

You nod gently, wincing at the sharp pain that echoes through your skull with each movement.

He grabs his crossbow, scoffing at the thought of you being hurt worse than you are right now.

You're berating yourself at the moment, absolutely pissed that you couldn't just do this one thing without causing trouble for the man you adore.

It used to really get to you back in Atlanta.

You don't understand how you can't just do something without there being repercussions. You try so hard and you feel like it always falls short.

Kicking your leg out, you frown. Wiping at your tears with an angry hand, you stare up at the ceiling.

Daryl checks every nook and cranny, keeping his bow at eye level.

It seems that only three walkers were in the whole store. That's a blessing these days.

He looks at you over the register, watching how fed up and angry you are with yourself.

He's had these instincts since he was younger, he had to fend for himself. You never needed to and sometimes it doesn't process in his brain fast enough.

He shouldn't have gotten pissy with you. He shouldn't have taken his frightened anger out on you.

Solemnly walking back over, he crouches down before you.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at ya. I was just scared of losin' you. I didn't think…" Daryl whispers, lifting your chin with his index finger.

He presses his lips to yours softly, hoping you accept his apology. You kiss back, wincing when you lean forward for more.

"You should be mad at me. I don't know how to fucking do anything without causing trouble," you seethe through your teeth, sliding yourself back up the wall to stand.

The redneck can hear the venom in your voice that's targeted at yourself.

"Hey now," he breathes, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Should have just let Rick toss me back out to those walkers… I'm not useful enough to earn my keep," you murmur, walking away from him.

"Don't you talk like that," Daryl hisses, wrapping his arm around your wrist and tugging you back to his body. He buries your face into his chest, keeping you against him until there isn't any room for anything else. "I would fuckin' die for you. I wouldn't be able to live without ya. Stop talkin' like that!"

You simply shrug, pulling away from him and grabbing a basket. "What do we need?"

When you finally make it back to the prison, you don't give anyone the carefree smile that you normally would.

You feel dead inside. You're angry at yourself… more angry than you've been in a long time.

Skills like Daryl's take a long time to learn and you sure aren't a quick study but it's really gotten to you.

Rick watches you both, watches how Daryl shuts the bike off with a wince and how you immediately hop off and walk away from him.

There's been a frigid silence between you both since the baby store and Daryl doesn't know how to fix it.

The redneck gets off his bike, kicking at a rock or two with his shoe. He doesn't know where to channel his anger so he whistles sharply to attract some walkers by the gates. Pulling out his knife, he stabs a few of them in the head, cursing and spitting to relieve the ball of frustration lodged in his throat.

You enter the jail, tossing the bag of baby supplies onto the table flippantly. Carl and Carol watch you without a word spoken between them.

Your face is pinched into an ungodly expression, heart hammering with livid thoughts.

"You're hurt," Hershel calls to you, watching blood drip from your forehead to your cheek.

"Let me bleed out," you breathe, walking back outside to be away from everyone.

You sit down in the courtyard, pulling out your knife and flipping it back and forth within your hand.

"You causing trouble for Daryl?" Rick grits through his teeth, storming towards you.

"Yep," you reply simply, looking down at the ground between your legs.

"I shouldn't have let you come in here if you're gonna go and mess his head up," he hisses, folding his arms.

You shrug. "I agree, maybe you should send me packing."

"That what you want? You want to leave? You're free to go," the sheriff breathes, pointing at the gate.

"No problem. I'll pack a bag," you chirp.

Daryl can hear your words carried on the wind and he turns to the both of you so fast that he pulls a muscle in his neck.

"Hey!" he yells, barreling over to the both of you. "Stop fuckin' talkin' like that!"

His bellows earn attention. The rest of the group slowly exits the prison to come and watch you all. Daryl's too fired up by the flippant disregard of your life to pay them an iota of attention.

He pushes the sheriff, widening his eyes. "She ain't goin' nowhere! Don't you be sayin' nothin' like that to her! What happens between us is my own damn problem!"

Rick sighs softly, watching Dixon crouch before you.

"Stop this! It's enough! Just 'cause one little thing happened doesn't mean you can't fend for yourself! You weren't alone, I was there!"

"You shouldn't have to protect me! I should be able to do it myself!" you shout back, hating how your eyes sting.

"I'm always gonna be there to protect you! I fuckin' love you! So you couldn't handle them walkers today, so what?! I was there to back you up. I love you so much that I don't even want ya to have to fend for your fuckin' self! Stop thinkin' that you're so worthless 'cause you mean everything to me!"

Dixon doesn't even catch his confession, he's too focused on trying to snap you back into the present with him.

Once the word 'love' breeches past Daryl's lips, Rick excuses himself.

You narrow your eyes at the grey pavement beneath you, furrowing your eyebrows. To hear those words from him… it makes your soul sing and your heart even heavier.

"I love you too… Which is why I'm so pissed that I couldn't help myself and save you the trouble of getting worried."

Dixon scoffs, sitting down beside you and tugging you against his chest. "You ain't worthless. You ain't trouble. You ain't any negative thing you wanna start thinkin'. I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. Quit beatin' yourself up, baby girl. Sooner or later, you're gonna get so good at killin' them walkers that you're gonna start puttin' their heads on spikes."

You find yourself guffawing at the ridiculousness of his words.

There's silence between you both and you can hear how fast Daryl's heart is beating in his chest.

It soothes you in all honesty.

"I just want to prove myself," you finally state, carding your fingers through your hair.

"And ya will. When you're ready." your boyfriend promises, holding you closer. "Shows over! Hope ya enjoyed the free entertainment for the day!"

You sigh softly, threading your fingers with his. He kisses the back of your hand, letting a silent promise carry through the hot, arid air.

You're never going to be alone.

He'll promise it till he's blue in the face.

"I do love you, ya know." Daryl breathes, kissing your temple.

"I love you too," you bleat, looking up at him.

He wipes your face, taking the blood off your forehead with a sigh.

"Let's get you stitched up." Dixon whispers, helping you stand u--

"You're telling it wrong," you breathe, sitting up on your elbows.

Your husband looks up at you, running his hand up from your belly to your cheek. "Oh yeah? What am I forgettin?"

"You punched Rick in the face, you didn't just push him." you state, leaning up against the headboard.

Daryl rolls his eyes, linking his fingers with yours. "I didn't think the baby had to know that I beat his uncle and broke his nose."

You snort loudly, carding your fingers through his hair. "If you're going for authenticity then you should speak the whole truth."

"Fine, I punched your uncle so hard in the face that his nose snapped. All 'cause I can't stand the thought of your mama feelin' down and sorry for herself."

"I did get better at killing walkers though," you insist, stretching out your limbs which are heavy from your nap.

"Oh yes you did. Your mama saved my life on more than a few occasions. I gotta tell ya that story too." Daryl tells your bump, sitting up against the headboard with you and pulling you into his arms.

Next Chapter ------>

Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmax, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon smut #daryl x you #get some rest #twd fic #the walking dead #twd fanfiction

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poisonedapples · 3 years

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Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test.

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react.

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #foster au #implied past abuse #past abuse #stealing

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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Barrels, Bets and Balls

pairing: Zoro x Drunk!Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: The Straw hats are presented with millenary rum from an Ancient Giant Tribe and, well, no one is giving you that anymore.

higlight: ¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨

warning: Don´t read and drive.

notes: HOLD MY BEER! Hi, guys! This was a lovely request from @roronoatrash for a drunk s/o! I have to say this is my first time writing a drunk character so I´m a bit nervous hahaha I really really hope you like it! Have fun and drink responsibly! <3 @vemuabhi

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Agh!¨ you mumbled when you tried to lift your head from the pillow. It felt like the Thousand Sunny had run over you a thousand times.

¨Hm?¨

¨Regret ... mhbeh ... thing...¨ your mouth was so dry that talking became almost impossible.

¨What´s that?¨ Zoro asked, definitely amused by your deplorable state.

¨Hmmm... I don´t... regret... anything.¨

¨Of course you don´t. You don´t remember anything.¨ he shifted on the bed, making it look like a black hole was opening in the mattress. ¨Here, take this.¨ He handed you something.

¨I don´t need your pity... ma-marimo.¨

¨This is not pity, Y/N. This is a painkiller. Come on, you´re gonna feel better.¨

When he helped you to sit on the bed, you noticed something stuck to the window, preventing the sun from entering and blinding you. The greenette removed a few locks of hair that laid plastered across your face before helping you with the herculean task of taking the pill.

¨If the stupid cook is not dead he must have made coffee.¨ he stood up, grabbing your slippers and placing them in front of you.

In the meantime, your mind tried to gather whatever useful information you had to understand what had happened, but everything was a void blank.

¨You ok?¨ he asked, hand on the doorknob. ¨Do you want me to bring it to you?¨

¨No, it´s ok...¨ you pinched the bridge of your nose, making one last effort to remember at least a crumb of the previous hours. You were fast to give up, though. ¨What happened?¨

¨Uhhh, you got drunk and passed out.¨ he said like it was no big deal.

¨Hmm, ok...¨ you took a few seconds to digest his words ¨but when you say ´you´ you mean ´you me´ or ´you guys´?¨

A chuckle left his mouth ¨Come and you´ll see.¨

The sun shone high in the sky, forcing you to wince back into your room like the time you had your shadow stolen. You stumbled and lowered yourself to the floor, crawling away from the light.

¨You go!¨ you said dramatically, covering your eyes ¨Run away and leave me! Tell everyone... that I fought until the last moment!¨

Zoro scoffed at your poorly performed scene, walking closer to you and squatting, back turned to you. ¨Hop, soldier. We don´t leave nakamas behind, right?¨

Your cheeks reddened with his gesture, and you hid your hungover smitten smile on the crook of his neck. ¨Hold tight, Y//N.¨

Oh, I will. Ouch, my head!

As soon as you reached the main deck, your eyes widened, ignoring the bright sun, and your mouth fell in a perfect O.

¨Oh my freaking... what happened here?¨

If it weren't for the countless barrels, you would have easily thought that you had been chewed up by a sea king.

The Straw Hats were scattered across the deck, mixed with garbage, blankets, and rolls of toilet paper. Their unorthodox positions would definitely grant them a stiff neck.

Zoro carried you to the kitchen where you found Usopp and Chopper talking at the kitchen table.

¨... like I fasted in a desert for forty nights, and then I survived... a buster call. And like... all of the battleships were pointed at me. And I was catching fire before that.¨ you heard Usopp whine to the doctor, who wrapped some bandages on him.

¨Oi, who made coffee?¨ Zoro asked purposely loud.

¨SHHHH!¨ you and the sniper hissed at him.

¨Sanji did.¨ Chopper answered ¨Oh, Y/N, how are you feeling?¨

¨Like my heart is beating in my head.¨

¨At least there´s a heartbeat.¨ the swordsman replied, putting you close to a chair so you could take a seat. ¨Hm, Chopper, I saw the cook dead outside.¨

¨Yeah, he made coffee and then passed out again.¨ Chopper discreetly pointed at Usopp´s bandages.

¨He passed out and spilled hot coffee on me!¨ he roared, stopping midway to whine.

¨But you two look pretty good, though.¨ You referred to Chopper and Zoro.

Not Usopp, definitely not Usopp.

¨Night watch. I didn´t drink last night.¨ the doctor sighed, relieved.

¨And I can handle my alcohol.¨ the greenette bragged, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of you.

¨What happened anyway?¨

¨Oh! You don´t remember too, Y/N? That millenary rum was really strong!¨ Chopper asked, fascinated by the effects of the beverage.

¨Millenary rum?¨

¨Yeah! It was a gift from an Ancient Giant Tribe!¨

¨Giant tribe?¨ you kept repeating every word he said, double-checking to see if you were not hearing things.

¨Y/N, what´s the last thing you remember?¨

¨Hmm, let me see...¨ you rested your elbows on the table, hands covering your eyes. Wow, even thinking hurts.

<~>

¨I swear to God, Tony! When Luffy falls into the water, you can not jump after him!¨ you yelled, panting from climbing back to the ship and soaking wet of salty water.

He pouted and whined. You only called him ¨Tony¨ when you were upset with him.

¨So-Sorry Y/N... AaaAgh...¨ his voice trembled, and you couldn´t help but soften a little.

¨Ugh, forget it.¨ you laid down on the grass and sighed, the reindeer on your belly ¨Are you alright, Chopper?¨

¨Y-Yeah...¨

Zoro emerged a few seconds later, carrying Luffy on his shoulder.

You had engaged in a fight against some bandits who were causing trouble on an island called Gran Brabados. From what you could understand, they were descendants of the Ancient Giant Tribe who emancipated from Elbaf after years of conflict.

¨I don´t wanna be rude, but¨ Usopp spoke to one of them ¨I thought giants were warriors. Like Broggy and Dory. Those guys fought for over 100 years!¨

¨Well, most of us are, but some are not. That's why we left Elbaf.¨ the giant said ¨We're not interested in war, we're interested in rum!¨

All of you stopped for a second, wondering if you heard the same thing.

¨Eh?¨ you spoke.

¨We don´t make war! We make rum!¨ he threw his huge hands in the air, chest puffing out of pride.

¨Oi, really? Give us some!¨ Zoro immediately threw Luffy on the floor and ran towards the giant. Next thing you knew, the giant burst into laughter.

¨Gabababa!¨ he hunched as he laughed ¨Sorry, but tiny people like you can't handle it! Gababababa!¨

You were not sure what offended you the most, he calling you all, who just saved their asses, weak or having to dodge the huge drops of saliva that came out of his mouth.

After insisting a lot, he ended up giving in, presenting the straw hats with barrels and barrels of millenary rum. Yeah, millenary. Rum distilled for one thousand years, or at least that is what he said.

The celebration didn´t take long to begin. Because Luffy had decided to set sail that same day, you would all be bathed with a pleasant sunset as you partied.

¨Wow!¨ you shouted after chugging the first tankard. ¨Oooohh, this is good booze!¨ you shook your head, already feeling the kick.

¨Girl, you should go easy on this. It´s super strong.¨ Franky said, making you scoff at him, possessed by some waspish Viking demon.

¨And here I thought you were hard-boiled.¨

¨What?¨

¨O-Oi, Y/N...¨ Usopp said, worried, sipping his drink.

¨Haven´t you learned anything with Tom-san?¨ you clicked your tongue ¨Meh, I guess I´ll be the one making things with a DON around here!¨ you chugged more of the rum.

The shipwright glared at you with a red beam coming out of his left eye. You remember questioning yourself for a second. Maybe you had said too much, but it was just for a brief second before you insulted someone else.

Back at the kitchen table, flashes of the events from the last night began to pop in your mind. Guilt and embarrassment gushed over you, making you twist and cringe.

¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨ Chopper shivered as he quoted your words.

¨Nooo...¨ you cried out.

¨It gets worse, Y/N.¨

¨What?! How?!¨

¨Because after that,¨ Zoro started to speak, and you saw him struggle to stop a smile from cracking. That was not a good sign. ¨you said "your balls are so small Robin could have grabbed them with one hand!¨

The men laughed and slapped the table as you looked for a place to bury your head or a knife to stab yourself in the heart.

¨WHY DIDN´T YOU STOP ME?¨ you yelled, pulling your boyfriend by the collar and shaking him.

He placed a hand on your forehead, a silly thing he did every time you got too nervous. ¨Oi, you´re a big girl. You know what you´re doing.¨

¨Noo, obviously I don´t!¨ He smiled.

He would not be the one to tell you, but he did have to stop Franky from Radical Beam-ing the hell out of you several times. For some reason, you were very keen on insulting the cyborg's masculinity.

Another thing he wouldn´t tell you was that he didn´t touch the rum in the last night. He decided to remain sober and look after you, making sure you would not kill someone or get yourself killed.

However, despite all the trouble you gave him, he recognized your strength. Straw hat after straw hat, you managed to defeat everyone in a stupid drinking contest.

The biggest achievement was to drag Luffy into the game since he dislikes the taste of alcohol. When he denied being part of it, you teased him by saying,¨I think you are just scared, Luffy. You know what, maybe I should be the Captain of this ship! Maybe, I will be the Pirate King!¨

That was about the sixth punch Zoro took for you. Or because of you.

The darker the night fell, the wilder you all got. And then insults began to come from every direction to every direction. You were arguing, then laughing, then crying and apologizing. If it wasn´t for Zoro, Chopper would have had a heart attack.

¨Nami, you thief! Give me back my queen, or I´ll be forced to shoot a Bidori Moshi at you!¨ Usopp yelled, holding a bunch of cards in his hands.

¨Oi, Usopp! How dare you speak with a lady like that?! I´ll kick you in the face!¨

¨Bring it on, Sanji! I eat eggplants like you for breakfast every day! AND IT´S GOD USOPP FOR YOU!¨

¨Zoro...¨ Chopper cried, falling close to where the swordsman was sitting. ¨W-What are we going to do?¨

¨Uh? Ah, sit back and relax. You know these guys, they are ju-¨

¨Y/N-san, may I see your panties?¨

¨Well, too bad for you I´m not weari-¨

¨OI! Y/N!¨ Zoro dashed over, throwing you on his shoulder.

That was about the first punch Brook took for you. Or, again, because of you.

And then, as the number of biological hazards began to decline, managing the situation became easier and easier. Chopper took care of the fallen drunken, and Zoro threw blankets over them.

In the end, it was you and Luffy. You were still arguing about the things you said earlier. Both of you were exhausted but didn´t want to give in. The argument only ended when you withdrew your words, saying that he would be the one to become King of the Pirates.

Luffy fell dead asleep immediately, and Zoro took the cue to approach you. ¨Hey, Y/N. Our time, let´s go?¨

You turned to him and nodded, red cheeks and tired eyes. He had to scoop you up and carry you back to your room since your legs were not part of the equation anymore, and you would let go and fall every time he tried to carry you on his back.

¨Heeey, you´re not drunk!¨ you whined, almost falling asleep. ¨Why aren´t you drunk?¨

¨Cause you drank everything.¨

¨Noo, I can find s´more.¨ you uncovered yourself, trying to get out of bed.

¨I bet you can.¨ he said, covering you again and pulling you closer.

The warmth of his body, altogether with his hand gently rubbing your back, made your system shut down.

¨You know... I can kick your ass... in a drinking contest...¨

¨Yeah,¨ he chuckled ¨I bet you can.¨

That was definitely not true, but for you, well, for you he could pretend it was.

#one piece #oneshot #worst generation #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #franky #usopp #chopper #luffy #nami #brook #thousand sunny #elbaf #rum #pirate king #opfanfic

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visbiscuit · 3 years

Text

Our Pal is Doomed ( kyle )

2nd December

(full) 25 days of CHRIS-mas ,, My Masterlist

@wiypt-writes @what-is-your-plan-today

disclaimer. English is not my main language. If you notice any kind of mistakes, please tell me and don’t be mean :). I am giving a shot at this to try and improve my written English. Thank you for paying attention and have a biscuit for your kindness!

pairing. Pumba!Kyle x Timon,Fem!Reader

genre. fluff

short summary. Matty is completely smitten with Francesca. What about Kyle and Y/N? Where does this leave them? The trio is probably going to be forgotten if they do not do something and this cannot happen. This is how Kyle and Y/N try to stop love from blossoming, but it does anyway and not only between Matty and Francesca.

word count. 4049

warnings. best friends to lovers. underage drinking (don't do it!). fast-paced romance, some bad words. the last fluff work for a while, after this one-shot is smut time! did i use "can you feel the love tonight" lines? yes i did. do i feel ashamed? no i don't. i love disney, this is not the last, sort of, AU. the story has no correlation with the film whatsoever... i don't remember it, sorry (but not really)

you’re welcome to reblog, like and comment!

THE BEGINNING.

"Disgusting."

The leaves of the overgrown bush hid a boy and a girl who couldn't have been more than seventeen years old each, and who were desperately trying to hear what a young couple, not too far from them, was talking about. In fact, the bush didn't hide them very well, because they were definitely taller than it, but they had both crouched down so much that they became one with the dirty earth still wet from the rainy night. Kyle, that was the boy's name, had stupidly worn a light-colored trouser that had immediately become filthy. He could already imagine what his mom would say to him once he got home, he just hoped she wouldn't ground him for the end of his days. On the other hand, Y/N, the girl, had cleverly chosen camouflage pants that also came in handy for their spy operation.

"Ew, he's got that googly eyes," she commented with a snicker.

To her left, Kyle nodded vigorously. "So, you saw that too! He looks like a zombie."

"Only a blind man wouldn't see that Matty is completely smitten with her" Y/N's voice sounded disappointed in her friend's behavior. He was hiding the feelings he had for this girl from her. He was definitely afraid of being judged. "Where did this Francesca come from anyway?"

Kyle shrugged; he didn't know where this girl had come from either. Sure, she had a reputation at school, but not an important one to the point of knowing exactly who she was. The two had become suspicious when Matty had said he couldn't make it to their weekly D&D meeting. An impossible thing since he'd shown up even when he'd hit a fever of 104 degrees and risked mixing his two friends as well. So, it was an excuse and, of course, both Kyle and Y/N had no intention of confronting Matty. That's why they'd launched into a deadly chase that wasn't deadly at all since they'd followed him for only three blocks where he'd stopped to meet the reddish-haired girl. "I would never lose an afternoon together to be with a girl," Kyle commented, outraged by that betrayal.

Y/N gave him a couple of pats on the back. "I'm sure you would, it'll be years before you get a proper girl."

"Offensive"

"Yet it's true" then she shushed him with her gaze when she saw the, maybe?, couple shift and move closer to their bush. They crouched even closer until they could even see the ants and heard a couple of giggles from her and a completely enamored sigh from him. The words were unclear. "Come on K, let's go," she urged him. By now they were too close for them not to be seen, it was better to get away to make a foolproof plan.

Silently and after banging her forehead against Kyle's, they managed to leave without being seen and shook off the dirt stuck to their pants. The boy thought the only solution for his light-colored pants was to burn them so his mother wouldn't see them. They were no longer beige, but dark brown. "I don't understand why he acted that way."

"I can see what's happening," Y/N began. s

Kyle's gaze was confused. "What"

"And they don't have a clue" the girl's tone was bitter. "Don't you think so too, Kyle?"

The boy scratched the back of his head, embarrassed that he couldn't catch what his best friend was telling him. "Who?"

She slapped the same back of his head. "Matty and Francesca, of course! They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line - she sighed - Our trio's down to two."

"Don't even say that, Y/N!" he pointed his finger at her even though he knew how right she was. "Matty would never do such a thing...it would go against our oath."

The girl's gaze was hurt, but she smiled at her friend's attempt to downplay it. "It can be assumed, his carefree days with us are history."

Kyle was bewildered, walking even slower than he should have. Now the sun was setting and they were supposed to go home, but how could he go there and pretend to be calm? It had always been him, Y/N, and Matty together. The three musketeers they called them. They'd never been apart, but it sure seemed like their time was up. "What can we do?"

"We don't have to make them fall in love, simple as that," asserted the girl. "If we do nothing...in short, our pal is doomed."

#1 ATTEMPT

The school was the perfect place to put the first part of their plan into action. It was important to get them out of the way, but how to do that if Y/N and Kyle weren't even supposed to know about their secret love affair? Simple, the two of them had to be outsiders to everything. They were like spectators at a theatre premiere, their role was only to clap at times and give props to the main characters. That December morning, the main characters were not Matty and Francesca, oh no, they were Rick and Francesca.

Rick was the most popular boy in school, but also the one with the least desire to study in all the schools in town. To get promoted each year, he always relied on a circle of geeks who would complete every written test for him in exchange for favors they would collect at any point in their school careers. Y/N, fortunately, was in that little group and had finally asked the boy for the favor of the century: he would have to hook up with Francesca or he would never pass History. And as per the agreement, there he was, in all his teenage glory leaning against the wall of the building and with a smile so bright that even the sun could not compare.

When Y/N had pitched the idea to Kyle, he'd been concerned that it would make Matty suffer, but he'd realized it was a necessary pain. After quite a bit of reasoning, he'd become so happy that he'd hugged his best friend tightly as she turned into a stuttering red tomato. Just as Kyle had no experience with girls, Y/N didn't know exactly what it meant to be together with someone either. She, however, had chosen this path when she realized there was only one person she wanted to be in a relationship with. Too bad he only saw her as a sister instead of a possible lover. When she'd realized that, Y/N had cried every night in her bed at the thought that Kyle wasn't the least bit interested in her, but then she'd given up and gone on with her life as if nothing was wrong.

"Is this going to work?" her best friend's voice was closer than she expected and she jerked as soon as she heard it. His breath was warm on her ear in contrast to the cold December air. "Oh, I'm sorry," he trailed off. For a moment Y/N had hoped he would stay in that position.

Then she ran a hand over her shoulder to drop some of the snow that had fallen on it. "Of course it will work, it's my plan after all," she puffed out her chest, proud of what she had come up with.

"I helped a little too, come on" Kyle laughed, shivering a little from the cold.

Y/N shifted her gaze away from Rick and Francesca and looked at her friend with an arched eyebrow. "And let's hear it, what would you have done?" she asked, teasing him. Their friendship was like that, a little incomprehensible in the eyes of the girl who often couldn't tell if he was flirting with her or just joking around.

"Who accompanied you to Rick's? Without me you would never have gone, admit it," he poked her side with his hand covered in a thick glove. He did it two, three, four times, making her laugh more and more. He had discovered as a child that one of Y/N's weaknesses was tickling, and from then on, he had used it as a secret weapon. "Come on, say it!"

The girl raised her hands in surrender as she doubled over trying to stop that assault. "All right, all right. Without you I couldn't have done it!" she almost shouted, drawing the attention of a few schoolmates who were watching them completely confused.

Kyle bit his lip to keep from smiling and then took on a serious expression. "Good girl," he said and then looked into her eyes with an amused look. She returned his gaze without ever lowering it.

His eyes were crystal clear and expressed all the things he didn't want to or couldn't put into words. The problem was that Y/N, despite always saying when Kyle was an open book, couldn't read them. If she had, behind the amusement, she would have seen a more... sweet side that he reserved only for her. A gaze that occasionally moved to her lips for a split second as if contemplating what to do. Of course, it wasn't like the girl had seen this hidden desire. Oh no, she was too focused on keeping her own feelings from leaking out to notice how much his were in plain sight.

She didn't know how long they'd been staring at each other, but it was Matty's voice that distracted them. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all"

Matty nodded, a smile on his face. "Uh-uh"

Y/N brushed her snow-soaked hair out of her face, embarrassed, and cleared her throat. "Uhm, di-did - she took a big breath - did you see the news today?" with a nod she pointed to Rick and Francesca.

"He must be asking her to help him with algebra." He was underestimating the situation.

Kyle adjusted his backpack and put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "I don't think so, Matty, I think Rick Wyler is hitting on Francesca. They'd be great together, wouldn't they?"

"Hmm, maybe, but she doesn't seem interested."

"What?" she shrieked. She turned sharply in time to see Francesca slap Rick's cheek and walk away at a fast, angry pace. "Two seconds ago they were so close!"

"You can tell Rick doesn't have a way with girls."

"Obviously."

Matty waved them off and quickly headed for the school entrance. It wasn't until then that they realized they were late and the bell had already been ringing for a couple of minutes. Y/N was really down in the dumps, but, indeed, Rick was a dumbass who had surely made some wrong comment. She sighed, disappointed that she had failed.

"Hey, don't make that face. It'll be for the next one," he encouraged her, then casually took her hand and dragged her toward the school. "We'll figure it out later."

She didn't hear what he said, she could only stare at their intertwined hands.

#2 ATTEMPT

"A spider, that's your plan."

"Don't be like that, young lady" Kyle scolded her, he had an empty little glass box in his hands. "After the resounding failure..."

"You said we weren't going to talk about it anymore."

"Sh, what was I saying?" he pretended to be thoughtful "Ah yes! Resounding failure of yours, you told me we would try to do it my way."

Y/N rolled her eyes and nodded. She knew very well the agreement they had made after getting out of school five days earlier. It had been her idea to ask Rick for help and she did not remember his stupidity, so, now it was Kyle's turn. Although she wanted Matty to remain part of the trio, she would certainly enjoy watching her other friend fail. But this wasn't a competition, it was a game, and to win they would have to stick together. Y/N had to leave her competitiveness aside, although it was very difficult for her. She returned her attention to the icy road and continued to follow Matty's car, in which there was also Francesca.

Once again, Matty had lied to skip D&D, and Kyle and Y/N had thought this would be a good time to implement the second phase of their plan...it wasn't well understood by the girl, since he had taken care of everything, however, it was still an important phase. She hoped. She had been driving for about twenty minutes already and had taken her cousin's car so as not to arouse suspicion. If she had taken hers, given the very bright color, Matty would have noticed right away and they couldn't risk being seen.

"So what did you do?" she asked him. She was completely kept in the dark. Kyle had never been good at keeping secrets from her, but this time he hadn't let anything slip. He had been smart and left no trace. "Come on, I can't take it anymore," she whined like a wayward child.

Kyle chuckled and placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it as if to make her calm down. Of course, it had the opposite effect, causing the girl to skip a heartbeat and her breath to catch. Since he had taken her hand before entering school, the boy had increased their physical contact. She didn't mind at all, but she still had to get used to all the hugs, kisses on the cheek, and intertwined hands. "Matty is literally terrified of spiders," he affirmed. This was nothing new.

"And...?" she urged him to speak, almost missing a right turn in her desire to know. Meanwhile, Kyle's hand didn't hint at lifting from her thigh; in fact, he squeezed it at regular intervals.

"And I may have put a spider in his backpack."

The car the two of them were in swerved from lane to lane dangerously. Y/N was in shock. "So your plan is to give him a heart attack?" she yelled.

Kyle's eyes were filled with confusion. "I figured no one likes a coward."

"He's an arachnophobe, K! He could seriously have a heart attack!" she scolded him. "Call him right now and tell him."

"You want him to kill me?"

"Someone's going to die anyway, you better call him and sacrifice yourself!"

Kyle didn't have time to pick up the phone and call his friend that Matty's car pulled over to the right and the owner of it came screaming out of the car. He was scared out of his mind. Y/N also parked a little further away and covered her face with her hands. At least he wasn't dead from the scare yet. What she didn't see was how Francesca took the spider in her hands, obviously not poisonous, and carefully stroked it, and then released it into the tall grass. Both Matty and Francesca began to laugh at what had happened. They laughed so much that they sat on the ground and wiped their tears.

Meanwhile, the boy removed Y/N's hands from her face and showed her that scene. "Let's look on the bright side, Matty is still alive!" he tried to deflect the conversation.

If looks could have killed anyone, Kyle would have died instantly.

#3 (AND THE LAST) ATTEMPT

Music echoed through the walls of Rick Wyler's mansion. The night was young and all the kids who had been invited to Rick's older brother's birthday party had yet to arrive, Jack, Jake... something like that. What did high school kids have to do with a college kid's party? Absolutely nothing, but both of the Wyler brothers liked a party full of people and certainly, kids would never pass up an invitation to party with older people.

Y/N and Kyle weren't the party type, but Matty had invited them, and after being apart for quite some time, they weren’t going to turn him down. It had been a month or so since the spider incident and none of those involved had found out who had put the spider in the backpack. They had concluded that it must have gotten in during recess time in the yard, there was no other way. When Matty had told his two friends about what had happened, he had thankfully not noticed the girl's anger and the guilt in the boy's eyes, otherwise, he would have put two and two together and found out everything.

If the trio seemed to be getting closer and closer to breaking up, Y/N and Kyle were getting closer and closer. They had spent the last month in each other's company and those who saw them from the outside, including their mothers, would have sworn they were finally together. Clearly, that wasn't the case. Neither of them had been able to say their feelings out loud, but the way they moved had certainly changed. Kyle was always more careful when Y/N entered a room and always made sure to get into her bubble and Y/N, on the other hand, unconsciously always approached the boy. He to apologize to her for almost killing his other best friend had given her a bouquet of flowers every morning for a week. Each day the flowers were different and meant different things. Y/N had really enjoyed seeing the different meanings even though sometimes one flower could have a lot of them. Like roses. Roses also meant love, but that certainly wasn't the case with them. Right?

Even at the party, with a glass of spiked punch, the two of them were practically stuck together. Kyle was leaning with his back against the kitchen counter, absentmindedly listening to what some of his classmates were telling him, and Y/N was in front of him. Leaning against him. Her back against his chest. Her hair brushed against his body. No wonder Kyle was distracted. It was the first time they had been in that situation and it had all happened very naturally. Y/N had always thought that only patterns would help her get close to someone, but with Kyle everything was unpredictable, she couldn't calculate anything and she loved that. She didn't think about the consequences of her actions and let the wind show her what to do. She was never disappointed with the various outcomes.

But that night, they were there to risk it all. Kyle would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about the possibility of telling how he felt to Y/N that night, but they had promised themselves they would try one last time to save their friendship with Matty. If they didn't succeed, they would simply wait for Matty to completely pull away as they thought he would.

Y/N suddenly broke away from him. "It's showtime," she said as she watched Francesca make her way to the bathroom.

Before she could follow, Kyle wrapped his arm around her lower back and pulled her close one more time. He left a moist kiss on her cheek. "Come back victorious," he told her and then let her go.

Damn Kyle, now she wasn't focused at all.

The bathroom in Rick's house was gigantic, it looked like an airport public restroom. Rich people did the strangest things. What was the point of such a bathroom? Maybe it was useful during the parties the Wyler brothers had because then more people could go to the bathroom, throw up, and... nothing. They weren't doing anything anymore. Luckily, the bathroom was still scented. No one had gotten sick yet. It was the beginning of the night.

Y/N immediately caught a glimpse of Francesca's reddish hair. She was washing her hands and a bit of her face. She was visibly hot, something must have happened to make her blush because it was obvious from her look that something had happened to her. When her eyes met Y/N's from the bathroom mirror, she smiled with tight lips and nodded. She was in unfamiliar territory now; she didn't know what to do and her head was still at that kiss Kyle had given her. Damn Kyle.

"Y/N, right?" the other girl's voice was rougher and lower than she had imagined, but it had something sweet and friendly about it. "Y/N, Matty's friend?" she sounded more confident now, more like information than a question.

She nodded, "Yes, you're Francesca, aren't you?"

"Yes. I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh" Y/N hadn't expected that, after all they had never spoken to each other, what did she want from her? She had probably found out about what she and Kyle were trying to do and wanted to clear the air once and for all.

Francesca dried her hands. "I know this may sound weird, but I need some advice," she didn't wait for Y/N's response, but it was clear she could continue. "I know Matty is your friend and maybe you don't want to talk about these things...I really like him, but I don't know how to tell him."

She planned to tell her a lot of negative things about his friend, all the bad habits he had, the habit of smoking a cigarette every now and then, she wanted to tell her about how he cheated on almost every test and how many times he had run away from home to get something at the bar while underage. But Francesca's gaze was so lost and full of feelings that Y/N couldn't bring herself to tell her all those things. Instead, she empathized with her; after all, if they had said something negative to her about Kyle, her feelings wouldn't have changed. She cared about Kyle the way Francesca cared about Matty. She understood that now.

"Matty likes you more than you think. No need for anything elaborate, just tell him," she advised her with a smile on her face. "He's a simple person and very smart. I think he already knows how you feel about him" she winked at her.

Francesca tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and giggled. "I think so too, I can see it in his eyes" then she sighed. "Thank you, Y/N, that was the encouragement I needed. I hope you can confess your feelings to Kyle too" she waved goodbye to her and then walked out of the bathroom.

"Huh?" she too had managed to notice how she felt about the boy, only he had ham on his eyes.

Speaking of the boy, Kyle entered the bathroom with an inquisitive look on his face. "So?" he looked better than usual even though he was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans.

"I couldn't do it," Y/N confessed. "She's...so in love with him. We can't do this to him."

The boy let loose a smirk, as if he already knew what had happened in that bathroom despite not having been there, and shook his head. He walked over to her and took both of her hands between his, bringing them to his mouth and letting out a loud kiss. They both giggled. "This is why I like you."

"Huh?" again. "What?" she formulated her confusion.

"Didn't you notice?" he asked her rhetorically. It was so obvious she hadn't caught on. "You're such a knucklehead," he still had her hands in her and he brought them to hug him tightly. Instead, his hands wrapped around her face which had a completely entranced look on it. He smiled at her once more before printing her a tender and brief kiss.

They pulled away quickly, her eyes were still half-closed. "What are you doing, you finished already?" One of her hands quickly moved to the back of Kyle's head and drew him to her again. Her mom had always told her that when she kissed the right person, she would feel the fireworks. She didn't hear them, but she noticed that she couldn't hear anything anymore, neither the deafening noise of the music nor the chatter of the people outside. Was this love, then? Finding one's safe place in the world? Y/N's heart was pounding, her first kiss couldn't have been better. She felt her stomach full of butterflies and remembered the roses he had given her a few weeks before. He'd already declared himself then, in an implicit and unsure way. She smiled into the kiss when Kyle tried to bite her lower lip and make their tongues meet.

Matty, behind them, smiled contentedly and looked at Francesca. "Your plan worked."

#wiypt25daysofchrismas #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fluff #kyle the perfect score #jake wyler #christmas challenge #25 days of christmas #francesca #matty matthews #fluff

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

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Things You Said When You Were Scared- Prompt Fill

Bit of an au after the worm attack. Jon is having a rough time.

CWs injury (canon typical worm related), paranoia, exhaustion. nausea, vomiting (it's not gross, I promise), pain, dizziness, fainting, medication mention, canon typical quarantine mention, food mention.

@janekfan @sukurarose92

Jon can’t remember the last time he felt this terrible. There probably had been other times. A few terrible flus over the years, and getting almost eaten by a spider once upon a time…. but time has a tendency to dull the particularly bad stuff, aside from say, flashbacks and nightmares. But it’s the brain protecting itself. You don’t remember the pain. You don’t remember the fear. You remember the memory of the pain, wrapped in spun-sugar-strands of time, growing dusty on a shelf. You remember the taste of fear, the gripping anxiety of it. You remember surges of it in the depths of the night and you panic… but you can’t remember it all the time. That just isn’t how the brain works.

Which is irrelevant. All irrelevant, because the pain medication he’s been given is wearing off. He thinks Sasha and Tim went off to do something….? Probably panic together about the fresh worm trauma. Martin? Jon hasn’t the foggiest clue.

Possibly because he’s hazy with pain and the last of the drugs that have been keeping him going this long. Staggering into the walls as he tries to exit the institute. Eyes closing involuntarily against the pain and the exhaustion. Limbs feeling so alien between the bandages and the aching, weeping holes they hide beneath them. Pounding dizziness down to his core.

He aches.

Phantom itching-crawling-squirming on his skin, through his muscles, down to the bone. The actual holes chewed into him.

He isn’t sure how he’s going to get to his flat. He can’t stay in the Archives, not with the police in the tunnels and the ECDC still doing whatever it is they are doing. But the thought of taking a cab or the tube make him want to tear his remaining skin off. Makes him want to just lie down on the sidewalk.

He even thinks making it to the front doors will end him.

He’s dizzy and sick and his limbs won’t carry him.

He has to sit down on the first step outside the door, sticking his head between his knees. He can’t do this. He can’t. He’s just going to sit here all night, or risk passing out or throwing up or risking any other horror of the late twilight consuming him before he can collapse into unconsciousness in the comfort of his own bed.

He waits for the world to stop spinning, and tries not to cry.

Because he can’t have more pain medication until he eats something. He can’t eat anything because it won’t stay in him, and even if it would, he can’t go anywhere. He’s stuck. Less than a five minute walk from his office where Gertrude DIED, from where he was attacked where he thought he’d be Safe, where he thought Martin would be safe. A few paces from where the dead worms were pulled out of him and he was scoured raw and sterile in a hastily assembled quarantine on the sidewalk.

He tries not to spiral into a panic attack right here.

Trying to pull his breathing under control, because it isn’t helping his tenuous grasp on the directions of up and down.

Where is the next danger going to come from?

Is this when Mr. Spider will strike? Letting him go until he’s weak and exposed and alone?

Or is this where some unknown (or known) hostile comes in with a grand betrayal and a gun. Leaving him to be another mystery, or a willfully ignored casualty of something he can’t begin to understand?

“Jon?”

Jon jumps. And very, very much regrets it. Heart racing, head spinning, a fresh hurt. A fresh reminder of every opening in his flesh that doesn’t belong there. “Ma… Martin?” He asks around gasping and shuddering breaths. “What …are you doing here?”

His voice is a little distant, a little hallow. “Don’t really have anywhere to do, do I? You packed up my flat. All in boxes at some storage unit. Now, my bedroom is tangentially part of a crime scene.”

“…Right.” It’s all his fault.

He needs to sleep. He needs some painkillers. He might need to throw up, but that is an issue he plans to avoid, if at all possible. Ditto to fainting. Although that seems a little more inevitable.

Martin makes no move to continue speaking. “So… your plan was to just camp out on this bench?”

Martin shrugs. “Dunno. Figured I might call Tim? At some point? Or try to sneak back into the Archives once the police leave? Can’t really afford a hotel. Maybe just sleep on this bench. Try to decompress or something. Jon. Why are you still here? Said you’d go home hours ago.”

Well he can’t exactly tell Martin he’d passed out in the break room for some indeterminate measure of time, then spent another eternity getting sick in the toilets. And then possibly passed out again. That’s not just something you tell Martin and expect him not to fuss over you. And Jon tries to tell himself that that would be suffocating and not kind of welcome right now. He tells himself that the thought of spending more time with Martin brings discomfort, and irritation, and fear. It’s not like he can prove that Martin won’t kill him. But he’s too tired to think about that. He just wants to sleep.

“....Um?”

Martin looks at him, probably for the first time. “Jesus, Jon. You look terrible.”

Jon hmmms in agreement. Not like he can argue. Martin’s too nice to comment on the bandages. A little too tactful. Right? Martin’s bumbling and stupid, but he’s tactful. He’s Nice. As irritating as he can be, he’s just so Nice.

But, it’s not like he can argue. He’s covered in bandages and a clammy sweat and he’s halfway into a panic attack and he can’t really walk and he just wants to lay down right here until the world stops moving. Both in the sense that he’s dizzy and in the sense that things beyond his comprehension are happening at a pace he can’t begin to catch up with.

“Can I... call you a cab? Or... or something?”

Jon shakes his head as much as he dares, which isn’t much. No cabs. He gets carsick. He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Well you can’t just sit there all night.”

“Right, like you plan to?”

Martin looks away.

And Jon goes back to trying not to pass out.

“Tim lives close by, doesn’t he, I walk you there? Or… um… carry you?” Martin’s trying to be tactful. Jon is pretty sure that is supposed to be a pointed look at his legs.

Jon scowls. (Not that Martin is wrong. There is something very wrong with his knee.)

“Can’t just …intrude like that. I’m sure he doesn’t want me around. Not professional…”

“Jon, you saw him in his pants today. You were put in quarantine together. I think you’re past all normal working relationship boundaries, even if he wasn’t your friend. I can’t just leave you here, and you clearly aren’t planning to get yourself home. Besides… maybe if he takes you in… maybe he’ll take me in, too.”

Jon stares down at the sidewalk, drifting in lazy, nauseous, out of focus movements before his eyes. “He doesn’t want me around. Not after taking Sasha’s job. Not after making him stay to get his statement.” Jon whispers at the pavement.

“Yeah like he’s still jealous for Sash, after that creepy worm lady went specifically for the “Archivist.” Whatever the fuck that means. And you know Tim was only pissed because he was in pain and tired, like you are now!”

“I should just go home…”

“Yeah, but you won’t.”

Christ Martin’s stubborn.

“Now. Can you walk, or do I need to cary you?”

Jon tries pull himself up to prove a point, but he comes to in Martin’s arms a few moments later, Martin loudly cursing at him. He’s in too much pain to really hear what Martin is trying to say to him. And he’s feeling even more sick. And he wonders where his prescriptions and paramedic provided cane have gotten to, but he really doesn’t really care, because Martin is solid and warm and he’s so tired.

He wakes up again on Tim’s couch. Sick to his stomach from the oppressive oder of takeout.

“Woah, boss. Not on the couch. I’ve got you.”

Throwing up nothing into the bin that’s been hastily shoved in front of him even though he’s got nothing in him anymore. He sobs around dry heaves until it’s just the silence juddering sobs. He Hurts.

He wants to hide. From Martin who is making tea, from Sasha running a bandaged hand through his hair. From Tim supporting the bin, and Jon himself.

He curls in on himself. Wills himself into unconsciousness, but the injuries pulse with each uneven breath, stomach still roiling painfully. He needs more medicine, but he can’t think about hoping to keep it down.

He sobs against Tim, as the bin is pried away.

“‘Hurts. Tim ‘m scared.”

Scooped up. Held, gently.

“Why didn’t you head home? Why not go right away so you could get toast and water into you, and sleep until you could take some more meds?” Tim holding him. Martin awkwardly sat by his side with ginger tea. Which Jon doesn’t care for, but Tim hasn’t kept mint tea since Jon stopped visiting. Still… it should help. Sasha clearing away the food smells, bless her. “Why did you have to take our statements? I would have invited you back here, if you didn’t?”

That last question doesn’t help.

He doesn’t know he’s tearing at the bandages until Tim’s tugging his hands away, and Martin is bemoaning the splotches of blood now decorating the bandages that are quickly becoming sweaty and grimy. Couldn’t even stay clean after he was scrubbed sterile. Martin and Sasha and Tim are spotless and scoured.

“I… I don’t want to disappear. I… do-don’t want to be found in the tunnels. I don’t want to vanish without a trace, I…“ He doesn’t even know. He can’t breathe. He’s lightheaded. He Hurts.

“Hey… hey hey. It’s.. it’s okay to be scared. Why don’t we get you cleaned up, okay? Then see if we can get some saltines and tea into you so you can get some meds, eh? Then we’re gonna all get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to lose you…” Jon’s voice swallowed by Tim scooping him up. Martin hovering with the bin and Jon’s bag of medical supplies.

Sasha’s back by then, brushing back Jon’s curls. “And you won’t. Sooner you leave, the sooner we can all get some sleep, alright?”

Jon closes his eyes, and nods, letting Tim carry him to the washroom.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #timothy stoker #sahsa james #magnus pod #tma fic #cw injury #cw nausea #cw vomit #cw fainting #cw dizziness #cw medication #cw quarantine #my fic #my words #my art

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poptod · 3 years

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Pretty, Little Doll (Merriel Shelton x Reader)

Description: Merriel makes friends with the pretty little doll serving ice cream.

Notes: jus thinking about ice cream. implied female reader, but this.. is too much. theres just too much here. youve been warned. edit: wait no u havent. the warning is that theres suggestive themes and such WC: 2.3k

After working long hours in the broiling sun of the south, what felt best down his parched throat was a beer––a bar where many of his friends and coworkers drank at, and the waitresses wore low-cut dresses with short hems and long stockings. That sight went down wonderfully with several drinks, but what drew his attention today was a newly opened shop.

There was no sign, but the large, pristine windows gave a good view of the inside. Clean, white walls with several tables and chairs to the left, and a counter to order at on the right. Behind it stood you, dressed to the nines in ruffles and bows as you opened up the shop, displaying buckets of ice cream.

Merriel grinned. Lopsided and toothy, and he jogged inside, sweat and dirt still trailing down his skin and clothes. With his shirt slung over his bare shoulder, he met your eye and his cocky smile returned as his chin tilted high.

"Afternoon," he drawled as he approached the counter, barely grazing over the different flavors before returning to you.

"Good afternoon," you said in a much quieter voice, though you did mimic his smile, just more politely. "How may I help you?"

"You new here?" He asked, gesturing generally to the shop.

"Oh, yes," you said. "My grandmother always wanted an ice cream parlor, so.. I thought I could help her."

"That's awful sweet of ya," he said as he leant on the counter, tilting ever closer to you. "This ice cream sweet as you, boo?"

Your mouth fell open, eyes widening as you did a double take. For a moment you were at a loss for words, but you quickly attempted to stammer out a response, a blush burning your face.

"Well, um, we have, uh, strawberry, and um.. chocolate, vanilla, cherry, and uh, banana. And bourbon."

"Bourbon?" He said, a single brow kinked upwards.

"It's my grandma's favorite," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

"Damn, girl. Grandma knows how to have fun," he laughed.

"Would you like to try it?"

Only if I can lick it off you, he thought, his attention drifting to the soft skin of your neck. The thought of it melting down and pooling in your clavicle. While usually he didn't bother to censor himself for anyone, you seemed a little fainthearted. His chances with you would probably be ruined after one too-strange comment.

"Sure," was what he said instead. "Long as it's cold I don't care."

"I understand that. I moved here recently and it's certainly something to try and adapt to the heat," you rambled as you stuck a tiny plastic spoon in the bourbon ice cream, giving him the single bite. "Are you a local?"

"Been here long's I remember," he said, taking the spoon. "What time do ya get off today?"

"Oh, um," you fixed the ruffles on your collar, "I won't be finished till late. We're not all set up yet."

"If y' need some help, I'd be happy to offer my expertise. I do a hell of a lot a' nailin' things ta the wall."

You stared at him again, once more losing your words. He hadn't quite meant what he said, but the fluster he left you in had him grinning, humored by the connotation you'd incorrectly understood.

"That – that'd be very nice of you," you said, wringing your hands. "I don't want to bother you. You look.. busy."

He didn't miss how your eyes raked up his body, from his wrinkled, dusty pants up his bare waist and chest still gleaming with the sweat of morning work. His jaw could cut hearts and he knew that very well; accented it whenever he could as he cocked his chin upwards, watching carefully as your breath froze.

"I won't be busy tonight. How 'bout this." He walked up right to the counter, pressing his hips into the edge of it. "I come after I finish up ma' own job, and I'll give ya' a hand. Don't even gotta pay me."

"Really? But –"

"Don't worry 'bout it. 'S nothin' for a pretty doll like you."

"At least let me get you a cone? It's hot out today," you offered, reaching for the largest waffle cones you had.

The guys wouldn't really take well to him eating ice cream instead of drinking, but he figured they'd eat their words when they saw you.

"Won't say no to that."

As much as he wanted to boast about you, how pretty and sweet you were and how he so easily slid his way into your life, he didn't want his friends finding your shop and vandalizing it with their own dirty boots and flirtatious looks. Only he could do that.

In the evening he returned as promised, having walked from his house on the outskirts of town to your shop on the main street. The build, decorum, and location of the shop screamed rich family to him. No one in his state would be able to afford a business on main street, much less fully renovated and repainted. He could ask you, he decided, about your family, your grandmother, and of course you.

Inside, you were closing up the tubs of ice cream, hauling them out of the display case and into a back storage room. He knocked before he entered, earning a muffled 'come in!' from you.

Before either of you could speak, both the buckets in your arms began to slip, and he ran round to the other side of the counter to help. He took one from you to ease the load.

"Careful, cher," he said, grabbing another bucket in his other arm. "Don't wanna break yaself."

"Thank you," you said, mostly ignoring his comment. "My grandma is in the other room, so just, um.. be polite and proper."

Fat fuckin' chance, he thought in his head, but fortunately did not say aloud as he followed you.

The door swung open into a freezer room, where an old lady stood in the corner, covered head to toe in coats as she stirred.

"I keep telling you to let me do that," you sighed, setting down your container before rushing to her side.

"I can do it quite well myself. I'm not useless, you know," your grandmother said, staring you down with a glare. You hesitated, gauging her carefully, before you relented with another exasperated sigh.

"Fine, alright," you said quietly. "I'll go work on hanging up all the paintings and such."

"Thank you, dear."

You motioned to him as you passed by, pushing open the door and heading out of the freezer. He once again followed you, watching your ass with a grin you never saw.

"We need to hang up these," you said as you brought him to one of the circular tables, each of which carried a small pile of paintings, license plates, or tin posters.

"You got a ladder?" He asked, glancing to the high walls.

"Yes sir," you said, sorting through the different posters. He quirked a brow, intrigued by the possibility of that nickname.

"I neva did get ya name," he said as he leant on one of the tables.

"(Y/N). What's yours?"

"Pretty name for a pretty doll," he half sung, the same, one-sided smile stretched lazily across his face. "My name's Merriel."

"Also a pretty name," you said, picking the largest poster to start with. A pin-up girl in a sailor's suit. "Our ladder isn't all that steady. Will you hold it for me?"

He opened his mouth to offer himself up, but with one look to the ruffled skirt you wore, he shut himself up.

"'Course," was what he said instead.

Everything was a bit of a game––one you were unwittingly a part of, and one where you played your role rather well. A sweet, unassuming little thing, essentially a toy for him, accepting his help and letting him in. He hated to act the predator, but when it came to you he couldn't help it.

That was how he saw it. Hunting you down and taking you for his own at the end of a long chase. However, to any outsider, it appeared in a much simpler way; a young man doing anything for someone he'd developed a crush on. That was how it truly was, though the innocence of his crush was abruptly stripped away as he held the ladder, staring shamelessly up your skirt.

"Merriel?"

"Huh?" He said, broken out of his dreamy trance.

"I said could you hand me another nail," you said, pointing towards the package of nails with your hammer.

"Oh. You sure ya ain't gonna fall if I leave?" He asked with a grin. You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'll be alright."

"If you say so, boo."

After a little while he supposed he ought to offer some more help than holding a rickety ladder, and took your place at the top with a hammer in his hand and nails in his mouth. As promised, his experience with nailing things to the wall (nails specifically, not women) made him much faster than you, and the entirety of the wall behind the counter was covered within fifty minutes.

"Thank you for your help, again," you said as you put away the hammer and nails.

"My pleasure," he said, the image of your thighs still fresh in his mind. "If y' ever need help.. I'm happy t' to be of service."

"Well, thank you. Come stop by again soon. On the house," you said as he left, peeking your head out the door and giggling.

"You know I'm stoppin' by again, get two things done in one trip. Some'in sweet for th' eyes and the tongue," he laughed, watching your face light up with a blush.

And it ain't just the ice cream, he thought.

Over the course of the coming summer, he left drinking for the evening, and instead visited your shop over his lunch break. You insisted on giving his cones for free considering he continued to help you out, but he usually found ways to sneak you the money anyway. You were not, as he assumed earlier, a very rich family.

His favorite activity, which he found rather early on, was to sit outside on burning hot days, his shirt draped over the back of his chair as he ate. Through the pristine glass, he spied you watching him often.

You couldn't help it either. Most of your life was spent in your family cabin, cutting you off from many teen and early adulthood experiences. People flirting with you was a lot to deal with, especially when it came from someone as pretty as him, the smooth dips and ripples of his lean muscles shining with sweat and dirt from his construction site.

His tongue. Ever since he made that comment on that first evening you met, you hadn't been able to get it out of your mind. How it rolled and drawled between his puffy lips drawn backwards with his teeth, in a very specific method you'd pinned down to 'the Tongue Thing'.

Your heated, embarrassed blush only worsened as ice cream dripped down his fingers from the heat, cleaned up by a sharp and precise tongue. You could hardly breathe watching him like that, but as he caught your eye you turned quickly away.

His bravado had clearly earned a huge boost from catching you mid-drool, prevalent in his step as he waltzed back into your store. You hardly met his eye, pretending to clean up the counter, but that didn't stop him. He walked right up to you, leaning down with his elbows on the stone, forcing you to stop and look at him, which you did with incredible reluctance.

"You been watchin' me, cher?" He asked, close enough to see his reflection in your wide eyes.

"No," you said quietly.

"A' think you're lyin'," he said, leaning in closer yet. "Betta' not do that. Could land you in some trouble."

You raised your brows.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not with anythin' ya can't take," he said as he raked his eyes purposefully slow down your body. When you appeared to be at a loss for words, he said, "I'll ask ya again. Were you watching me?"

"... and if I don't answer?" You tested carefully.

"Well then, I think there's too much space between us," he said, grinning cockily as he jumped the counter, crowding you suddenly.

You drew in a sharp breath, backing up as he continued to step forwards till he pinned you to the wall with his hips.

"Tell the truth, baby." he drawled, carefully setting his hands on your hips and pulling you in. Something hard poked you.

"I – I wasn't staring, I –"

He half-grinded into you, pressing you tighter against the wall as his hands drew upwards, resting at your waist.

"Such a pretty thing," he mumbled beneath his breath, watching your stumbling reaction closely.

By pinning you with his hips, he had free roam to move his hands, one of which toyed with the hem of your skirt. It was wrong, certainly, and it was also illegal since you were in plain view of main street, but he lost control the minute his fingertips brushed the soft, supple skin of your thigh.

Your breathing hastened, hips yearning for something, though you didn't know what. When the rough skin of his fingers suddenly brushed inbetween your thighs your hands shot up to steady yourself on Merriel's shoulders. He laughed, running a finger through your lips, finding you already soaked and not wearing underwear. Instantly his laugh faded, devolving into a long, needy moan as his hips once more pushed up into you.

"Th – there's someone – someone coming," you said, eyes darting to the front door.

Immediately he was off you, stepping to the side as you straightened yourself out. You walked forward with shaky legs, which he most definitely noticed, and took the mother and son's orders as usual. When you finished you glanced to him, your heart stopping at the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers.

"I guess your ice cream is as sweet as you, boo," he murmured in your ear, giving you no chance to react before rushing back out to return to his construction job.

#snafu x reader #merriel snafu shelton #the pacific hbo #rami malek #rami malek character

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lotusss-flowerbomb · 4 years

Text

My Hero

Clark Kent x reader

Warnings: Smut

Disclaimer: There is unprotected sex in this story, so remember a condom a day keeps them babies away!

*divider by @writeyourmindaway*

Word Count: 2,302

********

You were pushing your cart through the grocery store and scanning the many items you knew that you didn't need.

"This is why we never shop on an empty stomach," you said to yourself.

When you reached the end of the aisle your cart hit a man's legs.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

"It's okay, I'm fine," a small laugh escaped his lips. "Y/N?"

You finally looked up at him, "Yes?"

"Wow, I thought that was your voice that I'd heard."

"My voice?" You asked, confused.

Blue eyes, wide grin, deep dimple in his chin.

"Clark?" Your eyes were wide with realization.

"It's me," he said.

"No way, look at you," you scanned him from head to toe. "You've come a long way from the scrawny kid who I used to walk home with from school."

You threw your arms around his neck for a hug and quickly pulled away. You would swear that you could feel every muscle in his rock hard body.

"So, uh, when did you get back in town?" He asked.

"Few days ago. My dad retired and moved to California. He's left getting rid of the house, to me of course."

"I'm surprised he left. He loved that house."

"Yeah, well, he says he needed a change since my mom passed away, but I think this Superman guy just freaks him out a little bit," you shrugged.

"Understandable," he replied.

"Well, um, how about you come over for dinner tonight, so we can really catch up?" You suggested.

"Oh, no, I couldn't impose."

"Why not? You got big plans for those TV dinners?"

He looked down at the four Hungry Man meals he was holding.

"That's what I thought. I'll see you at 8pm, Kent." You pushed your cart forward to the checkout line.

He watched as you walked away. Willing himself not to use his x-ray vision to look through your clothes.

Clark showered quickly when he got home. He looked through his closet and cursed himself. How many flannel shirts does one man need? He settled on a blue and gray shirt and pulled it on.

"Where are you going?" Martha questioned him.

"Uh, you'll never guess who I ran into today. You remember Y/N?" He asked his mother.

"Of course, I do. How could I ever forget the sweet girl who walked my baby home everyday to save him from bullies?" She patted his cheek and laughed.

"Funny," he mocked her. "She invited me over for dinner tonight, so I needed to change."

"Oh, well, that's good. You haven't been out since, um... ever."

"Ma, it's really just old friends catching up. It's not a date."

At least, that's what he'd said out loud, but his racing heart was telling a different story. Martha raised an eyebrow and turned to leave. She didn't need enhanced senses to know her son was telling a lie.

Clark thought back to the day the two of you had become friends. He was a grade ahead of you, so you never really spoke until...

You trailed behind the crowd a bit, as always, with your black Cane Corso, Tiny in tow. He was massive, so his name definitely didn't match, but when he was just a puppy, he was so tiny that you carried him zipped up in your hoodie wherever you went.

Every day, Tiny would come to the school and sit with the parents waiting to pick up their kids. Even though he was huge, he was a sweetie and everyone loved him, so no one ever complained about him running around alone.

When the group ahead of you reached the junkyard. You heard Jessie, the school bully, telling Clark to get out of the truck. Once you reached the yard, you saw Jessie throw Clark to the ground and raise his fist as if he was gonna hit him.

"Come on, fight back! Get up, Kent!" He yelled at him.

"Why don't you leave him alone, Jessie? He doesn't want to fight." You said from behind them.

They all turned to look at you.

"Hey, stay out of it and mind your business!" He pointed at you.

"Make me," you said.

Tiny growled and crouched low to the ground when Jessie took a step towards you. You stayed in your spot as he slowly walked towards the other kids and came to a stop right in front of Clark.

The group backed away slowly with their hands lifted in surrender.

"I don't want to see any of you bothering him again, got it?" You asked.

"Y-y-y-yeah. Yeah, I got it. Just call him off."

"It's okay, Tiny, let them go," you walked closer to your dog.

He was almost as tall as you were sitting on his haunches.

You made a hand motion for them to go and they all practically ran away. You turned to help Clark off the ground and brushed some dirt off of him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," he said softly.

Mr. Kent made his way over to the two of you. Tiny wagged happily and waited for a few pets from the older man. He ran off plenty of times to the Kent's farm to play with their dog Hank. Plus, he and your father had known one another since childhood.

"I'm not sure how you resisted the urge to break his face, but good for you," you said before waving at Mr. Kent and telling Tiny to come along.

From that day forward, you and Clark had been inseparable. He'd walk you home and then head to the farm.

You'd developed a crush on him as the years went by, but never spoke up about it, because you learned very early that nothing was worse than losing your best friend over a failed relationship.

Besides, once he graduated, he took oddest jobs doing manual labor. It caused him to be gone for months at a time and you knew that wasn't a life you wanted, so after you graduated, you went out of state to college in Metropolis and got a job there.

Clark clutched the bottle of wine in his hand as he knocked on the door. He couldn't understand why he was so nervous. He'd been to this house dozens of times.

"Hey," you greeted him when you opened the door.

"I brought wine," he held up the bottle.

"Thanks, the food is almost ready, so have a seat and I'll be right back." You hurried off.

Once the two of you sat down for dinner you laughed and talked as if you had never parted ways. He was still the same old goofy Clark Kent that you remembered.

You were now on the couch with your legs comfortably tucked behind you and staring into his eyes.

"What?" He asked nervously.

"Nothing, it's just been so long since I've seen that smile. I'm enjoying it."

His face turned red as he blushed at your compliment.

"I do have a question. Something that's been bugging me all day," you scooted closer.

"What's wrong?"

"You never wore glasses when we were growing up. In fact, you could see so far down the road that I thought you placed things just to be funny."

"What? No, I... um, I had an accident on a job site. There was fire and I was a little close. Messed with my eyesight a little...bit." He stammered over his words.

"You always were such a terrible liar, but I'll let it slide, because you're cute." You sipped from your glass.

"You think I'm cute?" He asked, shocked.

"Yes, I always have," you admitted.

"Really? Why haven't you ever told me that?"

"Oh, please, Clark, like you didn't know that I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids," you rolled your eyes.

"No... Well, I — uh... didn't know for sure."

"Mmm hmm," you straddled his lap. "I know you can hear the way my heart beats faster any time I'm near you." You grabbed his hand and pressed it to your chest.

He shifted beneath you. No doubt trying to will himself not to get an erection.

You swivel your hips ever so slightly. To a normal man, that would have been nothing. But to Clark, it was damn near a sensory overload.

He threw his head back and clamped his eyes shut.

"I know that you know how wet I am for you right now," you lifted your dress and dipped your fingers inside of your panties, swirling your wetness around with your fingers.

He was no longer able to contain his erection.

"Look at me," you said.

He opened his eyes and looked at you. You brushed one of your slick coated fingers over his lips before kissing him softly.

"What are you doing?" He was finally able to ask.

"Whatever I want," you said and slid his glasses off of his face.

He looked nervous. You may recognize him without his glasses, so he quickly kissed you.

You trailed soft kisses from his neck to his ear. Biting the lobe once you reached it.

The soft sigh that he released turned you on even more as you grinded into him again.

He shifted his position, so he could lie you flat on your back.

"Can I taste you?" He asks.

He didn't wait for you to reply. He pulled your already soaked panties to the side and licked at your center.

"Ssss, ooh," you hissed.

You threaded your fingers into his hair and grabbed on to those jet black curls. Rocking your hips slowly as he alternated between licking your clit and sucking it into his mouth.

First you felt one finger slide inside of you and shortly after another followed.

"Yes, baby, don't stop," you moaned.

Clark watched your face as he pleasured you. The way you bit your bottom lip and gripped his hair forced him to buck against the couch cushions for a bit of relief.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm neared, but felt your body being lifted and turned. Before you could grasp what was happening, Clark was now on his back and you were riding his face.

You grabbed on to the arm of the couch and placed one foot on the floor and the other by his head.

"Stick your tongue out," you instructed.

When he stuck his tongue out, you lined it up with your needy cavern and let him fuck you with it. You used your other hand to rub your clit and once again your orgasm was nearing.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You chanted as the familiar feeling washed over your body.

Once again, he readjusted you as if you weighed nothing, bringing you face to face with him. You kissed him again. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues connected.

"Fuck me, Clark, please?" You asked as you unbuttoned his pants and wrapped your hand around his thick throbbing shaft.

He groaned loudly as you stroked him. When you were about to lower yourself onto him he stopped you.

"Wait, I," he cleared his throat, "I've never actually, um, gone all the way..." He admitted.

"I find that very hard to believe with the way you just ate my pussy."

"I learned from... ya know..."

"Good," you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Making sure to keep eye contact as he stretched you wide. "I'm sure you learned how this goes too."

He held on to your hips as you bounced up and down on him. Then he grabbed up the fabric of your dress and ripped it. Kissing the newly exposed globes of your breasts.

He turned you on your back. Lifting your leg high and pushing himself deep into your pussy. Giving you everything that he had.

He tucked his face into your neck as he fucked you.

"Yeah, that's it. Give me that dick, baby," you whispered.

"You feel so good," he groaned.

The closer he got to ecstasy, the more vocal he became.

"Shit!"

"It's okay baby. Give me all that cum. Can I have it?" You asked sweetly.

"Yes!"

"Mmm, yesssss," you clawed at his back as you started cumming. Your pussy tightening around him.

His body started to spasm as he released his load inside of you.

You held on tight until he stopped moving and you loosened your grip. It was only then that you noticed that you were floating in mid air.

"Clark!" You yelped and grabbed onto him again.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I've got you," he slowly lowered your bodies back down to the sofa.

He pulled out slowly and laid his head in between your breasts taking in the moment. You twirled one of his curls around your finger.

You felt his body suddenly start shaking from laughter.

"What's so funny, Kent?" You asked.

"You just had sex with the kid that you used to protect from bullies. You were my hero,” he said.

"No, I just had sex with the grown man that saves planets."

"So, how long have you known?" He questioned.

"Since the moment I first saw you on TV," you replied.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't already known, you recognizing my voice from the other aisle when I clearly whispered to myself would've been a dead giveaway."

"Not to mention the whole flying thing just now," he added.

"Exactly," you giggled.

You finally got up before ruining the couch and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bathroom. He looked a little confused at first.

"Surely, you have at least one more round in you, Superman?" You teased.

"I've got as many rounds as you can take," he lifted you and walked up the stairs to the bathroom.

#Clark Kent x reader #Superman x reader #Smut #dc #Clark Kent #Superman #dc smut

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truckloadoffrogs · 3 years

Note

SamBucky runaway groom? 👀Bucky is the groom and he doesn’t want to get married with whoever it is and Sam pulls up to take him away and they ride off into the sunset together

Ooh cute! I like it. I hope I did it justice!

(tw: cheating)

—

Bucky watched the low light of the bar glance off his half-empty beer bottle as he twisted it in his hand. What the fuck was he doing here? He was supposed to get married to Brock tomorrow, to the love of his life, and here he was, sitting by himself at a sticky, dark bar, regretting every decision he ever made.

He brought the bottle back up to his lips and took a long sip. Maybe if he was plastered it would be easier to go to sleep knowing that this time tomorrow he would be married.

He was sure Steve was looking for him. Steve took his best-man duties very seriously, especially considering he hated Brock. With a passion.

The first time Steve met Brock, Bucky had been dating him for almost three months. Brock was hurt Bucky waited that long to introduce him, and told him that often, but Bucky honestly was worried about Steve’s reaction. That should have been his first clue.

Brock was just a bit— what’s the word? Crass. He wasn’t outright rude or anything, but he would just say things that would have made Bucky’s Ma give him a sharp look, then ask what he said his parents did, dear?

Needless to say, Brock and Steve very much did not hit it off. Dinner was very awkward, Steve glaring daggers at Brock and Brock glaring daggers at Steve and Bucky trying in vain to lighten the mood. This happened any time the three of them got together, and eventually Bucky gave up, and decided to have two separate lives: one with Steve and one with Brock.

For the next year, Bucky tried to rationalize his relationship with Brock. Brock was just honest, he didn’t have much of a filter but he wasn’t a bad guy, he obviously loved Bucky very much, et cetera, et cetera.

When Brock proposed, Bucky said yes because he thought he had to. He had never been in love before he met Brock, and this is what love felt like, right? If you love someone you have to lock them down, right?

But now here he was, the night before his wedding, alone and depressed.

Someone next to him ordered a beer. Looking over was automatic, and it was no sooner than had he turned his head that Bucky saw possibly the most attractive man he had ever seen in his life.

A grin was parting his lips, showing a charming gap between his two front teeth, and his mouth was framed by a neat goatee. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes were dancing with mirth at something someone on the other side of the room said as he looked over his shoulder, and oh my god he was big enough to hold Bucky down while he slowly pushed into him--

Bucky cleared his throat as he turned back to face the bar. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't thirst over some stranger the night before his fucking wedding! Bucky groaned and dropped his head to the sticky bar top. He grimaced in distaste, but didn't have the energy to lift his head back up again.

"Hey man, you good?" The man next to him asked.

Bucky rolled his forehead around until he was looking at the man. The man's beautiful eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and his beautiful lips were in a gentle smile, and his big, beautiful body was turned towards him so Bucky could see his beautiful chest straining the turtleneck he was wearing... God. Maybe Bucky was already plastered.

He remembered that the man had asked him a question, so he nodded, blinked slowly, and rolled his head back so he was looking at the bar-top again instead of this Adonis.

"Yup. I'm fantastic," Bucky mumbled, "Absolutely fantastic."

"What's that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your very obvious misery seeping out of you."

Despite himself, Bucky chuckled. He lifted his head and rubbed at his forehead, trying and failing to get whatever was making the bar sticky off of his skin.

"Yeah, I'm good," he repeated. Holding out his right hand, he introduced himself, "Bucky."

"Sam," the man-- Sam-- said as he shook hands with him. "What kinda name is 'Bucky'?"

Bucky laughs and shakes his head self-deprecatingly. "My real name is James, but there were, like, four other James's in my grade in elementary school so I went by my middle name, Buchanan."

"No fucking way you're named after a president!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Bucky giggled (giggled?? who was he? a middle school girl?), "And anyway, isn't it worse to immediately know that I have the same name as a president? Nerd."

Sam let out a bright bark of laughter, and shoved Bucky's shoulder. "Man, shut up."

Sam's fingers caressed Bucky's arm as his hand dropped, and Bucky could almost feel the tension between them, sparkling like static electricity. Bucky watched Sam's hand drop back to the bar, then looked up at Sam, making eye contact with him. Bucky's smile shrank slightly when he realized he had never felt this kind of chemistry with someone before, and he had only met Sam maybe three minutes ago. He looked back at his beer bottle.

Clearing his throat, Sam said, "So you never did say why you're sitting here alone being all sad."

"Uhm, I'm gettin' married tomorrow." He let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh." Sam looked disappointed. Maybe he felt the same chemistry Bucky did. "Wait, why are you here, then?"

"I just realized that I'm pretty sure I don't love him," Bucky mumbled, "Which is a shit way of ringing in a wedding." He refused to look up at Sam, not wanting to see his reaction.

"Well at least you figured it out now, right? Instead of months or years later."

Bucky looked up at Sam, surprised. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

Sam smiled. "Hey, if you know, you know."

Bucky felt caught in Sam's gaze, he wasn't able to look away. Is this what love felt like?

The past year flashed by before Bucky's eyes. When had he ever been excited about a text from Brock? When had Brock actually made him feel good, feel loved, feel cared for? Did he really want to spend the rest of his life with someone he couldn't even bring home to Steve?

"I gotta," He stood up so quickly his stool tipped backwards, and clattered loudly on the ground behind him. "I gotta call off a wedding--"

Mouth open in shock, Sam watched as Bucky backed up out of the bar.

"Wait here for me?" Bucky called to him, before turning around and bursting out onto the street.

He sprinted down the block to the hotel the wedding party was staying at, and suddenly slammed into a body coming the other direction, both of them falling to the ground.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorr-- Steve! Thank god I found you!" He stumbled to standing, holding out a hand for a bewildered Steve to do the same.

"Bucky what the hell--"

"We have to call off the wedding, Steve!" Bucky gasped, still holding onto Steve's hand. Steve gaped.

"What?"

"Yeah, I met Sam at the bar and he’s beautiful and I figured out that I don't love Brock at all and I have to break up with him before I get stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life!"

He tugged on Steve's hand, forcing him into a run towards the hotel.

"Sam? Who the hell is Sa--"

"Never mind that, Steve!" Bucky yelled.

Panting, Steve yelled back, "Well I can't say I'm not happy about it!" He flashed a grin at Bucky. "I never liked him!"

Bucky laughed, giddy with relief. He had no idea how much the prospect of a life with Brock had been weighing on him until it was gone. "You'll like Sam!"

They burst into the hotel lobby, parting people like the Red Sea as they ran to the elevators. Jabbing the button Brock's floor's button frantically, Bucky bounced on his feet.

"Oh shit!" He suddenly realized something and turned to Steve, "I have no idea what to say to Brock!"

"I'm not the one who has to break up with him, this is your call."

The elevator doors opened, and Bucky hesitated. "Am I making the right decision, Steve?" he asked quietly.

"Bucky, these past ten minutes have been the happiest I've seen you in months," Steve responded gently, throwing out an arm when the elevator doors began to close again.

Bucky took a deep breath, and stepped out of the elevator, leaving Steve inside. He began to walk to Brock's hotel room, shaking his hands where they hung by his side. Once he got to the right door, he stopped, let out an explosive breath, and knocked on the door.

"Just a min'!" came a harried yell from inside. After a beat, the door swung open to reveal Brock, wearing low-slung sweatpants and no shirt, damp with sweat. Brock's eyes widened with panic, and he reflexively looked behind him where a rumbled bed was able to be seen, complete with a naked woman who quickly pulled up the sheet to cover her breasts.

Bucky let out a loud laugh. "Thank god! Now I don't feel bad about breaking up with you!" He turned on his heel, and threw Brock the middle finger over his shoulder, "We're through!"

His cheeks ached with how big his grin was. Thank god. Right before he reached the elevators again, he glanced behind him to see a dumbfounded Brock standing in the hallway.

"You're paying for the whole wedding, dickwad!" Bucky yelled as the elevator arrived. He stepped inside, not sparing Brock another look.

The elevator doors closed, and Bucky laughed with delight, leaning against the wall. Holy shit. Once the elevator arrived at the lobby again he walked out to Steve, who looked up from a magazine when he heard Bucky arrive.

"He was cheating on me!" Bucky said with a huge grin. "I'm going back to the bar. I'll see you in the morning?"

Steve nodded dazedly as Bucky turned around to leave the building.

"Wait!" Steve said, causing Bucky to turn around, "You're okay?"

"Never been better, Stevie."

He hummed tunelessly as he walked down the block. He hoped Sam was still there.

When he pulled open the door to the bar, the gentle hum of people talking rushed out. He scanned his eyes around the room, before walking up to Sam, who was still sitting at the bar. Tapping on his shoulder, Bucky held out his hand when Sam turned around.

"Bucky, newly single. Can I buy you a drink?"

let me know what y'all think!

#sambucky #runaway groom au #froggie writes #asks #steveng-rogers #fic #winterfalcon

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cheyningdiamond · 3 years

Text

Nightmarish Trip

TW// Drugs, Angst, Suggestive Mentions, Death, Alcohol Pls do not read if you're easily upset over things like this. Viewer discretion is advised.

It was a hot night out in Nevada. In the bunker, Dallas remained to himself while Roxxie and the rest of the crew were out gathering supplies. The gang knew Dallas wasn’t feeling so well and ushered him to stay put and rest. Dallas however wasn’t pleased with this outcome. He oh so desperately hated being alone… With a heart aching sigh, Dallas decided to sit up and reach under his bed. He pulled out a familiar glass object. Staring down at the pipe, Dallas pulls out a lighter. It probably wasn’t the best thing for him to do, but hey, whatever it took for him to feel less shitty, right? With a few puffs, Dallas set it down on the nightstand next to him and laid back. The demon’s eyelids grew slightly heavy as he watched the world around him spin and change. He felt a bit sick to his stomach. Probably should’ve checked what he was smoking first… He reached his hand up to try and touch the swirling objects around him. They grew bright in color and Dallas’ hand plummeted down to his side as his eyes closed. When he woke up, he was sitting outside. Things seemed strange though. The area he was in… This wasn’t Nevada. The sidewalk he sat on was paved with a reddish-gray color and the skies were more orange-red then they were a deep, dark red. That’s when Dallas realized something. This wasn’t Nevada. This was Hell. He looked down at his feet, seeing the puddle underneath them. It rippled, showing himself in a normal red flannel shirt and jeans. The golden hoop clip-on rings on his horns shimmered in the Hellish lighting. “I-I haven’t seen this shitty outfit in forever…” He mumbled. The puddle rippled more and slowly, he saw two figures behind him. Defensively, Dallas reeled around, only to find a demon with long pink hair and a pink dress, and another demon with black hair and only black jeans. The incubus blinked a few times, staring. “R-Rocks? Diesel??” The pink haired demon smiled and walked closer, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t sweat it. You got us, yeah?” The muscular one spoke up. “Yeah! Forget what that asshole told you. Honestly, You deserve way better than him…” “Him?” He gently took Roxxie’s hand off his shoulder. “Okay, who the fuck is him?? What are you two talking about?” Just then, Dallas was suddenly reeled back by his arms and forced against the wall, shutting his eyes from the impact.. When he opened his eyes, they grew almost as big as tennis balls at the figure before him. The man had a snake-like tail and a devilish grin. He wore a stained white tank top and ripped jeans and held a bottle of alcohol in his hand. “S...Stripes…” Dallas shook his head. No, no no no, he needed out of here. Now! Dallas tried to run, but was grabbed and pulled back. “Augh- fuck! Let go, jackass!” He kicked at him, growling loudly. “Babe…” He spoke calmly, making Dallas shut his eyes tightly. He knew what he was gonna say next. “Fuck, don’t say it. Don’t say it…” He whispered. His blood boiled for just remembering this moment. “I think maybe we should split. You just aren't what I need in my life. I need a better ma…"

Dallas went to turn and slap him, but when he did, he saw Stripes lying on the floor. A chunk of his neck was ripped off and Dallas tasted copper in his mouth and felt a hot liquid dripping down his chin. He looked down at his bloodied lips and his eyes widened as parts of his ex’s flesh were in his mouth. Dallas spat it out, wiping his lips. He felt his body seething with rage, but he couldn’t force himself to attack anymore. Dallas heard sirens similar to screams outside of the house. Everything became hazy and changed around him once more. He came to, staring at his hands. They were handcuffed together and he saw that he was in an orange jumpsuit. He heard talk all around him and looked around. He was in a filled courtroom and he noticed Roxxie and Diesel in handcuffs as well. The bangs of the gavel ringed his ears and made him flinch. “Order! Order!!” Dallas looked up at the judge. Sitting in the witness stand next to the judge was the bitten and beaten corpse of Stripe. He just stood there, staring at Dallas. “Dallas Haze…” The judge’s voice made Dallas glance up at them fearfully. “You have created some terrible crimes, but none can overcome this… Murdering a man of our satanic forces here in Styx City.” “D-Demons can’t die, jackass… He should’ve came back by now! I was framed for him goin' missin'!!” “He had been missing for months now… Who knows what you did with his corpse, you sick bastard…” “I didn’t do shit-!” “ENOUGH!” Dallas flinched as a high-piercing sound rang in the incubus’ ears. “As punishment for your sinful acts, we, the court, have found that even Hell isn’t a fitting punishment… You and your little friend group here will be shot and sent to purgatory, where you will NEVER reunite again!” He slammed his gavel and Roxxie and Diesel panicked. “Dallas!” Roxxie screamed out, trying to run. She was grabbed by the guards and was dragged back. Diesel roared and kicked, hissing and struggling as the guards had mercilessly beaten him until he was unconscious to drag back. “Diesel! Roxxie!” He ran to try and help them, but was jumped and pinned down by the other guards. With a swift, hard punch to the face, Dallas woke up in the interrogation room. Before him was a woman with candy red skin and had a bow on her head. It was Halt… But- how? She was always stuck in the same body as Sloh and Goh… She looked at him with a saddened look on her face. “Dallas… At least tell us where the body is... “ “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I left his ass at the house!” She shook her head. “You know that ain’t true…” “I’m not lying, dammit!” Dallas barked. “Someone else got him ‘cuz it isn’t me!” Halt’s voice echoed within the cold, dark walls. “We gave you a chance, Dallas… You ruined everything for yourself.” The lightbulb above them blew out and Dallas’ vision returned with him being forced onto the ground with his hands tied to his back. He turned around to see the face of a familiar green demon staring down at him with a shotgun pointed at him. “G-Goh!?” He struggled, trying to break free. His body then suddenly froze as he stared up at the barrel of the weapon. With a roar and distorted voice, Goh snarls. “You dug your grave…” He cocked his gun.

“N O W L A Y I N I T …!!!” With a loud shot being fired, Dallas felt something heavy hit his face. With free hands, he brushed away what had been dirt. He frantically looked around and saw that he was in a deep, open grave. “Wh… Wha- Augh-!” Trying to stand, he was thrown back down by another pile of heavy dirt. He looked up and saw Sloh staring down at him coldly with a dirt-covered shovel in their hands. It was raining and storming now… “Sloh-!” He coughed up dirt that had fallen into his mouth. “No- Nonono this can’t be it…! No-!” He moved the dirt aside and tried to crawl up, scratching at the walls around him to try and escape. “Sloh, don’t…! I don’t deserve this…! I didn’t do anything…!” Sloh looked down at him. One singular yellow eye glowed in the night as a crack of lightning flashed behind them, showing the shadows of the figure’s body. With a cold and monotone voice, they spoke. “This is your fate, Dallas… You were a dead man from the start… You…” They pointed beside his grave, staring at the two other graves he had already buried. “And your friends…” Dallas’ eyes widened at that statement. Tears streamed down his face in horror. He wanted to scream, but he had no words. He stared in shock and his dirty body shook. His body was so cold... He felt so sick… Sloh had no remorse as they shoveled more and more dirt onto him as he screamed and pleaded and desperately tried to crawl out. The dirt covered his view and he was in total darkness. He felt his heart drop and heard it beating slower and slower. Finally, the beating stopped and there was total silence…

At the end of a dark tunnel, a light showed. Dallas’ feet felt like he was walking through wet concrete. He slowly walked towards the light and he could see that the bright white light engulfed his vision. Before him, he saw a familiar figure in a white lab coat standing facing away in the distance. Dallas felt all his stress slowly fade as Jeb stood there, staring off into the distance. “H-Holy shit… J-Jeb…!” He rushed after him, reaching a hand out. “Jeb- I don’t know what’s going on… We need to get the fuck out of here!”

The demon exclaimed, getting about a few feet closer before realizing something was wrong. “Jeb? Jebediah, come on! Christoff!” Jeb’s back suddenly arched all the way back with a sickening cracking noise. His usual red eyes dripping a black substance, as was his nose and mouth. Slowly, the skin on his face melted off, revealing a red skeleton. Just like he had found him ages ago during the war. “Sh-Shit…!!” Dallas backed away, terrified. “Goddammit, get me out of here…!!” He screamed, running away from the mangled figure. His heart raced as black fire spurted out of Jeb’s mouth. Dallas ran as shadows began filling the room he was in. He hit a wall and started to pound his fists against it. “Let me out…!” They got closer.

“Let me out…!”

And closer...

“LET ME OU-…!!!” Dallas’ scream was cut off as the shadows engulfed his entire body, leaving him in darkness once again. … ... ... With a familiar voice, and deep chuckle, dread filled his mind. “͔͇͚́Y͎̘̺͇̙o͈͙̘̞u͍̮̝̪’̸̞͔͍ṛ̨̱̟̪e̡̝̩ ͎͉̩̟̯̗̗ ̵̪͎̳̗ ͏N̴̺̻̗̭̼̬̬O͖̳̫̥̹̻̮T̲͔H̦I̴̯̳̠̮̼̺N҉̭̩͓̬G̹͖̬̝̝ ̹̜̹̟͖ ͉̤̕ ̖t̼o̷̘͙ ̛m̷̜̯̘e̠̪͍̤, ̩͕̜̘͎̫D͖̱̞̥a̡̬̪ḽ̛̬̘̱̮ͅl͎̼͙̖͔͇a̱̳̠̼̺̹̙͞s̀…̩͇̹̙̫̮͜”̨̯̬͉ͅͅ Dallas shot up with a gasp. Clutching his chest, he felt his heart nearly beat out of it. He looked around frantically with a throbbing headache. He was inside of his bedroom, half dressed with only black pajama bottoms on. He panted and shut his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He slowly glanced at the glass bong on his nightstand. A loud shattering sound was heard a few seconds later as the bong made contact with the wall near the door, breaking it instantly with the sheer force of the throw. He breathed heavily, staring down at the broken glass with anger. His hands shaking at the sight as he tried to process what had just happened… He closed his eyes and felt tears slowly running down his face. His head and body throbbed with pain and stress. Dallas pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his knees. Dallas wasn’t much of a prayer, but God. He prayed that Roxxie and the gang were safe out there in the hellish lands of Nevada.

#my fics #angst #tw drugs #dallas #diesel #roxxie #auditor #sloh #goh #halt #jebediah christoff #madness combat #i have been making nothing but sadness and i am sorrry-

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Incantation of Incineration

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Ok so this work is inspired by an INCREDIBLE fanart I've been blessed to see, do yourself a favor and check it out too - > https://twitter.com/NxngOna/status/1386048795595743239 Mwah, perfection Anyway, rating is M, so beware.

(It's also quickly cobbled together because its a heat-of-the-moment thing, so forgive me if you find mistakes :> I'm far from perfect.)

This had to work.

No, who was she kidding, this wouldn’t work.

It never did, no matter how hard Mikasa tried, how deeply she dug in the library, how much she searched on the internet. Magic was a myth, and it would never work, which saddened the goth girl to no end.

She was fascinated by the supernatural ever since she could remember, devouring magazines, tv-shows or books dedicated to the topic with unhealthy speed. Maybe she was a tiny bit obsessed, but that was okay. Her parents didn’t mind, as long as she kept her grades up, and because Mikasa was very bright that was not hard to achieve. In her free time she kept experimenting, she kept trying, she kept searching for a way to make it work.

To no avail.

No ritual worked. No spell changed anything. No incantation had any effect. Still, she wouldn’t give up. It carried her through high school and it stuck with her in college too. To Mikasa it didn’t matter that goth went out of style, that magic was a forgotten thing for all of her classmates. It was an ethereal thing, bigger than life, something that enhanced the mundane and boring existence.

And today, her faith was rewarded.

Mikasa was studying in a library by herself, having an exam coming up, when her session was interrupted. A small girl appeared, hair shadowing her eyes and an enigmatic smile on the youthful face.

“Hello,”, she said, “Do you like black magic?”

“I.. Uh…”, nervous, the goth pushed an unruly bang that escaped her pigtails behind one pierced ear, “Why do you ask?”

A frown entered her features when Mikasa realized that this was a college library, no place for a small girl.

“Wait, who are you? Where are your parents?”

The girl ignored all this, rudely.

“If you do like magic…”, she leaned closer, “Check the “Worlds Religions” section, the third row.”

“What are you talking about? H-hey!”

Not answering, the girl turned and walked away, disappearing between the bookshelves. Completely dumbfounded, Mikasa sat for a while, wondering what kind of strange experience this was. Honestly, she should ignore that. It was a child, probably making fun of her because of the way Mikasa dressed. It meant nothing.

Maybe.

Most likely.

But what if…

“Screw it.”, two words that fell from between the goth’s lips and she was putting her stuff back in the bag, throwing it over her shoulder, and walking towards the religion section.

Deftly, her fingers ran along the covers as she searched, taking care that none of her rings scratched the books. Third row, was it? Eyes sliding over one book and then the next, Mikasa felt an uneasiness in her stomach upon finding nothing. It was a joke then. The girl….

Here.

This book didn’t belong here. Sure, it had a cross on the front, but that was the only marking. No title, no text, no explanation, only black leather and silver cross imprinted into it. Looking left and right, Mikasa made sure that she’s alone before grabbing the book and opening it, eyes widening immediately.

There were spells scribbled on the pages, strange words that made sense to her only because of the life-long obsession with the occult. Not that Mikasa didn’t see books like these before, but none of the spells in those worked. Yet this one – it appeared so suddenly, and the girl was so mysterious…..

Biting her bottom lip, Mikasa quickly stuffed the book in her bag, leaving the library right after. Studying could wait, her pursuit of magic could not. Nobody noticed her little thievery, nobody called out for her, and when she was walking home, a new hope was blooming in Mikasa’s chest.

Turning the key in its lock, she wasn’t surprised to see that her parents weren’t home. They worked long hours, days sometimes, and Mikasa was used to being alone. Kicking off her heavy leather boots she beelined towards the bedroom, shutting the door after herself. Bag dumped at the foot of the bed, Mikasa pulled out the book and sat cross-legged on the floor, truly studying it.

There were so many spells in the book, so many rituals, it made her head swim. Some were amazing, some terrible, some made her shiver, and other gasp in excitement.

“No point in getting worked up over nothing.”, she calmed herself, “If none of these work….”

A test then, a trial run of one of these, to see if this was real or yet another hoax. Randomly opening the book, her grey eyes slid over the text, taking in the chosen pages.

“A demon summoning ritual.”, she read out loud.

Okay, fine.

It was a fairly basic spell, and Mikasa had everything required. Chalk to draw a pentagram on the floor. Candles in each corner of the star. In the middle, a small bowl waited for her offering. Mikasa kneeled above it, as described in the book, a knife in one hand. Going by the instructions, she was supposed to cut herself, deep enough to bleed. That was fine, but the placement of the required cut was strange. Not a hand, as she usually did, this one had to be on her face beneath the right eye.

Well, Mikasa was determined.

Reading from the book, she began the ritual. The strange words made no sense to her, but it wasn’t the first time that she chanted something without understanding what. The spell was long and tedious to pronounce, luckily she had plenty of experience with speaking tongue-twisting words. Higher and higher her voice climbed until it was the time for the climax of the ritual. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa dragged the knife over her face, catching a few drops of blood into the bowl. Planting it back in the middle of the pentagram, she waited with bated breath, waited and….

Nothing happened.

Satan damn it.

A wave of sadness washed over her as Mikasa sat back on her heels, clutching the book to her chest. This was her best shot by far, and it didn’t do anything. Maybe it was finally time to accept that black magic simply didn’t ex…

A sudden explosion followed by black and red smoke threw her and Mikasa landed on her back, knocking her head against the floor. Her vision was swimming, but she could see that someone was standing in the middle of the pentagram now, a tall figure that angled its head back, a breathy chuckle coming.

“Damn, it's good to breathe air again.”

That voice. That damn voice. So deep, it rumbled through her entire being, tingled some parts that Mikasa didn’t even know existed. Pushing herself up on the elbows, Mikasa was about to ask what is going on when the being looked straight at her.

And she was lost.

Those green eyes pierced her, went right through any sort of mental strength, and dug into the deepest parts of her being. Not even giving her time to think the being moved, fast as a shadow, and suddenly her body was covered by someone. Falling back from the sudden assault with a yelp, Mikasa turned on her hip, still clutching that stupid book to her chest. Fearfully, she raised her eyes and finally saw what the hell did she just summon.

It was a demon all right. A man no doubt, naked from the waist up but (luckily) wearing black pants with multiple leather belts. Nothing strange on his body, at least from what Mikasa saw, but his head was quite a different story. There were horns on the top of his head, black and curved. Strange markings ran down from his emerald eyes, a bit like cuts, heading down the cheeks. Studying it, studying him, Mikasa realized one thing.

Their faces were damn close.

“So you are the one who summoned me?”, the demon asked, a smug smile crossing his admittedly very handsome features, “A girl?”

Mikasa’s throat was dry, so dry that she couldn’t even answer, but the demon didn’t seem to mind. He was looking at her too, eyes roaming all over her face and a certain satisfaction appearing. A strange ringing sound to her left, and suddenly there was a hand touching her, sweeping away hair that fell into her eyes.

He had claws, she realized, claws and torn shackles at his wrists. And while the claws did look sharp his touch was gentle, not hurting her in the slightest.

“A pretty girl at that.”, the demon continued his monologue, “Very pretty…. Beautiful …”

There was hunger in his words now, a primal one that made Mikasa shiver. She had to do something, otherwise this demon would devour her. Gathering all her mental strength, she clutched the book tighter and spoke.

More like squeaked.

“I-I am y-your master now! You c-came because of my c-calling, that ma-makes you mine!”

“Is that so?”, the demon wasn’t bothered by these words in the slightest, more like pleased if she read his face correctly, “Tell me, beautiful…”

Closer, closer he moved and now their faces were practically touching.

“Do you feel in power?”

Unable to speak, Mikasa shook her head as her lips trembled in fear. A single tear rolled from her eye, realizing that while she may have conducted the ritual, she had no idea how to control the demon. Yet before the tear could splash against the floor the demon caught it, a gentle claw swiping across her slightly bleeding cheek.

“There is no need to cry, pretty girl, I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, you are way too beautiful for that, I wouldn’t dream of tainting that. And…”, his nostrils flared as he took a lungful, “you smell wonderful.”

His head dipped low and suddenly it was on Mikasa’s neck. Lips parted and sharp teeth grazed the skin, making her think that despite the earlier words he might still hurt her. Instead of pain a soft kiss was planted on her neck, forcing a gasp from her throat. That sound pleased the demon.

“W-What are you doing?”, Mikasa choked out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t expect me to come all this way from hell and want nothing in return….”, claws appeared again, this time on her upper thighs, dancing around the lace of her stockings, “There is an ocean of pleasure I could drown you in, my beauty, and I’m feeling generous tonight…”

Retreating from her neck the demon faced her again, the green eyes scorching with intensity.

“What do you say, mortal, want a taste?”

No! – her rational half screamed.

But…

He was so beautiful, so unreal, he was everything Mikasa dreamed about. Dark magic was real, it summoned a demon for her, one that was offering her pleasure. Those damn claws on her sensitive skin, the aftertaste of his lips on her neck, the delicious heat his body produced, pressed so close to her….

“Y-Yes.”, Mikasa found herself saying, unable to stop it, “I do.”

The smile that appeared on the demon’s lips, that was the epitome of smugness.

“Good.”

Without further ado, he crashed his lips into hers, finally kissing her. Mikasa was taken aback by this, head lolling back and jaw wrenched helplessly open. The demon’s tongue slipped into her mouth, abnormally long and dexterous, wrapping around her own in one slick motion. At the same time the claws moved, repositioning from her thighs to between them, pressing against her heat. Overcome at several places, Mikasa moaned out loud.

Black panties nudged aside, now the tip of the claw was teasing her wetness directly, building her frustration up. She couldn’t do anything, hands uselessly hanging on the side, the book cluttering on the floor. His tongue was everywhere in her mouth, taking it as its own home, even brushing against Mikasa’s throat. How long was that damn thing?

By the time he finally allowed her to breathe Mikasa was panting, eyes wide and cheeks boiling red. Observing the fruits of his labor, the demon noticed the blood still trickling down, his tongue sweeping out to lick at it.

“Delicious…”, he purred, gently caressing the tiny cut that was already healing, thanks to his tongue, “You taste wonderfully too.”

“P-Please…”, was all Mikasa could say, begging with her eyes more than with her words.

“Oh? Is there something you want?”, the rubbing grew even faster, forcing her to arch her hips and moan again.

“Please!”, she practically screamed, tilting her hips for a better angle.

Deciding that he had tortured her enough, the demon slipped a single finger inside her, exploring the fluttering walls. The penetration made her gasp wonderfully, eyes sliding shut from the intensity. She was tight, tighter than he expected, making him frown.

“I don’t think that I can go all the way with you tonight, my beauty.”, he sighed, “It would hurt you too much.”

Summoning a single braincell to work, Mikasa cracked an eye open.

“W-What?”

The demon’s answer was a grin.

“Not to worry, I have many more weapons at my disposal.”

A second claw joined the first one, scissoring her open, and Mikasa lost control of her voice. With her mouth occupied by frantic breathing, the demon attacked the neck again, biting into the skin. She was so pale and colored beautifully beneath his teeth, and he chuckled inwardly imagining all the bruises that were sure to bloom on her.

There were wet sounds in the room, squelching as he fingered her, her body being such an amazingly reacting toy. Pulling his fingers out, the demon admired the trail of wetness that connected them to her twitching womanhood. Mikasa’s blood tasted wonderful, so how about….

The long tongue was back in action, she realized, watching as the demon licked his fingers clean from her essence, an expression of pure joy appearing on his features.

“Now this… This is something else.”, his eyes found hers, a wicked grin on the demon’s face, “I need to taste you properly.”

Faster than a snake he was gone, head appearing between her stockinged legs. With a quick swipe of his claw the demon snapped the waistband of her panties open, throwing the ruined underwear away. Grabbing Mikasa’s asscheeks he spread her open for him, planting his face exactly where she wanted it to be. Right against her throbbing sex.

If the abnormal demon tongue felt amazing in her mouth, having it down there was indescribable. Licking at her glistening outer lips first, he glided everywhere on the wet skin, cleaning it. And then he was inside. The long muscle slid into her, writhing around and Mikasa clasped her hands over her mouth just in time before a loud scream ripped its way from her throat. This was incredible.

Nothing ever came close to how the demon’s tongue made her feel. Never in her life did Mikasa experience this much pleasure because the tongue reached everywhere stimulating the entirety of her sex in long strokes and vibrations that she had no idea how he produced. Her eyes rolled back, her chest contracted, her legs clenched around his head. Relentless in his pursuit of Mikasa’s sweetness, the demon kept tongue-fucking her with a clear purpose in mind. To speed it up, to reach his feast faster, a single claw dragged over her swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and….

Mikasa lost it.

Complete whiteness washed over her vision as she came, her inner walls contracting wildly around the demonic tongue. She pulsed and pulsed and produced more of that delicious nectar that he eagerly drank in, not letting even a drop go to waste. Mikasa’s blood was delicious but this was beyond delicious, it was the best thing that he ever tasted and the demon couldn’t get enough.

When her body began to calm, a frown entered his handsome features.

“Oh no, this won’t do, I need more.”

Mikasa didn’t even get a chance to talk before the tongue slid inside her again and she screamed, eyes shutting and features contorting. Apparently once was not enough, and the demon was intent on making her come on his face again.

This was going to be a long night.

In the end, Mikasa lost count on how many times the demon made her cum. Not tiring, not needing a break, he kept pleasuring her, toying with her clit and abusing her sex. She was lost in an unending stream of happy hormones, drowning in that ocean of pleasure the demon promised her. His grip on her was firm and Mikasa’s hips were grounded, the demon didn’t allow her to move away from him, holding his prize close. Only when she was truly done and couldn’t do it anymore, when she whined in discomfort instead of pleasure did he pull back, sated.

For now.

Completely done and spent Mikasa was practically passed out, body unresponsive and eyes closed. Hands circled her, easily picking her up and carrying her a short distance. She was gently deposited in the bed and someone pulled the covers over her before a kiss was planted on her forehead. And then a heated whisper entered her ears, pushing its way into the brain even through the curtain of absolute exhaustion.

“If you want more, my beauty, you know where to find me.”, another kiss, this time on her lips, “I’ll be waiting.”

Finally, the darkness overcame her completely.

When Mikasa woke up, hours later, she thought that it all must have been a dream. That delusion lasted for only about a second before the rest of her body woke up, the ache in her lower regions demanding that she accepts the reality. Lifting the covers, Mikasa’s eyes shot open.

Her body was still fully clothed, as the demon didn’t bother with disrobing her, only her panties were gone. There were bruises, so many bruises on her upper thighs, the small part left uncovered by the stockings littered with bites. Her neck received a similar treatment, judging from the ache.

The pentagram was there, albeit the candles were snuffed out, the book lying innocently in the middle. Mikasa tried standing up to get it, only to realize that her legs refused to carry her and she fell back into the bed. Despite all this ache, despite all the unknown, Mikasa’s lips spread into a smile as she eyed the book.

The goth girl and her green-eyed demon are going to have so much fun together.

#fanart inspired #snk #eremika #fanfic

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elysiashelby · 4 years

Text

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 13

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 5,851

WARNINGS: ANGST, HEAVY ANGST, Alcohol Consumption, Cursing, Recreational Drug Use, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, Mentions of SMUT (doesn’t concern any of the main characters)

Summary: Aliena Welsh hasn’t gotten any better. Her mental health is in the dumps and she’s coping with alcohol and drugs. How will she recover?

MASTERLIST CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 14

A/N: THERE IS A SCENE OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. YOU READ ALL OF HER THOUGHTS LEADING UP TO THIS POINT & I DO BELIEVE IT TO BE VERY TRIGGERING!! THERE WILL BE BLACK LINE BREAKS TO START THE SCENE. Not a whole lot of Tommy in this one.

That night on me birthday, I blacked out. Couldn’t remember a thing, but I do remember feeling like shit the next morning. Not just from the raging hangover, but emotionally as well. I’ve never truly understood how fuckin’ shitty it is to wake up with no fuckin’ memories of the night before.

But now I did!

The days after I attempted to cut down me drinking as suggested by Polly. I kept to it as much as I could, but I just turned to other vices when we went out. Instead of drinking, I was getting high. Same effect really except I was more affectionate than ever and wasn’t getting weepy.

Problem with weed? It made me sexually aroused a.k.a. horny. I started dancing with strangers. Men and women. I was truly not giving one flying fuck.

And it was scaring me.

I managed to get past the whole debacle of me assaulting that woman at the Garrison. Talked to Polly abar it, ya know, some of me troubles. Really made some headway. She started wanting me to work in the shop more.

Couldn’t tell ya why, though.

I didn’t mind, it kept me busy for a while. That was ‘til Polly told me she didn’t need me in the shop for sometime. So, now— I was stuck collecting money every fortnight, cleaning the house, cooking, and be an all-round delivery girl.

Have you ever heard of the saying, “High highs are followed by low lows.” Let me tell you abar the low blow I was dealt. I caught Tommy banging Lizzie.

Drop the mic!

Yeah! I caught the first love of me life having sex with a prostitute. Not knocking her down, a girl has to earn her coin somehow. It was the fact that Tom was paying for sex that got me. He would rather pay than use me.

Let me tell you the number that did on me self-esteem. I didn't want to make it matter, but it did. It was irrational, in a way. I knew that. It was just that I was so hung up on him and I couldn't find it in meself to let go of him, yet. It was absolutely pathetic. I realize that, but I was also used to it. Used to the ones that I want not wanting me.

Oh well! I mean I wasn’t obsessing over it, but it did hurt me heart, is all. It also served as a turning point for me. Now, I wasn’t just dancing with random fellas— I was making out with them too.

Kissing didn’t matter to me anymore. Ever since me first kiss was stolen by that bastard two years ago, or so.

I didn’t let it go any further. I was just making out with them. Men and women. Anyone who would have me.

I was laying in me bed. I didn’t feel like leaving it. So, I didn’t. I kept me eyes shut and was getting lost in me own world. I fantasized abar being back with me family. That I had woken up in de’ ozzy from a coma ‘n I made all of this up.

“Aliena, love. You need to get up now.” Polly whispered as she shook me gently.

I opened me eyes and blinked. I faked waking up for the first time today. I hummed.

“Come on, love.” She urged while uncovering me and taking me hand.

With our hands joined, I turned ‘round and rose to me feet. She took me head in her grasp before using the back of the head to check me temperature.

She tutted. “You don’t have a fever. Do you feel sick, Ali?”

I nodded, lying. She sighed and pulled me into her chest. I hugged her tightly while whimpering. It was better this way.

We stayed that way for a while before she pulled away. Me face in her hands again. “How ‘bout I make ya some soup? You go on back to bed and I call you when it’s done. Yeah?”

I nodded with a small smile. She led me back to me bed and tucked me in. I said nothing as the tears streamed down me face. When she left, I closed me eyes again.

I’m so tired.

When the soup was ready, she got me up as promised and helped me down. I was acting and not at the same time. I was just showing how I really felt. I knew tomorrow I would have to bottle it all up again.

It was just that I already used up all me rest days just laying around, so this was a better cover.

She sat with me as I slowly nibbled away at the soup she made me. I didn’t care for it. I wanted me ma’s chicken soup. We made small chat ‘til I was done and I was sent back to bed afterward.

I laid there doing nothing ‘til I felt like I was going stir crazy. I leaped from me bed and pulled out me journal that was full of me writings. Only once I had the pen in me hand, I couldn’t think of anything.

I threw it down and ran me hands over me face. I began doin’ some heavy breathing before I took a deep breath and just suppressed it. I just suppressed it ‘cause I felt like I was being overdramatic.

I do so much complaining. I should be grateful. I should be grateful for what I have. Why was I so miserable?

Because I wasn’t in a relationship with Tommy, don’t make me laugh! He’s just one man.

Is it because I’m not with me family? Come on, after all that wishing to experience something more exciting in me life!

Fucking kinel! I was lucky enough to be found by Jeremiah and not be chucked into some mental asylum or in a prison cell for being suspicious. For not having to sell me own body in order to make ends meet. No, nothing has changed. I’m still that sheltered little girl who is just so ungrateful.

I inhaled sharply and gripped me hair tightly.

Just so greedy. Just so lustful. So fuckin’ ungrateful.

“No!” I shouted before I slapped meself. The stinging sensation overwhelmed me and balanced me. I swallowed harshly before racking me head for a song.

I sang ‘Empty’ by Olivia O’Brien to meself. I sang a million of other depressing songs ‘til me head ached. Then, I sat there. Just sat there. Letting the stories that ran through me mind play out there since I couldn’t write them.

But even they weren’t bringing me joy. Awful scenarios triumphed the love stories I was trying to conjure. They would just turn sour with infidelity, broken promises, and death.

I placed me bent elbows on me desk and used me hands to support me head. I closed me eyes as a way to fight the burning in me eyes.

As soon as I woke up, I choked down a sigh. I just turned on me back and ran a hand threw me hair. After a second or two, I got up and began getting ready for the day. For the past couple of days, I’ve been waking up with anxiety. I haven’t felt this way since being in school.

College was different. I had more freedoms, but years six through eleven— they were absolute hell for me. It just triggered me anxiety disorders, especially me agoraphobia.

I looked at meself in the mirror and saw a dead woman. I placed me fingers under me eyes, tugged down, and then let go. I took a sharp breath before I opened the door and walked out.

I was finding it harder to breathe these days. Like if me asthma was back, or gotten worse. Which would be totally plausible since I have been smoking ciggies now. Still pace meself, though.

I had me hair in a bun, some hairs framing me face. I was wearing a light purple button up shirt with a darker purple, high-waisted midi skirt.

I walked down and cut me two slices of bread. I was gonna eat me regular bread and jam. I sat down ‘n ate it. When I was done, I began to clean up again. The same old routine. Sweep, dust, fold, sew, shine, or wash.

I was in the middle of fixing one of Finn’s shirts when he walked in, panting. His lips smacked before he spoke. “Tom-Tommy wants to see you.”

“What is it, Finn?” I asked while rising to me feet. What the fuck’s happened? “What’s happened?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was out with Isaiah, came in and he told me he wanted me to get you.”

I let out a sigh of relief before annoyance took over me. I shoved his head away from me. “Dear lord, Finn. I thought something bad happened! Ugh!” I walked past him and into the shop.

The chatter of men overwhelmed me senses. I marched over to Tommy’s office and knocked before going in.

“Finn said you needed me.” I stood up straight with me shoulder rolled back. Me fingers were interlocked and resting at me waist.

Thomas nodded as he took a drag from his ciggie. “I need you to deliver this to Moss.” He looked up as he held up the package for me to take.

It was probably hush money to distribute, or his own allowance to keep him quiet, or something else.

I blinked furiously as I stepped forward and attempted to take the package from his hand.

Okay, the fuck is happening?

Tommy kept looking at me up and down and wouldn’t let go of the package. I cleared me throat and he let go instantly.

“Right. I need you to give that to him as soon as possible. So, it’s best if you go now.” He looked away from me and back down at his paperwork.

“Right.” I repeated softly before turning ‘round. As I stood in the doorway, I held onto the wall and snapped me head to Tommy.

“Tommy.”

He looked up, his eyes wide. “Yeah?”

I thought abar it. I wanted to ask what that was all abar. I cleared me throat before gulping and shake me head. “Nevermind. Have a good rest of your day, Tom.”

I didn’t wait to hear a response. I practically ran out of there. I got me coat and then out the door. The cold air stung me face, but I welcomed it. After all, that interaction got me all warm inside.

I didn’t want to think abar it too hard. I had negative and positive thoughts. Maybe he thought I looked nice, but at the same time— maybe he saw what I’ve been hiding too. I remembered abar that promise we made on December 3rd. Abar how I would go to him if me depression was getting bad, but—! I didn’t sit right with me. How could I complain abar all of me problems when he was unknowingly one of them?

I sighed and clutched the package tighter. Men and women alike greeted me as I passed. After the bar “fight,” some stares and greetings changed. I didn’t care.

Why should I? They probably bunched me in with the rest of the Blinders, now. Might call me a devil too, now.

I huffed. Well, as long as they kept their thoughts to themselves. A bizzy held open the door for me, so I flashed them a nod ‘n smile. I walked through the building ‘n ignored the stares. I walked over to Moss’s office and knocked.

“Come in.” He shouted.

I opened the door and walked in. Moss, instantly, sat up straight.

“Ms. Welsh.” He began. “What can I do for ya?”

With the package still in one hand, I thrusted it forward, bouncing it a little. “Mr. Shelby has a delivery for you.”

He ah-ed, rose from his seat, and took it. “Thank you. Miss. My wife was just saying the other day how she missed your company. She’d be very pleased if you visited her soon.”

I smiled and nodded. “Oh, well, I’ll make sure to stop by soon. Good afternoon, Sergeant Moss.” I nodded again and turned ‘round.

I felt the stares and heard the whispers as I walked. As walked out of the station, as I walked home.

I shook me head as I raised me fingers to me head. Whispers, gossip, chisme. It was all so fucking annoying. Me days were blending together. Day in and day out, I was just lethargic. Having to force meself to do all this stuff was so tiring.

But what else am I going to do? I’m so useless.

I was letting the music in me head envelope me. With me hands, I moved me hair to the side as I danced. I was hot. Like feverishly hot, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking abar anything but dancing.

I felt someone take their hands in mine, so I opened me eyes. Cassie was in front of me.

“Dance with me.” She yelled before she started doing the Charleston.

I giggled and then began to do it with her. For this type of dancing, I had to tune in on the club music. The club we were at right now was owned by Sabini. Luckily, no one knew me face. Otherwise, we might have been kicked out or worse.

Well, actually, since there was no bad blood yet… I might’ve just been used as a tool for some sort of deal. Ya know, a messenger or something.

When I felt tired, I gulped for air and stopped dancing. As did Cassie. We walked into each other. Why do we fucking wear heels all the damn time? I want me trainers back!

“Let’s go back to the table, yeah.” I announced more than asked. I led Cassie back to the table where Angie and Tina were sitting with men.

I rolled me eyes. Here we fuckin’ go. “Angie!” I shouted. “We’re back. You can hit the floor if ya want.” Angie’s eyes snapped to Tina, excitement all over her face. Tina’s facial expression spoke volumes, “She didn’t want to leave the table.” But she gave a sheepish smile, and nodded instead.

“Thanks, Ali.” She said to me before looking down at her new friend. “You want to dance with me?” She asked him to which he happily took her hand. Then, the four of them were gone.

I let out a sigh of relief and sat down with me legs open.

Cassie snorted. “You’re so ungraceful.”

I tsked while waving her off. “Do one. I’m tired.” I reached for me glass of water. I wasn’t gonna be drinking alcohol for a while. However, I did reach into me bag and took out a rolled joint along with me lighter.

I lit it up and took a puff. I held it for as long as I could before exhaling. This wasn’t wise. I’ve already smoke so much, but I didn’t want to come down from me high— so, I was lightin’ up again.

“You got cards?” I asked before exhaling another puff.

Cassie shook two fingers as she replied. “Yeah, in my purse.”

I passed her the joint. Probably shouldn’t have since she was drinking too, but fuck it! She was a grown woman.

I sniffed and wiped me nose. Cassie took out the cards with one hand before getting frustrated since she couldn’t get them open. She passed me back the joint before taking one last puff. I took it as a chance to take another drag.

Cassie got the cards out and began to shuffle them. “So, what game are we playing?”

I shrugged. “Want to play Go Fish?”

Cassie chuckled while meeting me gaze. “That’s your favorite game, isn’t it.”

I shrugged again, exhaling while stubbing out the joint. “Easiest to play. That’s all.” So, that’s what we did ‘til I found meself getting more ‘n more sluggish. I felt the imaginary hand squeeze me heart as much as it was racing. That sense of dread better known as a cold sweat.

Before I knew it, I passed out.

When I came too, I felt a cold towel on me forehead. Slowly, I reached for it and dragged it off me face. I moaned as I sat up straight in me chair. I looked to me right to see Cassie chatting up some guy.

My moan caught her attention.

“Oh, good, you woke up, Ali. You smoked too much weed again. I got you a towel from the bar while you were passed out. Just stay there for a while. This is Henry.” Cassie motioned to Harry who greeted me.

Through squinted eyes, I nodded at him and gave him a little wave. I turned me attention back on the wet towel. I placed it back on me forehead and just looked ‘round. People were dancing, sitting and having a chat, and others were just drinking. Well, okay. I didn’t want to pay attention to it, but there were people having sex ‘n doing a whole bunch of exhibitionist acts.

I stifled a laugh at meself while covering me mouth. I swear this place is always a madhouse, but it was very freeing too. People were just free here. It made me feel like I fit in.

The bad thing abar sitting down by yourself when you’re high, for me, is that I start thinking. Thinking while high isn’t good. ‘Cause what you find out is that you don’t feel pain all that much. If you catch my drift.

I sighed. The same thoughts that’s been haunting me kept repeating in me head. The same stuff as always.

Why was I here? What was my purpose? What was I going to do with my life now? ‘Cause honestly, I was a 22-year-old Hispanic English-American, who was working on her first book as well as beginning the process of having a baby. I was going to have a baby.

And now, I’m here. Getting high and drinking meself ‘til I blacked out. I was having anxiety attacks under the same roof of the man I’ve been obsessing over since 2013!

My whole life plan was fucked. I’m stuck in the 1920s where Women’s rights are not the highest priority. Fuck, my children are probably gonna be put through the second world war.

I sighed loudly as I pinched me nose and started bouncing me leg. I let the towel fall off me head and onto the table. I picked up back up and started wiping me neck with it.

I miss my family and friends. I want the comfort of being in my own home back. The feeling of security. I knew that no matter what my family would be there for me always. But here, here everything was conditional. Everything came at a price.

Doesn’t it?

I mean, yeah, it does.

I stopped wiping and got up. Me chair scraped loudly against the floor. I got up too quickly. Me vision went black and I had to sit down again. I stifled the moans that wanted to escape me mouth out of embarrassment and pride.

When me vision cleared, I got up again. Slower this time. Then, I began to make my way over to the bar.

“Oi!” I shouted. The bartender looked toward my direction. I raised the towel and he walked over to me. “I wanted to give this back. Don’t need it anymore. Thanks.”

He took it from me hand while nodding. “No problem, miss.”

I nodded while taping the bar top rhythmically before turning ‘round and walked back to the table.

I have no idea what time it is. I don’t care. I fucked up. I groaned and doubled over.

“Get the fuck up, Ali.” Cassie slurred.

“Do one, slag.” I replied while trying to push her away.

She tsked. “You fuckin’ first. We’re almost at your stupid house.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Bitch.”

“No you.”

We glared at each other before busting out laughing. I started kicking me feet.

“I’m gonna piss meself!” I shouted. “I’m gonna-! I’m gonna piss meself!”

Cassie cackled even harder while clutching me arm with a death grip. I said “ow,” very childishly as I tried to pry her grip off me.

Anyway, I drank. I stupidly drank and was also high. I can’t describe the feeling except that I am extremely tired and numb.

I slumped to the side and tried holding me head up, but failed. I groaned loudly as me head slipped from me hand. I shot back up and held my stomach. I felt like I was gonna be sick.

I pried open the window and stuck out me head.

“Get in, you dummy.” Cassie shouted as she tried to claw me back inside. Her nails only leaving a little bit of sting. It was enough for me to register that she was doing it.

I breathed slowly and deeply. I tried making the cold wind sober me up. But then the clawing got annoying, so I shook off the heel of my left foot and used it to push her away.

I could faintly hear her groan. Should’ve known that wouldn’t have stopped her. She started pulling on me leg. I rolled me eyes and got back into the car.

“I was trying to feel better, Cass!” I shouted in face.

She pouted angrily, like a child, before burying her face in me breasts. I sighed and started stroking her hair. I did it for so long that I didn’t even realize we had made it to me house.

“Ms. Welsh, we’ve arrived.” Simmons repeated.

“Huh? Oh, okay.” I looked ‘round the car ‘n saw that everyone was passed out. I loudly stifled me laughter. “Simmons, they, uh.”

“I know, Ms. Welsh. I can take care of it.” He smiled at me through the rear-view mirror.

I trusted him as much as Cassie trusted him. He came with her and her father from America. He’s been with their family for a long time.

So, I nodded and slipped out from under Cassie slowly. I opened the car door with the same pace and then stumbled out. I was flailing abar like fucking Bambi! I gasped when I was able to balance meself. I took a deep breath and then tapped on the hood of the car.

“Thank you, Simmons.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Welsh. Goodnight.”

“You too.” I said before giving him a salute and turning ‘round. I trudged over to the door and shifted through me purse for the keys. I groaned impatiently when I couldn’t find them right away.

Once I did, I cheered and unlocked the door. I stumbled through, me heels clacking against the floor. As I was taking off me coat, I noticed a coat that’s not often there. Along with a very familiar shoulder holster.

A whisper escaped my lips as me fingertips carefully touched the items. “Tommy.”

I slowly walked into the living room and saw that there was a fire lit along with a glass on the table. I walked even slower toward the couch, me heart in me throat. I looked over it and sure enough, he was sleeping on the couch.

I smiled with scoff. I, immediately, turned ‘round and slowly went upstairs. I didn’t want to disturb his sleep. Hardly gets any as it is.

As I closed my door, I let out a sigh of relief. I looked down and cured. “Fuck! I forgot to hang up me coat.” I tsked and ripped it off me. I threw it on me chair. I crossed me arms and took off my dress. I had to fight with it a little, though. I left it on the floor and walked to my closet.

I took out my matching white nightgown and robe. I put them both on. I tied the robe tightly around me stomach and then began taking the pins out of me hair. I trudged over to my desk and threw them on there.

I shook out me hair and finally looked at meself in the mirror. I smiled at meself softly. If there was something I was absolutely confident abar meself, it was me hair. I smiled again before looking down and getting the stuff I needed to take off all this makeup.

Once I was done, I walked over to me bed and sat down on it. I wasn’t tired anymore. So, I just sat there. I shuffled over the window and just looked. I would strain me eyes so much that black dots would appear and I would frighten meself.

What am I doing here? Why am I here? How is ma and papa doing? Are they grieving over me? How abar me friends? Did they know I was gone? Did anyone? Was this real? This is real, right?

Calm down, Aliena. That’s not your name. I took a deep breath. That’s not your name! You are not 18-years-old. Why is your body like this? Why can I do things that I couldn’t do before?

I raised me hand to me head.

What am I doing? How long am I going to wait for Tommy to look at me? How long am I going to stay with this family? Should I just move in with Cassie? No, no that’s wrong.

No, this is wrong.

Stop being so irrational. You’re just feeling depressed, right now. You’ll get over this soon. You’re overreacting.

But what if I’m not?

When Grace comes back, will Tommy still sleep with her? Does he love her as intensely as he did on the show?

Why would you think anything else? Well, we used to be close. Used to be! He made it clear many nights ago that you were to be married to someone else. He doesn’t like you like that!

I whimpered and gripped me head tighter. Me feet going back and forth on the bed, messing up my blankets.

Even if he did, you’re too insecure. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you’d be worried. Worried every time he left that door. Every time he had a far off thought. “Are you thinking of her?” You’d think. “Did you cheat on me?” You ask. “If you ever cheat on me, I’ll kill you.” You’d threaten.

Toxic, toxic, toxic.

Should I try to go back?

My eyes shot open and I gasped.

Should I try to go back? Maybe this is all a very complicated dream. If I die, then maybe I’ll wake up in my room at home. I see me ma’ sitting in the living room with her dogs. Papa would be in his room working or with her in the living room. I’d see my baby niece.

I gulped. I put down me hands and noticed they were shaking.

Things here aren’t that great. I’m not close to Tommy anymore. I’m depressed and I can’t recall most days. I’m drinking meself half to death. I should just…

I looked at the door with wide eyes. I felt tears sting me eyes. I took a shuddering breath and slowly, me feet touched the floor. I gasped and a tear fell from me eye. I walked toward me door and slowly opened it.

I savored every creak of the door. When I deemed that I opened it enough to slip through, I stopped and did just that. I twirled ‘round and closed it with just as much care. I walked past Tommy’s door with ease since he was downstairs.

I was at the top of the stairs when it hit me.

Should I leave a note?

I raised me hand to my mouth and nibbled on my fingernail. I shook me head, deciding against it.

I went down the stairs, one step at a time. Each more daunting than the last. I didn’t want to risk waking up Thomas. When I got to the last step, I let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

I tiptoed across the room all the way to the door. I went to get me coat and mentally cursed meself.

I left it upstairs.

I looked back at the stairs. My face contorted in discomfort. I looked back at the rack and stared at Tommy’s coat and shoulder holster. I then shifted my gaze to the couch where he laid.

I took a deep breathe and raised me hands at a snail’s pace. I took the holster into me hands and carefully lifted it up. I put it on with little difficulty. I thought I would have trouble since I saw Tommy having some from time to time.

The holster was empty. I knew it would be. I took a deep breath and tip-toed over to where Tommy laid. There on the little table was the gun. I held me breath as I walked closer.

I was in front of him now. I couldn’t stare. He would feel it. ‘Cause of the war. I reach down and quickly snatched the gun. I didn’t waste a second as I quickly walked back to his coat. With the gun clenched tightly in me hand, I exhaled as silently as I could. Me mouth opened wide as I slowly let the breath out.

When I didn’t see his head pop up, I swallowed me worries. I placed the gun in the holster and then hurriedly put on the coat.

It was so big on me. Me hands were lost in the sleeves and it reached me mid-thigh.

I could admire it later. I blinked and made my way to the door. I gripped the handle with a strength I didn’t know I had. Me hands shook as I slowly unlocked the door. Then, I opened it with just as much care.

Just like I’d done earlier, I slipped through the sliver. Once the door was shut, I let go an audible exhale. I looked ‘round me and instantly felt paranoid. I walked fast and looked at no one.

I brought the sleeves to me face. I took in the scent.

Cigarettes. It smelt of cigarettes and his cologne. I used to associate the smell of ciggie with me gran, but now— I was surrounded by smokers. The scent, I would think, would evade my nose since it was so common. I just adapted to it.

I took in the sights as I walked past them.

This maybe the very last time I walk these cobblestone steps. This last time I set eyes on these houses. No more gossips, no more whispers.

I took another gasp for air and quickened my pace.

I kept feeling like someone was chasing me.

There was this burn in me legs. They were begging for me to stop, but I was used to it. It reminded me of the times I would feel this burn in me legs when I walked to and from school.

So, I marched on all the way ‘til I reached my special place. When my parents’ headstones were in sight, it got very real. I was going to attempt committing suicide again. It was like white noise filled me head as I walked up to them.

I dropped to me knees when I stood in front of their headstones. Me hands instinctively began to trace their names.

Memories of them began to flash in me head. From when I was little to just, what, two years ago now. I have a feeling the childhood memories were fabricated, though. I hardly have any positive memories of that time. I lost them to my depression.

I sucked in breath and exhaled, shakily with my cheeks puffed.

I just kept thinking abar their faces. How much I missed them. That brought on longing for me friends. I met them in high school ‘n they meant everything to me. I thought they would see my babies. They wanted to be there for me ‘n now…

I let out a curt laugh to meself as I bent me head, in shame. Slowly, I got off me knees and sat on me bum. I brought me trembling hand to where the gun was. It was cold in me grasp.

I took it out. The holster made a noise as I did so. I held it with both hands.

My breathing got quicker and I felt more and more fear.

I was going to die. What if I die? What if I die and don’t wake up? What if I don’t see my parents’ again after all and I just threw away my life?

Isn’t that what you wanted! I mean you’re depressed, aren’t you!

Yes, but no. I had things I wanted to do before I died.

So, why are you doing this?

“Because I’m so fucking tired.” I sobbed as I raised my forearms to hide me face. I brought my knees to me chest as well.

I let out an “oooh” before blowing the rest of the exhale out.

Well, then what abar the Shelbys’? How will they react when they find my body? Will they weep? Will they hold a funeral? Will I change things?

I choked on a sob. Then, it hit me. Like a fucking revelation an idea struck me.

Let’s leave this to a high power. I don’t care who. God, Fortuna, Tyche, or just the laws that controlled fucking chance.

I opened up the cylinder, spread me legs, and emptied out the chamber. I let the bullets fall on me dress. I took the bullets and set them aside one by one. I held that sixth bullet in me palm. I rolled it ‘round in me palm.

This very bullet will decide my fate. It completely holds the fate of my life. This little thing.

I slid it back into a chamber, closed me eyes, spun the cylinder, and then snapped it closed. I opened me eyes ‘n a tear fell out.

When debating suicide, I only accepted two ways. Overdosing on sleeping pills and a bullet to the head, no pain. Peaceful.

I laid down between the headstones of my parents and looked up at the sky. Tree branches were slightly in the way, but it made for a beautiful picture. Tears were falling out of me eyes more now. Blurred me vision, but I didn’t care. I liked the way me tears rolled down me face.

Slowly, I raised the gun to me temple. I inhaled sharply and held it as cocked the gun. A sob wracked my body.

I placed me finger on the trigger gently. Thoughts in me head were racing a hundred miles per hour.

I kept apologizing to everyone that ever mattered to me. The Shelbys, my friends here, my family, and my friends there.

I licked my lips, threw my head back against the ground, and gasped. I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “Tommy,” was left unsaid.

Then, I pulled the trigger.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729 @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero @thatweirddaydreamer

#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #in another world #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

From attack mode to baby mode final

with his diaper bag packed and Leo dressed and ready to go, Baby Yusei was helped into a large stroller by his 'big bro and sis' though he fussed and whined a little as he tried to get comfy in the dark blue thing.

Oh, it was big enough that he barely had to bend his legs to fit in and everything and it was padded so it felt like he was on a pillow but still, some small part of him felt like he should be WALKING.

Luna had gotten his diaper bag and some toys packed away in the under carriage and it was Leo who was shaking a rattle in Yusei's face trying to calm him down.

"shhh it's ok little guy! Look I know you wanna walk to the park like a big kid, but you ALSO know you're just gonna get tired and wanna be carried. you can run around LOTS once we get to the park ok?" Leo tried.

Sucking on his paci and squirming in his thick diapers and pretty outfit, Yusei sighed and stopped his fusing but reached out with his hand, opening and closing it.

the universal gesture of 'gimme' among babies and toddlers (and some adults)

Leo smirked and pulled the rattle back towards himself for a Second as Luna stood up and Yusei whimpered and whined, reaching with both hands now.

He didn't really get why he wanted the damn thing SO much but he could feel the tears building up as he stained for it.

"Leo! Stop teasing him and give him the rattle or you'll be joining him in the stroller!" Luna scolded, hands on her hips.

with how fast he tossed the rattle into the stroller for Yusei to play with it, you'd of sworn the thing had become super hot to the touch, but Yusei just giggled and grabbed it, shaking it lots and sucking on his paci.

The walk to the park wasn't all that long, but somehow they seemed to past half the people they knew on the way. Each and every time they were stopped Yusei was sure he was about to be laughed at, or get asked what the hell he was doing but everyone just treated him like he'd always been a little sissy baby.

'Huh, some sorta..re-writiing of history? a illusion of sorts? who's got the power to pull off something like this?" Yusei wondered, going deep in thought even as he kept shaking the rattle.

So deep in thought was he he didn't realize that Crow had been looking down at him till the orange haired duelist reached in and light brushed his fingers on Yusei's nose, then put his thumb between two fingers.

"Got your nose!" Crow teased and Yusei giggled at that and reached up with a free hand, trying to get it back.

Crow teased him for about 10 seconds before relenting and Yusei just let his instincts in this time line or whatever was going on take over. To that end once he got a hand on crow's, he dropped the rattle and put his other hand on Crows and made a snatching motion then put both his hands onto his face and giggled as he removed them, implying he'd put his nose back.

"Oh my, such a clever baby! I know when I'm Licked." Crow chuckled and ruffled Yusei's hair. "You guys have fun but don't stay out too long, it's gonna be a scorcher today and you don't want the baby getting a sun burn."

Advise given, the duelist walked off and the trio finally made they're way into the park, heading right for the playground equipment.

Well almost right for, Luna took them to a park bench first and started to get some things unloaded while Leo amusingly started to jog in place.

"Can I go play now? Can I go play now? Can I go play now?" He kept asking.

"remind me again which one of us is technically older?" Luna asked, rolling her eyes. "and if you'd help me get some toys out and get Yusei set up in the sand box, you can go and hit the swings."

"Finnnne." Leo said and then grabbed the bucket that Luna offered and stuffed it with a toy shovel and rake and then dashed over to the sandbox to plant it for Yusei, and called over from the sand box.

"NOW can I go play?"

"I hope your not as hyper as him when you get to be his age Yusei." Luna said softly, smirking and undoing the straps of the Stroller and helping Yusei out even as he frowned a little.

'Huh? when i get to be his age? I'm older then he is!..aren't I?' Yusei wondered mentally.

He would of put more focus on that thought but as he was set on the the ground on all fours his body surprised him by taking off crawling at a fair speed heading for the sand box.

Luna kept up, though she was also clearly keeping one eye back on the stroller and then as they got to the sand box she stayed out to watch as Yusei climbed in and found the feeling of the sand between his fingers to rather interesting and kept grabbing big handful's of it and coo'ing, letting the paci fall from his mouth.

"Now remember Yusei, the sands for playing in, not for eating." Luna coo'ed.

"and try and leave some in the sandbox this time." Leo joked then gave Luna a pleading look and went to open his mouth,.

"Yes Leo, you can go and play now. but don't wander off anywhere by yourself. I don't wanna have to go looking for you again." Luna said, then raised a eyebrow and that caught Yusei's attention, and he noticed how Leo was hopping around.

"But first go and use the bathroom." Luna giggled.

"I don't have to!" Leo huffed, blushing.

"Leo, if you wet your trainers, you'll have to wear one of Yusei's diapers. do you want that?" Luna asked.

"..I'm gonna go and use the bathroom, but only cuz -I- wanna!" Leo huffed and then took off for the public restroom.

"Boys, am I rite?" Luna asked and smirked, leaning down and ruffling Yusei's hair.

He would of complained or pointed out he was a boy, but between his sissy outfit and the urge to make a sand castle the argument was gone from his mind in seconds.

The sand box didn't have anyone in it making Yusei king (or was that queen?) of the sand box for about the first 20 minutes he was playing in it.

he was amazed to find how fun it was to just dig his hands into the sand and pretend it was a sand monster but after a few minutes of that, it was time to get to work.

Any self respecting Queen of the sand box after all had to have his own castle, that was just common sense and spending 15 or so seconds planing it out, he took hold of the pail and shovel Luna had give him and got to work.

His Castle would be composed of grand towers where lots of guards could be stationed to protect their loving queen, and have a moat around it to trap the stinky heads from the evil fart nation. as such he picture a white stone castle with pink tiled roofs and a massive moat filled with hungry gators that loved to eat pants and undies but never people (he wasn't a monster after all) and would send the soldiers of the fart nation running home clutching they're butts and crying for mommy.

In practice however, it was bucket shaped mounts of sand already crumbling, with some twigs stuck in them for where the flags would be and the moat was drawn in the sand with his finger, him crawling and wiggling his padded behind as he went all around the castle.

turning around Yusei went to call out to Luna to come and see his amazing castle when a mean voice behind him caught his attention.

"Nice sand castle loser. looks more like a pile of dog crap!"

whirling around Yusei saw a 5-6 year old chubby boy with a blond crew cut and wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt that read 'fuck the rules' on the front of it. Despite mentally knowing he was older and should be bigger and stronger then this little twat monkey, Yusei felt himself trembling in fear.

"L-Leave me alone or I'll call my big sis and brother over!" Yusei stammered out.

"Awww is the widdle pamper packer gonna cry boo hoo hoo and whine for help?" The bully mocked, and rubbing his fists under his eyes mockingly.

Behind him not too fair off was a 12-13 year old in a similar outfit, only with a jean jacket and sporting a kool-aid dyed green Mohawk. figuring it was the bullies big brother, the older boy was smirking and nodding his approval at his little brothers behavior, clearly proud.

'Great.normally I'd handle bullies like this with ease and instead I'm seconds away from wetting myself in terror.' Yusei thought then felt a warm gush in the front of his diapers. 'Never mind..'

"Ha! I heard that! Did the big dumb baby piss his pampers?" the brat said, sticking out his tongue and tugging down on a eyelid with one hand and flipping baby Yusei off with the other. "Here, this will really make you sob and fudge your huggies!" He said and then before baby Yusei could react, he raised a foot and stomped down on the sand castle, making quick work of it.

"N-No STOP!! I-I worked weally h-hard on..L-LUNA! L-LEO!" Yusei cried out, starting to wail.

He wasn't sure what they had been doing but within seconds they were at his side, with Luna kneeling down and trying to comfort Yusei and letting him blubber on her shoulder while Leo clenched a fist and got in the bullies face.

"What's wrong with you? Picking on a little kid?! I got half a mind to give you a taste of your own medicine!" He growled.

"go ahead, try it.. OH Maxxxxx!" The little bully called, and the punk from before strolled over.

"There a problem here billy?" the boy asked, smirking and making sure his much more developed then normal for his age muscles showed.

"This green haired little snot is threatening to kick me butt!" Billy said with a smirk."Can you kick his instead?"

"Sure thing little dude." Max said and went to go and deliver a punch to Leo's face, making Leo flinch and turn away, but he never should of worried, the punch was caught by Luna, who looked totally pissed.

"You know..I hate fighting..I would prefer to settle things with a duel." She said, and twisted and squeezed on the fist in her hand, making Max drop to a knee even as he tried with no success to pry her hand off of him.

Billy yelped and then went to attack Luna but Leo stuck out a arm and the soon to be ex bully clothesline himself, doing a 360 before landing face first in the sand, eyes rolling in his head.

"Billy!"Max cried out.

"Is not your concern right now. your little brother made our little baby sissy cry. then you went to attack my twin brother...as I was saying, just because I don't LIKE to fight, doesn't mean I won't. I'm giving you ONE chance to say sorry, and take Billy and leave, Or I'll show you the true meaning of pain." Luna said, eyes burning.

Yusei sniffled and watched in amazement at the sight in front of him, and felt his bowels giving away, filling up the back of his diaper..

'remind me never to piss big sister off!' he thought and stuck a thumb in his mouth, only to pull it out and make a face because the sand on it.

"I..I..I'm sorry." Max was whimpering. "Please just let me go!"

Luna went from a living nightmare to smiling sweetly and let go of Max's fist, and leaning down.

"I hope next time we see you on the playground we can all play ni-" She was saying when Max went for a sucker punch.

Luna blocked it with one arm and punched him across the chin, sending max into a heap next to his brother.

"heh.. gonna call them the candlelight brothers." Leo chuckled, going over and checking on Yusei.

"Hmmm?" Luna asked, turning around and joining him.

"one blow and their out."

"heh, nice. Though I think we better call it a day.. I think we're attracting a bit too much attention." Luna said, looking around at all the stares they were getting. "Besides it smells like somebody made a super stinky diaper!"

Luna added, leaning down and tickling Yusei who giggled and gurgled despite the hot smelly load in his pampers.

Getting back home Luna got Yusei changed into a fresh diaper while Leo when and started the landry, and once the baby was all nice and clean she just had him in a light pink top with purple text that read 'little stinker' in cursive.

"I'm sorry you fun at the park today got ruined little one." Luna was saying, getting Yusei's attention as he seemed to drift out of it for a second.

he couldn't be sure but it seemed like everything in the house was just a bit bigger then it had been before they had left.

'But that's impossible..I'm not shrinking..then again I've woken up to a world where I'm a sissy baby and Luna's a freaking super sayian sooo I guess nothing really is impossible at this point.' Yusei thought.

"It's s'ok Big sis, not your fault people are big stinky farts." Yusei coo'ed, making Luna giggle.

"well put little one. Well I suppose we could watch some cartoons. " Luna said, giving Yusei a hug.

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gothgirlmahi · 3 years

Text

Wallflower Chapter 1

New series!

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You meet a man at a party neither of you wants to be at.

Warnings: Smut

You weren’t even supposed to be here.

Your boss dragged you here when his boyfriend bailed last minute. He really wasn’t even invited, he was just a journalist. The only reason you went was because he begged and begged and—

“Please please please I can’t go alone, I’ll owe you, I swear.” Having someone like Carter owe you sounded good so you prettied yourself up and you both got into an Uber to Avengers Tower for a fundraiser. Higher ups wanted Carter to cover it himself and, if possible, get an interview with Tony Stark. Considering your line of work, you knew Tony Stark wasn’t exactly amiable to every reporter so you wished him luck.

You walked into a room full of flashing lights, rich people meandering around wearing their best, and waiters carrying around foods you couldn’t even identify. Pretentious snobs. Definitely not your crowd. You knew you probably stuck out a bit. Even wearing the best dress you owned, you couldn’t compete with some of these people. You supposed it didn’t matter because you weren’t one of these people and it was only one night.

Carter tapped you on the shoulder and pointed further in the room. At the center of a crowd of people was Tony Stark himself, smirking and obviously trying to get out of the crowd.

“Oof. I’ve handled bigger crowds for lesser celebrities. Time to start elbowing.” Carter ran off on his mission, quite literally leaving you in the middle of a room with nothing to do. You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

Cutting through the rest of the crowd was easy enough as you made your way to a spot that wasn’t as busy. The bar looked enticing but it seemed too early to start drinking so you propped yourself against the wall and started scrolling through your phone.

Something in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A quick peek over revealed a man leaning on the wall a few yards away. Handsome. Thick hair that rested just above his shoulders. Brooding. Hands in pockets. Scowl etched on his face.

Very interesting.

His gaze met yours. Even in the darkened room you could make out the color of his eyes. The steel blue flickered over your form briefly before returning his gaze to the ground. You shifted a bit closer to him, not close enough to be weird, but enough that he could hear you talk over the music.

A waiter walked by with a tray of some sort of food you couldn’t even identify. You sighed deeply, turning back to your silent friend.

“I would kill for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

You almost hit yourself. Would that joke even land with him? Well, it was hardly a joke, but still. He might have been a snob, too, or actually here of his own free will. Maybe he didn’t like peanut butter and jelly. Maybe he was allergic to peanuts. Not even an hour in and you were fucking up. You never were good at networking anyway. In the midst of beating yourself up, you saw the tiniest upward curve reach his lips. Those plump pink lips.

God, he was pretty.

It wasn’t fair. You were almost mad because his eyelashes were longer than yours and his hair was perfectly framing his shoulders while your own style seemed to be falling apart by the minute. He was obviously well put together, at least on the outside. He wasn’t dressed as fancy as some of the others, but his physique more than made up for it. Just a plain but elegant blazer, dress shirt and some straight legged dress pants.

He was your only interest in the crowded room and you wanted to make him smile again. You slid closer until you were about four feet apart.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” you asked him.

That was bad. So bad it was good. It was a line you liked to use. Usually went okay. He exhaled, holding back a laugh with a gorgeous smirk on his face.

“I bet you say that to all the fellas.”

His voice was low and gruff, like he didn’t use it often, but warm with mirth. You gave him a wink.

“Just the cute ones. But really, what brings you here?”

He looked confused for a moment before giving a shrug.

“I’m an Avenger.”

You took a better look at him and your heart nearly stopped. The long hair, minimal talking, and general angst emanating from him threw you. Was that James Barnes? Did you just try a pickup line on the goddamn Winter Soldier? You had called the Winter Soldier a pretty little thing. He was, but that wasn’t something you just came out and said. Your big mouth was always getting you in trouble.

This was the same man you learned about in school. Or would have learned about if you had been paying attention. It took everything in you not to outwardly cringe.

“Sergeant Barnes, I am so sorry. I did not recognize you. It’s dark in here, I’m not a weirdo. I mean, maybe a little, but I’m not some kind of—I’m rambling, sorry for that, too. Jesus, fuck, I’m gonna shut up now.”

He laughed, a proper one this time. At your expense. You supposed if you were going to be a clown, he was as good an audience as any. Now seemed like a good time to curl up and never face the outside world again so you stepped off the wall, ready to leave and find a new spot.

“Hey, wait. I’m sorry for laughing. It’s just the face you made. I’m not a jerk, I swear. Geez, now I’m rambling. I’m Bucky.”

He held out his hand and you shook it firmly.

“Okay, Bucky, didn’t your mama ever teach you not to make fun of young ladies spilling their hearts out to you?”

He straightened up with a faux serious face.

“You’re right. My ma would kill me. It’s not like I have too many ladies spilling their hearts to me, though, so call me out of practice.”

“Hard to believe. Look over there,” you gestured to a woman eyeing him, “red dress wants you bad.” Bucky didn’t even look at the woman, just shook his head. You gave him your name, trying to be polite and get introductions out of the way. He didn’t seem like much of a talker but that was okay because you talked too much. Especially when you were nervous.

While you were contemplating possible escape routes, he asked why you were here.

“Boss dragged me here. Needed a date. Sounds like an HR disaster, right? He’s a journalist. Well, we both are I guess, but I don’t cover things like this. He wants to cover this whole ‘Tony Stark raising money for the kids’ thing but these days I’m more like ‘what kind of bread are you based on your zodiac sign?’”

“I think I’m a Pisces?”

“You’re a sturdy looking fella, I think you’re rye.”

“That’s what journalism is these days?”

“I used to do political stuff and it quite literally depressed me because everyone is awful all the time. So I hopped companies and ended up with my current gig.”

You could barely remember how you ended up leaving the room with him.

Let it be known that you were not a fan of one night stands. The idea of sharing bodily fluids with absolute strangers triggered your fight or flight response. But somehow, you were able to make an exception for Bucky Barnes as you all fumbled into the elevator and out into his darkened room.

The reason you were here was forgotten as soon as Bucky had his hands on you. Roaming around and exploring what made you tick. He seemed apprehensive about using his metal arm to touch you so you pulled it forward to join the other one. It was a welcome reprieve considering the rest of him was just so hot and the metal was so cool.

He used those same fingers to bring you over the edge twice before he got his mouth on you. The same mouth you were raving about earlier with those plump lips and a tongue that drove you crazy. A tongue that lashed against your most sensitive parts before his mouth came down and sucked hard, drawing agonizing moans from you.

He pulled away before you came again, face covered in you and gave you a winning smile. You didn’t return his grin, just further down until you were eye level with his twitching cock. Thick and begging for your lips wrapped around it. You couldn’t fit all of him in your mouth so you took what you could, hollowing your cheeks and sucking while your hand did the rest. His flesh arm came to rest gently in your hair as he bucked into your mouth, letting the smallest moans escape his lips. A peek up at him and his eyes were closed, head back as he savored the feeling of your mouth around him.

You pulled away and ran your tongue up the base of his cock. Bucky helped you to your feet and laid you across his bed. You laid there, legs open and waiting while he fished through his drawer for a condom.

When he finally pushed into you, you made a noise you didn’t even know you were capable of. There was just so much of him and you hadn’t gotten laid in a while. You ran your hands up and down his perfectly sculpted body. The bed creaked from the force of his thrusts.

The whole super soldier thing hadn’t really registered with you until now. He took you like no other man ever had.

In the aftermath of your sexcapades, the two of you were laid back on the bed, just trying to catch your breath. You glanced over at Bucky and smiled. He gave you a shy smile and looked down, making you giggle a bit.

Then your phone rang. The momentary bliss was over as you reached for your purse on the floor and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Did you leave me?!” Carter.

“No, no! I’m still here, I’ll come find you. Did you get the interview?” you asked.

“Yes! And I had to go through Natasha Romanoff to get it and nearly pissed myself so I am ready to leave!”

“Okay, just wait in the lobby for me. I’ll be down soon.”

When you hung up, you looked back at Bucky.

“I gotta go,” you said regretfully. He nodded.

“Your boss looking for you?”

“Yup,” you stood up, looking around for your clothes and Bucky did the same. When the two of you were dressed, he decided to walk you out.

Before you could hit the button for the elevator, Bucky was calling your name.

“I think I did this sorta backwards, but I have to ask. Could I get your number? I’d like to take you out sometime. If you want that, of course. You don’t have to—“

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“Of course!” You probably said it a little too quickly but he didn’t look deterred. He handed you his phone and you entered your contact info happily. When you gave his phone back, he tuned it in his pocket, leaving both of you to stare at each other.

Seeing him in the bright light of the hallway was honestly stunning. He was extremely attractive. And he had asked you out! Well, he asked for your number to ask you out. Either way, you were happy.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you tsked at him.

“A kiss on the cheek? You’re shy all of a sudden, that’s adorable.”

“You wanted something else?” he asked playfully. You shrugged, giving him a dopey smile.

“Maybe I—“

Your phone buzzed.

“Go get back to your boss. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Bucky said, pressing the button for the elevator. Before the doors opened, he pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips. You kissed him once more before hopping in the elevator.

On the way down you did a little happy dance.

This was absolutely a good day for you.

As soon as you stepped out, Carter ran over to you, cheeks flushed and his dark hair messy.

“I was so scared—wait, what happened to your hair? What have you been up to? Did you—“

“Uh. We have work in the morning. Let’s go.”

“You left with...someone while I was in there risking my life. If I wasn’t so impressed I would be mad, but you’re right, let’s go.”

“You’re being dramatic. Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t hurt you. In public.”

“You don’t know that!”

....

Masterlist // Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter solider x reader #marvel x reader

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