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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Pregnant Pause

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v (duh). Daddy Daryl + daddy!kink Daryl. Difficulties trying to conceive.

Note: Part 2 to Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk. I fully blame @murdadixon and the Blood Ties series for all the pregnancy-related one shots lately - veryyyy much in my Daddy Daryl era now 🫣💓💘

If trying to get knocked up was an Olympic sport, you would’ve won the gold.

On the merits of your efforts alone you and Daryl probably should’ve had several hundred babies under your belt by now. Thousands. The past six months had been nothing but babymaking, a steady stream of rawdog bedroom rodeos and two-person pushups being your primary form of sustenance. But, try as you might, there wasn’t so much as a whiff of a kid in sight after all this time. You were starting to lose hope.

When, one month, your period didn’t make its usual appearance two days after the time it was meant to, you were over the moon with excitement.

Swinging one leg over Daryl’s sleeping form to straddle him in bed, you leaned down and shook him hard.

“Daryl!” you hissed, pinching him under his shirt.

The man below you grunted, shuffled, and blinked uncertainly up at you before slowly raking his eyes over your body and starting to smirk.

“Climb on, cowgirl,” he purred, already starting to tug your panties down.

Your hands quickly covered his and stalled their movements, a giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Not that, not that!” you whispered, “I’m late.”

“Fer what?” Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand.

“My period.”

Daryl’s gaze darted back to yours. A beat as he processed what you meant.

“No shit?”

“Shit.” You were nodding, beaming.

Daryl hauled himself to his feet in a second, taking you with him. Then he slipped you onto the floor and raced you to the door, practically fighting you through the threshold of the bathroom to get to the cupboards first.

Together, you flung cabinet doors open far and wide and went foraging for little blue boxes in somewhat of a frenzy. Daryl was chucking pads and tampons and rolls of toilet paper over his shoulder while you stuck yourself waist-deep in another stuffy wooden space, searching in earnest for that stupid Clearblue logo.

“Got it!” Daryl chirped. You almost smacked your head on the sink coming out so fast.

“Yeah?!”

Daryl thrust a blue-and-white stick in your direction, grinning with pride.

Your eyes narrowed just a little. Your stomach sank.

“Daryl, that’s a thermometer.”

Your boyfriend’s mouth hung slightly ajar in an ‘o’ shape, and you couldn’t even be mad at his attempt.

Trying to hide your dismay, you sighed and told him to keep looking. You crawled back over to the cupboard and felt a gentle coil just then start to take shape in your stomach—whether that might’ve been a real-life baby or another burst of anxious nerves, you couldn’t be sure. You and Daryl continued to comb over the boxes and bottles lined across your shelves.

That was how your day had started. It continued, at present, outside a largely dilapidated Target Superstore, with your hands on your hips and your eyes scanning a sea of the undead that occupied its front entrance. Shit was worse than any Black Friday crowd you’d ever seen.

“You sure you don’t wanna check the Walgreens?” you asked, tightening your grip on the rifle in your hands.

“Place was overrun last time I checked. Got a camp of military types stationed nearby too. Best ta leave ‘em be,” Daryl answered.

You suspected if anyone came across the two of you now they’d be put off just the same—with the AK-47 in your arms and the crossbow/M4 Carbine combo on Daryl’s person, you probably looked every bit as lethal as you’d ever been.

All for an itty bitty pee stick and some snacks.

You sat down on one of the red cement balls to your left and crossed your arms. You watched the herd. If there was just some way to slip in, sight unseen, and sneak past their rotting bodies to get to the Sexual Wellness section, maybe rappel from the ceiling and drop dead on the spot, go in guns blazing or else just—”

“Mask it,” Daryl said, suddenly.

You raised an eyebrow but quickly had your curiosity quelled when Daryl nodded toward a throng of walkers down the way.

There were four or five of them stacked together, crushed between shopping carts and pinned, interminably, in place as they stood, hissed, and clawed in your general direction.

Daryl had a hatchet in hand in a second. You watched, enthralled, as he made lightning quick work of the walkers, hacking off their arms, dismantling their jaws, and slinging rope around their bodies like they were little more than a miniature herd of cattle. He came back smiling, probably thinking to himself how proud Michonne would be if she could see him now.

“Here,” he hummed. He passed over the rope attached to two jawless walkers like they were pets on a leash.

You accepted it and joined him as he walked, eyeing your newly-tripled group with a curious look.

“Should we—” you started.

“Not naming them,” Daryl said before you could finish.

The six of you trudged along a path of broken glass and steered toward one of the semi-shattered doors. Your stomach started to twist when the sounds of the groaning walkers within reached your ears.

“’S’okay. Nothin’s gonna hurt us with these ugly fucks around,” Daryl murmured to you, glancing back at the doe-eyed, mutilated geeks at your rear.

You nodded silently and followed his lead. The pair of you were practically halfway through the entrance now, making your way past piles of debris and gradually drawing closer to the hissing mob inside. You eyed the looming horde, chewed the inside of your cheek, and yanked your brand new friends a little closer.

And, like magic, the herd hardly stirred when you approached the perimeter. A few parted ways enough to give you entry and, when you’d stepped inside, proceeded to close right back around as if you were one of their own. Not a single snarling mouth or clouded eye turned your way as you and Daryl shuffled ahead, mimicking their moans and hisses and occasionally trading looks as if to say, ‘No fucking way this is working.’

You carried on. Followed by sight where streams of light went pouring in through the caved-in ceiling. Even looked to a couple worn and faded aisle numbers and quickly learned you were much closer than you thought.

You slowed your pace.

“Condoms, 2:00,” you whispered, trying to direct Daryl’s attention to the right.

The pregnancy tests were always stationed somewhere near the condoms—like a warning, you thought. You never could’ve imagined you’d be so happy to see that silent admonition in your life, now, as you and Daryl sidled over to the scattered rows of sexual wellness products and took a closer look.

Daryl reached down, seized a box, and held it up to you.

“Nope. Ovulation test,” you shook your head.

Another.

“Pantyliners.”

“Goddamn, how many pussy products do y’all need?” Daryl groaned, stepping aside to let you check the shelves yourself.

You found a pregnancy test in four seconds flat. You chucked the box his way and grabbed half a dozen more.

Internally, you would’ve loved to celebrate this momentous occasion, but rationally, you knew there were several hundred flesh-eating horrors just waiting for you to fuck up and serve yourselves on a platter a stone’s throw away. Moreover, you were ill at ease—almost fearful—of the result you might get from the tests. After six months of setbacks and cyclic, habitual frustration, you almost didn’t want to know one way or another. You weren’t fit to face another disappointment.

When your gaze flitted to Daryl’s, you saw his expression had softened. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and cradled your head to his chest.

“Don’t matter what the test says,” he murmured into your hair, stroking it softly, “’m gonna put a damn baby in ya if it’s the last thing I do.”

You surprised yourself by bursting into laughter, not tears, on his front, trying to stifle the sounds in his shirt as he hugged you tighter. You squeezed him back, held him close, and almost forgot your four drooling companions and the many more still prowling about the store. You turned your head up to Daryl.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too.”

Daryl leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He probably meant it to be a peck, nothing more than a second or two, but when you pulled him in and really kissed him back, he didn’t mind at all.

He walked you back into a shelf, pushed your body as careful as he could so as not to disturb any items behind you. You brought a hand to his hair and threaded it tight through your fingers, prompting the smallest of groans between you. Daryl stepped a little closer.

The second your tongue breached the seal of his lips, you felt a hand slide down to your backside and nudge you up a little, so you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your tongues delved deeper, hands roamed further, and moans took on a volume that likely wasn’t safe at all for your current surroundings. Your four gummy-mouthed comrades stood as silent and still as ever.

“Wanna— have another go for good measure?” you muttered against Daryl’s lips. Hips grinding with his against all your better judgment.

“Couldn’t...hurt,” Daryl groaned in return.

Undoubtedly, it could do more than just hurt you—if those walkers sniffed you out, they’d kill you—but, as it was, neither of your hormone-charged bodies had the presence of mind to say any differently. You and Daryl shed clothes quicker than either of you could comprehend and, within a minute, were back on each other with another flurry of quick, frantic kisses.

Daryl gripped your bare hips, pinned them to the shelf, and almost cursed in your mouth when the whole damn thing threatened to give way.

In a blink, he’d grabbed the metal behind you and was slowly, desperately trying to yank it back while you cast a look around you.

Nothing roaming nearby. At least as far as you could see.

You shifted as though you were going to slide out of Daryl’s arms, but he just drew you closer. Once he’d righted the shelf, he secured his arm underneath you and grinned.

“Wanna take this someplace a little more private?”

You nodded and motioned toward the big ‘Rx’ sign at the end of the aisle. Daryl followed your gaze.

The pharmacy counter would have to do.

You were propped up against the cool surface in no time at all—right after Daryl had tied the walkers to a nearby pole—and suddenly you felt warmth all around. In spite of your nearly stark naked stature, you were enveloped by Daryl’s body, pressed flush against the counter and feeling his touch run every which way he pleased. He kissed, licked, and sucked every supple inch of your skin and acted like it was the first time he’d tasted you in ages. Like it wasn’t last night, and the morning before that, and every day preceding that he’d gotten his fill.

Daryl watched with eyes that drank you in like a novelty, and somewhere deep within you both, you knew you needed this now.

You hardly had a moment’s time to think before Daryl was thrusting inside you. Laying you flat on your back and fucking you hard against the counter with your legs draped over either one of his shoulders.

Daryl fought back a moan when your walls first welcomed him, slow at first, but maddening all the same. You felt a hand drift to your neck and seize it at the base, saw Daryl lean in a little and say, through gritted teeth,

“Tha’s my good girl— take daddy’s cock.”

You whimpered in response, feeling him rut his hips even harder. Daryl squeezed your throat as he did, and, seeing how much you loved it, held it there as long as you could take it before you came gasping for air.

He’d fill you to the hilt, pull out, and do it all again, quietly moaning your name as he pumped in and out.

“Fuck, Daryl, I— fuck,” you tried, and failed, to speak a coherent sentence as the archer picked up speed.

“Wha’s’at, honey? Ya say sumn’?” Daryl pried, pretending like he wasn’t already sending you straight to the brink of orgasm with the force of each stroke.

You hummed in an effort to conceal your moan but ended up letting loose an even louder sound, punctuated by something of a shriek when Daryl delivered a particularly hard blow. You clamped a hand over your mouth and watched Daryl shoot a look over his shoulder. Then he turned back, smirking.

“Didn’t quite catch tha’, honey,” he managed between ragged thrusts, “Wanna moan a little louder so the whole fuckin’ store can hear?”

You shot him a look as if to say, ‘Get fucked’—then pulled him even deeper with your fingers wrapped fast around his forearms. Daryl hardly seemed fazed, simply dropping a hand between your legs and offering another shit-eating grin when your body jolted under his touch.

“Feel good, baby?” he hummed.

You nodded and whimpered. Couldn’t help but clench when he leaned forward and angled your legs higher. Daryl let out a throaty moan.

“Gonna cum f’me?”

Before you could answer, he lowered himself even closer, ‘til your legs were all the way up by your ears and your body was chock-full of pleasure, all but brimming with tears. You tried to nod, found that you could scarcely move, and felt Daryl cup your face in his hand as he continued to fuck you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip,

“Cum fer daddy, then. Cum all over this cock.”

Daryl knew he didn’t need to tell you twice. In a matter of seconds he felt you come undone beneath him, hands gripping him tight and walls clenching even harder. He caught your lips in a sloppy kiss, tried to quiet your moans, but found himself chasing that high not too long after. He spilled his seed inside you and watched your face contort with pleasure—not from your climax alone, but that pure, primal feel of his warmth spreading out deep within you.

The two of you parted, panted, and grinned in each other’s faces like that wasn’t the single dumbest, and most dangerous, fuck you’d had in your entire lives.

You didn’t need to exchange a word; you knew you shared identical thoughts. Daryl squeezed your thigh.

Twenty minutes later, with your walker quartet in tow, you paced a nervous path back and forth before your car in the parking lot. On the hood sat half a dozen, urine-soaked pregnancy tests with the screens facing down. You stopped and turned to Daryl, eyes locking on his.

“Ready?”

“Flip ‘em.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut

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sylusjinwoon · 5 months ago

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{ 177 }

the prince and the pauper.

historical romance | fairytale au

prince!jinwoo sung x commoner!fem.reader

you were traveling with your younger brother, trying to survive as you took refuge within the forest after the passing of your parents.

never one to know the joys and luxury of having a stable home with enough riches to keep you and your sibling well-fed, it was a struggle for you to maintain a carefree attitude-

but alas, you had to keep your head held high, for your darling brother was relying on you. since your parents passing, you had to leave them behind, burying them beneath the harsh ground to the best of your abilities while soothing your brother's tears.

despite how hopeless you felt being left alone with such a heavy burden of trying to survive with your brother, you knew that if it wasn't for his presence in your life, then you would have given up and tossed yourself within your parent's graves a long time ago.

all sense of time had become lost on you, with you and your brother continuing to live within the depths of the forest whilst surviving on meager meals of nuts and berries. and moments where you manage to use what little hunting skill you had to bring back a small fowl or a handful of fish were few and far in between.

and during moments when nature's elements were truly testing your chances of survival (from harsh rain that made your ragged clothes dirty and the cold chill that would envelope your form), you felt your sense of confidence dwindling down-

which was what pushes you to your breaking point.

a sense of desperation fills you, and just when you lost all hope, you heard some commotion settled several feet away from you and your brother's current resting spot. the scent of a roaring fire coupled along with some boyish laughter makes your ears perk up in response.

you look back at your brother, seeing him still sleeping peacefully against the tree's trunk, exhausted and completely unaware of the men who set up camp just a mere stone's throw away. he appeared gaunt from the days spent going without food as a wave of love further fills you with a determination.

taking off your dirtied shawl, you place it over your brother and give him a whispered promise of your return. your eyes trail toward the blazing flames and the scent of smoke, padding your bare feet across the dirt path as you made sure to remain hidden within the foliage.

after several seconds spent walking, the sounds of laughter grew even louder as you hid behind a tree, turning your gaze toward the two men that were currently speaking to one another. thanks to the light of the roaring fire, you could see their armors shining from it. you assumed that these two men were knights that had just finished their hunts for the day.

while observing, you take note of one of the knights, noticing his sandy brown hair and boisterous voice that echoes throughout the forest. his armor was bathed in gold and silver, making your eyes water from how gaudy it all appeared. looking away from the talkative knight, you trail your eyes toward his companion-

only to feel your breath get stolen away.

settled directly in front of the bright knight was another young man who appeared to be his exact opposite. whereas the knight with the sandy brown hair was the sun, this other knight was more like the moon. his long, ebony locks of hair seemed to be the same shade as a moonless night, and had it not been for the flames settled directly beside him, you would have missed the startling grey quality of them.

his eyes are like moonlight. you muse to yourself, wondering why you felt a strange sense of familiarity at the mere sight of him.

as you raked through your brain for a viable explanation, you were suddenly brought back to a memory of your parents, back when they were alive and well while you were in your teens as your brother had barely been 5 years old. they spoke about the kindness of the king and queen of ahjin kingdom and had high hopes of moving there to bask in their reign.

they spoke of the prince and princess of the kingdom and how they were achingly beautiful-

and somehow, you just knew that this dark knight was also the crowned prince of ahjin- jinwoo sung.

your breathing becomes labored with anticipation, watching as the golden knight pours what appeared to be sweetened wine within the prince's chalice.

"my prince, are you certain it was a wise choice to leave our steed behind at the castle?" the golden knight asks the prince, earning a rich chuckle from him.

"what's this, jinho? i thought you were much braver than what i assumed. we are not too far away from thy castle, and mother wishes for us to find worthy game for the morrow's feast. i see no issue with leaving our mounts behind to rest. it shall be an easy feat that can be done when dawn arrives."

the sight of prince jinwoo's smile and laughter was enough to make your knees go a little weak in response. never before had you seen such a devastating man. in all of your 20-some years of living, he was by far the most magnificent man you had ever laid eyes on.

forcing yourself to look away from the prince and his knight, you press your back against the hard wood of the tree. you waited for the prince to drain his wine while hearing the other man, jinho, let out a yawn.

"tis best we get some rest, my prince. i can feel the sweet ale coursing through me, and i believe i shall have pleasant dreams tonight."

you listen as the prince hums in agreement, hearing the shuffling and gentle clanks of their armor before retiring back into their makeshift tents for the night. when only the sounds of flickering flames were heard did you finally make your move.

creeping closer to the encampment, you saw two tents, making note of how the one on the right had to have housed the golden knight. snores were heard coming from such a tent as you made your way to the one settled to your left.

holding your breath, you inch inside of the tent to see the dark outline of the prince in a peaceful slumber. he makes no movement, with his long, black hair fanned out beneath him against the dirt ground. a sense of bewilderment fills you at how lackluster his lodging was. you saw no thick blankets made of wolfskin surrounding him, or even a simple pillow filled with feathers. the prince simply lay peacefully with his hands folded across his abdomen, a silk shirt with matching pants covering him as his suit of armor lay in a neat pile next to him.

feeling as though you finally had some luck on your side, you crept closer to his suit of armor and decided to search through it. perhaps he had a piece of jewelry or a gold chain that you could sell for a handsome price?

despite the thought of you stealing something left your stomach in a twist of knots, just the thought of being able to feed you and your brother well with the earnings was enough to push you forward.

just as your hand touched at the gauntlets, you felt a sudden shift in the air before something sharp and cold was pressed against the base of your throat.

"what's this...? a little thief i see."

you were given no time to react, feeling a large hand gripping at the back of your shirt as you were suddenly tossed out into the midst of the campsite. the light blazing from the fire gives you the perfect view of prince jinwoo's handsome face twisted with fury and anger at you.

the sliver tip of his dagger was pressed against your throat, and you were certain that this was how you were to meet your demise. a rightfully furious prince had caught you trying to steal from him, and he was going to show no mercy while cutting off your throat-

yet, oddly enough, such acts of violence never came.

you didn't allow yourself the luxury to breathe, simply staring up at the prince with wide eyes as you saw his expression change from anger to something else entirely- something much softer; something much kinder.

he drops the dagger from your throat, using his large hand to brush back your tangled hair while wiping a bit of the grime seen on your face away. his lips were parted, and just as he leaned down closer to you-

you heard your brother calling out your name.

"DON'T TOUCH MY SISTER!" your eyes go wide as you faced your right, seeing your brother with several rocks within his grasps as he found one to aim at the prince.

you gasp, wishing to tell your brother that you were alright and to not hurt the prince. yet despite how much your brother wished to attack prince jinwoo, an almost amused smile paints his features.

"oh no you don't, little one." the prince's knight, jinho, manages to grab a hold of your brother's collar, nearly ripping apart his paper thin shirt when the prince barks at his knight, "let him go."

jinho's eyes go wide, yet still, he listens to his prince and sets your brother back down on the ground. anxiety and fear were seen painted across your brother's features, and you quickly got off the ground to go to him.

you take your brother within your tight embrace, putting on a brave facade while looking back and forth between jinho and prince jinwoo. neither men looked particularly angry, but you were still running on adrenaline, uncertain of what fate had in store for you.

"my prince, what shall we do with the thieves?"

the prince simply holds out a hand to jinho, meeting you and you brother's gaze with grey eyes that were filled with tranquility. "what are your names?"

swallowing thickly, you relinquish both you and your brother's name, an apology on the tip of your tongue, yet the intensity of prince jinwoo's gaze stops you from speaking any further.

"and just how old are you?"

"i-i believe i am near my twentieth year with my brother being ten years my junior..."

"hn, i see. not much older than me and my own sister."

he snaps his fingers at jinho, "they are coming with us."

your eyes go wide as jinho was heard proclaiming his protests, "surely you cannot be serious my lord! they tried to rob you-"

"i see nothing more than two orphans that are trying to survive." the prince's voice echoes with clarity across the expanse of the forest, the solemn expression within his gaze already making jinho keep his mouth shut.

"we shall take them back with us, and they will become servants for me and jinah respectively."

your mind had gone hazy as your brother clings to you, his eyes appearing wary as the crowned prince of ahjin brings you both back on your feet. a wistful smile paints his handsome features, and you felt the air escaping your lungs in uneven breaths at the sight. "come, the harsh forest is no place for kind souls such as yourselves..."

and with those final words from prince jinwoo, you and your brother returned with him back to his castle, your futures now looking less bleak...

{ ... }

to say you were quite joyful at the fact that ahjin's king and queen were both extremely kind would be an understatement. once jinwoo had allowed you and your brother's dirtied form within the comfort of the castle, he allows you to tell your story to his parents.

after admitting to the king and queen of your own parents' passing due to a sudden illness, their deep gazes were filled with empathy for you and your brother, welcoming you both as part of their staff. as the queen takes you and your brother to the closest washroom, jinwoo was seen speaking to his father in hushed tones.

you and your brother were quickly stripped of your ragged clothes, with the king and queen's own maids placing you both in a wooden bath filled with lukewarm waters. it had been freshly prepared by the queen's gentle demands, and not enough time had passed for the waters to warm up in the fireplace.

but you nor your brother dared to complain after receiving such generosity. as the maids helped you and your brother become cleaner, washing away the dirt and grime that was caked on to your skin while lathering your hair with wonderfully scented soaps that captured the essence of wildflowers growing beneath the summer's sunshine-

you were in absolute heaven.

once you were both completely cleaned, the maids had given you some clothes to wear. you nearly cried upon feeling the soft material covering the expanse of your body, no longer itching as you felt as though you had been reborn once more.

you figured that would be the end of such kindness, with you thanking the king and queen (and their son) for their generosity. however, when the maids lead you to the grand dining hall where several dishes were laid out for you and your brother to indulge in.

your brother, being so young, immediately charges toward the food, biting into the roasted turkey leg while soaking up the soft bread with the juices surrounding it. your own stomach was felt growling in response, but admittedly, you felt overwhelmed with the sheer amount of kindness.

a gentle hand felt against your back forces you to come closer to the dining area, with you looking back to see prince jinwoo smiling down at you. "don't be shy, eat."

he pulls out the chair for you, giving your brother a gentle smile while ruffling his hair. realizing your shocked state, jinwoo grabs what looks like a golden utensil, cutting apart the roasted meat while placing the morsel against your lips.

"say 'ah.'"

heat was felt dyeing your cheeks when you slowly parted your lips for him, your teeth biting down against the savory piece. you had to bite back a moan in response, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

another light chuckle was heard coming from the prince. "is it good?"

"i- yes... it's the most delicious meal i've ever had."

"delicious enough to make you cry?" he notices your tears and gently begins wiping them away with his hand, making a tiny whimper escape from you. unable to speak, you decide to bask in their kindness along with your brother, eating such a filling supper as the prince made sure you both had your fill.

exhaustion was felt coursing through your veins, with your brother letting out a yawn as well. the prince notices how he was nodding off and casually carries him within his arms. you let out a weak protest, reassuring the prince that you could carry him, but he insisted. following close behind him with a look of embarrassment, you notice a light pair of footsteps coming from behind you.

looking back, you see a young girl with light brown hair and matching eyes, calling out to the prince, "big brother, you promised that i would get to play with a new friend soon."

your heart melted at the sight of her cute face and matching voice, seeing the tears fill her vision as a pretty pout paints her lips. prince jinwoo was about to say something to his little sister, but you end up speaking first, kneeling down to her level while reassuring her.

"you will be able to play with a new friend soon. my little brother will happily keep you company. but for now, he needs to rest a bit to regain his strength."

the young princess looks up at you with bright eyes while giving you an eager nod.

and while you spoke to princess jinah, you were unaware of how the prince's gaze was filled with a fondness for you and your kindness, falling for you almost immediately as he vowed to always protect you.

{ ... }

five years has passed since that fateful night, and you were still known as prince jinwoo's sole servant as your brother filled a similar role with princess jinah with little complaint on his end. like jinwoo, the princess kept your brother by her side at all times, and you could see a beautiful friendship blossoming between them as they kept each other company while growing up together.

and while they grew closer, so did you and prince jinwoo-

but in your case, it was a bit more unfortunate, for with each day that passes, you found yourself falling deeply in love with the prince.

despite your best efforts to keep yourself from falling for such an amazing man, you truly could not help it. for not falling for him was as difficult as climbing up a steep mountain, leaving your hands bloodied and bruised as you willed your heart to not yearn for him-

it was so easy, so incredibly easy, to follow your heart and ignore the rationalities of your mind. you knew of the great difference in statuses between you and prince jinwoo.

whereas prince jinwoo was heir to a throne- whose future was basked in brightness as he was meant to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom, you were just a mere servant meant to obey him for the rest of your life.

after all, prince jinwoo had graciously saved you and your brother from an ill-known fate. had you tried to live off the forest any longer, you were certain that you would have both met your demise due to how difficult it was to survive all alone during such a harsh period of your lives.

however, the prince's kindness only served as a double-edged sword to you, making you fall completely and utterly in love with him. even if it took you a herculean effort to keep your feelings from coming forth from your perfectly parted lips, you had to swallow back such desires, remaining miserable as talk of his marriage to a beautiful princess with golden hair and grey eyes echoed across the castle of ahjin kingdom.

such news put you in a bit of a depressive slump, with your steps losing its bounce as you followed prince jinwoo dutifully from behind. he had woken up before the sun, taking brisk steps towards his father's study when he stops. turning around, he faces you while calling out your name.

you shiver upon hearing it, basking in the way jinwoo's voice spoke the syllables that made up your name with such warmth that it made your heart ache.

"yes, my prince?"

he shakes his head, tilting his lips up in a wry smile when he takes a strand of your hair with his hand. your eyes go wide, seeing this as evident as one of the ways to express his gratitude for you. he admires your hair for a few more beats before pressing a kiss against the strands. "go on and help with the cooks in the kitchen. i have something dire i wish to discuss with my father, and i will join you shortly."

never one to disobey your beloved prince, you simply give him a smile and a curtsy, excusing yourself before heading toward the kitchen. you greet the other servants along the way, catching bits and pieces of their gossip.

"did you hear? prince jinwoo wishes to call off his long engagement to princess hae-in."

you did a double take, nearly running into the wall when a powerful hand stops you. "ah, my dear, just who i wished to see."

you look forward to see an old man with grey hair and deep set eyes the color of a forest. he was the head cook for the royal family as he takes a hold of your shoulders and leads you into the kitchen, "i would like your help in preparing tonight's supper. if you could be so kind as to help everyone cut up the vegetables for the stew while baking fresh rolls."

your mind was racing, and you did your best to complete each task in the kitchen with a steady hand. yet the words of gossip refused to leave the confines of your mind, and you kept going back to those lingering words.

jinwoo wishes to call off the engagement with the princess? but why? she's a renown beauty... she would have been fit to be his wife...

your heart was pounding as you slowly began to organize each freshly cut vegetables into their own separate piles. as you mulled over the words, a strange sense of hope begins to fill you.

perhaps, he didn't wish to take a wife after all... he would remain single-

and you could remain by his side as his sole servant.

despite how much you knew that such rumors could end up being false, you could not stop yourself from smiling so freely. if such rumors ended up being true-

then you could forever remain by prince jinwoo's side.

before you could help the cooks add the vegetables into the large cauldron, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your front prevents you from moving forward. you look back to see your prince gazing fondly at you, letting out a dramatic sigh as he takes you away from the kitchen.

"i feel weary and tired after discussing important matters with my father. please, prepare a bath for me and wipe the sweat away from my brow."

your heart begins to race at the thought of preparing a bath for prince jinwoo. it was true that you had prepared thousands upon thousands of baths for your prince-

however, this would be the first time he had ever asked you to stay.

shaking your head to prevent any impure thoughts from entering them, you give your prince a nod along with your words of affirmation, "y-yes, of course, my prince."

jinwoo simply hums, placing a hand behind your back as he leads you to one of the many washrooms his castle held. with graceful steps, you enter the room and expertly lit a fire within the fireplace, moving the bathtub a bit closer to the flames before going towards one of the walls.

the king had expertly hired several masons to build his castle in the most convenient way possible. you no longer had to fetch buckets upon buckets of water from the well outside of the castle as now the waters flowed into the castle. each washroom had a stone trough filled with water, and whether such a convenient invention was man-made or made through magical means, you couldn't say for sure.

all you knew was that this was simply one of the many things that made your life a bit easier.

so you spent several minutes going back and forth, filling the wooden bathtub to the brim with as much water you could manage until prince jinwoo stops you. with your back turned to him, you dropped the wooden pail back within the water filled trough, only facing him when he calls out your name.

upon hearing a tiny splash!, you had to bite back a gasp, seeing prince jinwoo's toned chest submerged within the waters as it fell back into the cobblestone floors. he lets out a purr upon feeling the waters against his skin all while beckoning you to come closer to him.

"grab that cloth while taking off your garments, my darling."

you swore that you felt your heart pounding against the confines of your throat just then, leaving you breathless when you shakily ask him, "but, why would you ever need me to take off my garments, prince jinwoo?"

he rolls his eyes, gaze darkening just the tiniest bit when he tells you huskily, "how else is my darling girl going to get into this tub to wash every inch of me?"

the hesitation and shyness was evident in your gaze and heated face, with jinwoo breaking out into a smile. "come now, you have never denied me before. are you truly denying me right now?"

letting out a shaky sigh, you even out your breath before dropping the fabric of your clothes, leaving you completely bare for your prince. with the cloth in hand, you were ready to climb into the tub had it not been for jinwoo's large hands coming around your waist, using his strength to pick you up as you entered the tub with him.

the waters splashed violently around you with your added weight, making the heat dye your cheeks even more. your lips were parted, being met with prince jinwoo's amused gaze as he lay back against the tub.

"go on, wash your prince." he tells you with a sigh, closing his eyes as he waited for you to go on with your duties.

your heart was practically a mess by now, racing so badly that it made your hands tremble in response. you place the cloth within the bathwater before gently working on cleansing jinwoo's body. his skin remained so perfect and clear, leaving you mesmerized as you could feel his powerful body pressing against your softer frame.

when the tip of your cloth touches at the corner of his lips, you were struck with a sudden urge to kiss them; to finally feel such soft fullness against your very own lips. yet somehow, even despite the situation you found yourself in (completely naked with your prince's godlike body settled beneath the waters with you), you manage to reign in your desires and ask him.

"is it true?"

jinwoo hums once more before opening an eye to look at you, "is what true, my dear?"

you look away from him, feeling jinwoo slowly wrapping his arms around your naked back when you blurt out to him, "that you called off your engagement to princess hae-in."

you felt your prince stiffen in response momentarily to the question before visibly relaxing. he proceeds to run his hands up and down your bare back before taking you within his powerful embrace.

left gaping and filled with anticipation, you felt jinwoo press a kiss against your cheek, never once straying too far from your skin as he finds your ear to whisper against them, "why yes, it is completely and utterly true. and do you know why i called off such a pointless engagement?"

you clench your eyes shut, feeling your hands become fists against jinwoo's chest, "w-why did you call it off."

a gasp was felt escaping from you when he bites down against the shell of your ear, "because a certain thief stole my heart one night five years ago; a beautiful thief that tried to rob me, but ended up obtaining my complete and utter devotion in return."

your eyes go wide when prince jinwoo suddenly surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that takes your very breath away. due to your inexperience, you kissed him back shyly, earning a smile from him.

he playfully licks at the front of your lips before moving away from you. with grey eyes shining with mirth and adoration for you, he runs a hand across your damp hair. "the moment i first saw you, seeing your steadfast gaze on me despite how i had my dagger pressed dangerously close to your throat, i knew that i had to keep you- that i had to have you."

your mind was spinning now. was this really happening? had your life truly turned into this fairytale that you did not wish to awaken from?

"oh, jinwoo...! i-i loved you, too! ever since i was subjected to your unconditional kindness, i knew that i would forever be devoted to you!"

you fall against him, allowing jinwoo to wrap his arms protectively around your frame, "i thought it would be enough to serve you for the rest of my life, b-but to actually have you as my lover, it has been my greatest dream...!"

jinwoo chuckles once more, placing a hand beneath your chin as his gaze burns a bright silver hue for you, "oh, my darling love, the dream has only just begun. for you will not simply be my lover, but my future queen and wife as well. i have made sure to claim you and you alone for that title."

your gasp was quickly swallowed by another one of jinwoo's kisses, with you practically melting against him as you both made a never-ending oath to each other-

that no matter what the future may bring, you shall always remain by his side; a devoted queen that lives to serve and love her beloved king.

a.n. - omggggg this is so self indulgent! i recently began reading a historical romance trilogy, and became so infatuated with the storytelling and writing that i had to write something for jinwoo due to my inspired state! 😭😭😭😭 my desire to write always comes to me in the dead of night, so this will definitely be posted when it's early morning where i live. this is currently unedited, but i hope you readers enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #.stories

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springsylph · 6 months ago

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// lucky charm

low honor!arthur morgan x female reader. mdni. dub-con fondling. i typed this on my phone and she’s unedited and and and and—

arthur knows dutch has his eye on you.

he’s got you by your elbow when he drags you back from the parlour house out in rhodes to meet the gang. assuages the concerns of having another mouth to pile food into with a long-winded account of your potential for pocket nibbling. you’d have nearly bested him, he says, if not for his reflexes. but arthur gets the feeling that it’s another one of his embellishments when you turn your cheek to look at a patch of dirt.

by the time he’s done, most have had enough time to take in the waxy pallor, the fact that you’ve been traveling alone, because what lady travels alone in these parts? in any parts? so the girls—save for molly—crowd in, pull your gills from his hook and shuffle you off to change you out of those dirty clothes before that wax starts to melt.

dutch is your second shadow around camp after that. telling you how smart you are for listening to his advice. smart is in short supply these days, apparently. he whispers it to you one night over the barrel that doubles as a table and a den for his rum.

(expensive—always expensive at night.)

he mentions that he saw you reading earlier, that’s good; it’ll be real helpful for something he’s got planned later. haven’t touched your rum, he reminds you. pushes the golden liquid toward your limp hand. it’s the good stuff—don’t tell mrs. grimshaw. oh, you don’t drink? no, no, that’s alright. fine by him. so he dumps what he’s poured into your glass into his while you take a dry gulp. he asks if you’ve got any family, pushes his knee just between where one of yours hugs the barrel, and the night noises seem to get louder.

not a one? oh, you poor thing—

and by this point, arthur’s already stuffed the heel of his hand into his ear to block out what he can and go to sleep. molly’ll pull dutch away at some point, anyhow.

so yes. arthur knows dutch has his eye on you.

(it’s just, he’s not quite sure he likes dutch right now.

but he loves a good joke.)

so when he catches you trying to put bullets through empty bottles out in the woods a week later, he crawls into your space. says looking pretty wont get you that shot.

you make it almost too easy for him. arthur watches as you shrink, and expand, and shrink again. you’re tripping over your sentences, and he thinks you bite the inside of your cheek one too many times, but you make him a deal: three bottles down in 15 seconds, and he has to take you out on a supply run.

your plan goes to shit, of course.

but arthur is nothing if not benevolent, so he brings you along anyways. tells you to stay close. no, a little closer than that. s’your head screwed on backwards, girl?

he’s not sure how you’ve managed to make it out here so long, so when he presses a searing palm to your lower back, brings you into his side, it’s with the careful consideration of someone that knows the kind of danger you’ll be in if you stray too far.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when your back is pressed to a wall of crates while shots are firing to your left, opposite shoulder scraping up against the brick wall to your right.

it’s a little harder when he’s squeezing your knee just a little too tight. rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb so hard that you think the flesh underneath might purple if the two of you make it to tomorrow. another bullet pops from his revolver, and when he sits back his body is a little closer. hand a little farther in. you’re almost certain he can feel the muscles jumping under his palm, even through the bunched up fabric of your skirt.

eyes shut, you wait for the noise to pass. it’s silent. your breathing is loud in your nostrils, but it’s silent. you can hear the people that’d caught you stealing following some other noise, and you go lax. finally. let this be the last time you try and play rough. your weight is in your heels, prepped to rock forward and stand, but a rough hand skimming your slit sends a jolt of electricity up your neck.

when you turn to look at arthur, he looks none the wiser. if the arm connected to the hand at your cunt weren’t attached to his body, you might be inclined to believe him.

(shh, shh, darlin’. i know, i know. just keep real quiet for me, hm?)

each pass of his thumb has you arching, knocking your head up against brick. you don’t have to look to know that your lips are drooling onto the ground below, but christ does it feel good. he’s gathering your arousal on his fingers, and you’re pleading for something, though you’re not sure what, and you can’t quite recall if you say thank you or why, or if your hips are wriggling away or pushing downward,

because arthur is pulling his fingers away from you just as quickly as he’d put them on you. like he’s grown bored. the sheen on his fingers catches the midday sun as he cocks the hammer on his revolver. loops his fingers over the trigger.

you watch in a daze as he leans out around the crates. but the moment he’s got his target in his sights, his arm falls into that well-worn position once he takes aim.

he’s nice enough to toss a cursory glance at you over his shoulder.

“thanks for the good luck charm, doll.”

bang.

(it’s dark when the two of you return; you’re thankful for it when you have to hobble back to your bedroll on shaky legs. you think you hear dutch clap arthur on the back, ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing—)

#okay so now what #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2

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kekaki-cupcakes · 1 year ago

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Hiiii! How are you hanging?

Warning: periods? Not sure if it’s a warning. If it is or it makes you uncomfortable I am so so sorry it was not my intention

Could you write for Leo Valdez being his s/o’s biggest simp and like acting as heater and heating pad especially when she’s on her period and building her lots of gadgets for basically anything he thinks she may need?

Feel free to skip this obviously!

Sorry again and have a lovely day!

Bye! (Ps I have reade your Nike one for about 20 times now and it still is so fun and amazing! ‘Cant wait for the Hypnos one!)

I'm working on so much rn so this is just a short head canon list that sort of derailed but it was so cute to write. I'm glad you liked the Nike one, and the Hypnos fic was just posted I hope you find it <3

And period talk doesn't make me uncomfortable don't worry I'm fine with writing lots of that kind of stuff I just have like, limits with smut and age gap kind of stuff [I'm also a minor]

This header just gave me like, hot water bottle cover vibes and matched the rest of it too, hope you enjoy!

Hotboy/Hotpack---Leo V x gn reader on their period

»»————-　★　————-««

-No but like he’s literally perfect for the job

-Who else is better at laying down as a weighted blanket and heating himself up to perfect temperature and then just literally fiddling with rubix cubes while you use him as a hot water bottle

-He’d be so happy to as well, like it was the best job in the world [which it is to him, he gets cuddles as well as being a good boyfriend. It’s a win win]. Even if you didn’t ask, he’d catch you microwaving a wheat pack while you take painkillers in the camp kitchen and sneak up behind you and hug you. Or maybe he’d lay across the counter dramatically,

-‘mi amor are you replacing me? Why would you do this? I love you, and now there's other guys in your life!’

-‘it’s literally a hot water bottle’

-‘No! I must win you back!...Come on let’s go make out-’

-Then he’d take the hot water bottle away and smother you in kisses [if you felt like it] and drag you back to your cabin. He’d bring your favorite snacks and steal Pipers Ipad, the one with the hello kitty stickers, and you’d watch movies to pass the time.

-He’s the type to try those different rubbing points on your stomach to help with cramps [gods his hands are so fine, but that’s besides the point] and even if they didn’t work you’d get a massage out of it <3

-So we’ve all agreed Leo is the little spoon, right?

-He’d act so tough and macho, spooning you to heat up his hands on your stomach but then you rolled over in your sleep once and woke up to him grinning his head off while you hugged him

-Of course you figured it out and now you’re the big spoon because he’s just so small and cuddly, like a teddy bear [even if he’s a bit boney] and when you get cramps it works even better. He’s like a life sized heat pack pressed against you, and he always holds you hands as well because he’s just like that :D

-He has the softest curly hair when it isn’t covered in sawdust and grease, and when he lays his head on your chest or that little spot between your neck and your shoulder you could just run your hands through it. Or maybe put little plaits in it. He’d love that. Touch is definitely his love language, once he realizes he does deserve it, as well as gifts and acts of service.

-Gifts and acts of service is a subconscious thing for him that he doesn’t even realize he does and likes until he spots the shelf next to your bed filled with all the little things he’s made. Gold or silver jewelry [he quickly figured out which one was favorite through trial and error you didn’t even notice], little metal flowers he’d welded with his fingers, which were literally made with love. There’d be things like lollies and packets of gum he’d realized you liked and promptly bought when he went out, fairy lights he’d made in the shape of hearts, candles with your favorite scents he’d made from when Hazel had a wax-y crafts phase, and more.

-If you ever gave him something in return, he’d probably cry

-But he knows you love him and he definitely knows he loves you [as well as the rest of CHB lol]

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leovaldez #Leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #Leo valdez x gender neutral reader #reader on their period #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #but no y/n dw #lol

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pjoxreader · 2 years ago

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PJO Boys Helping With Reader's Period

Leo Valdez

-This man is a mechanical genius, he would make you anything and everything. Just say the word.

-So when he sees you hesitating about asking him for something he pokes and prods until you cave in, asking him to make you a heating pad.

-It takes a few seconds for the gears in his brain to turn before he gets it. “Ohhh! Yeah! Yeah! That’s no problem, I’m sure I can cook something up! Just give me a night!”

-There’s no way he wouldn’t drop everything if he knew your comfort was on the line.

-He’d go around and ask the other girls in camp about the sort of things that helped them with cramps.

-Sure enough the next morning he’d bring you a horribly wrapped gift with a sleepy grin, offering you the heating pad he made. It not only had different heat levels and wrapped around your entire body to help with lower back cramps, it also had multiple massaging functions.

-Please take a nap with him, after all that work he’d want nothing more.

Frank Zhang

-He tries so hard to be helpful. He really tries. It isn’t his fault that all the women in his family were very strong and independent.

-You once asked him to get you some pads. He ended up coming back with six different boxes and some tampons just in case.

-”...Frank…” you complain as he sets the all down on your bed, you could see his hesitance as he tries to figure out what he did wrong.

-”Did… Did I not get enough?” You can’t stay mad at him since he looked like a worried puppy.

-He ends up working on some basic tasks instead like getting your craving for you. That? That he can do.

-He’ll bring you anything from Hot coco, to your favorite chocolate or sweet. And if it’s very specific he’ll go to Nico to ask if he could shadow travel for it.

-He also keeps a little stash of some of your favorite snacks, just in case he isn’t able to get what you’re craving in time.

Percy Jackson

-Sally Jackson raised this man right. SHE RAISED HIM RIGHT.

-He carries around both tampons and pads, no questions asked for anyone who needs it. Not only is he naturally charming, he's genuinely a sweet guy.

-You accidently bleed through onto his bed? No worries he can just wash it. It isn’t the first time he’s had to get blood out of something.

-He’ll give you massages to help with your cramps. It doesn’t matter how long it takes as long as it helps you feel better.

-He claims it’s a good workout so he doesn’t mind doing it.

-Don’t expect to get anything yourself during your period. You need food? He’s on his way. Water? Already got it.

-When it’s time to sleep he’ll hold you close and gently rub circles into your hip and side, whispering loving words of affirmation. He knows your emotions could get a bit wild during this time of the month. He’s the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Jason Grace

-He’s clueless. He was raised by wolves after all and the time he was with his family he was too young to be informed about… That.

-At least the look of utter horror on his face is amusing. He looks down there as if you’d start spurting blood, face utterly pale.

-”But… Won’t you like… Bleed out or something?” he asks in utter concern.

-You have to try so hard to not laugh at him. Please set him down and borrow one of the Apollo kids books on the subject.

-He will 100% be staring in utter horror as if you’re explaining to him how to commit murder but he’s at least listening.

-He has a new respect for women now and to be honest he’ll be a bit scared of them for a while.

-He’ll go to the other girls of Argo ll to make sure that you weren’t just messing with him.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo x reader #pjo x reader fluff #pjo #hoo #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace x reader #fluff #pjo fluff

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lilyofthesword-writes · 2 months ago

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What Should Be - Part 2 (Batman)

Summary: You have a loving family, a cozy home, a great job - What more could a person ask for? But what do you do when an injured man dressed as a bat shows up in your home in the middle of the night?

Pairing: Batman x Reader (Platonic or Romantic)

Word Count: 1,013

Warnings/Disclaimers: Blood, injuries

Counterpart: Alchemy (Please read first)

Masterlist

“Babe, you okay? Did you not sleep?” your partner queried, setting a mug in front of you.

“Y-yeah. I just… just couldn’t stay away from my research, I guess.”

You gratefully grasped the handle. There was no way you could tell them. How could you tell them that a man dressed as bat was in your apartment who knew your name and just disappeared into thin air, that the symbol shining on the clouds afterward made the back of your mind itch so fervently it made sleep impossible, that you wound up curled up on the sofa staring out the window until dawn?

“Well, consider those bags under your eyes punishment,” they teased.

“Ha. Ha. Don’t you have an office to go to?”

“Don’t you?” they quipped.

You started to nod in the direction of the hall where your study lay when you noticed something. There was a third setting at the kitchen table, a third setting with a full plate of untouched food.

“Where’s Torrence?”

Your partner hummed in question. You only had eyes for the plate.

“I said, ‘Where’s Torrence?’”

“Umm, he’s at school,” they replied matter-of-factly.

You shook your head as if that would clear the fog that had into your mind. “But then why—”

“We were just downstairs like fifteen minutes ago to see him onto the bus. Don’t you remember?”

Right… You did that every morning. At least, that’s what your brain was telling you. So… Why couldn’t you recall any memories of doing so?

Your partner’s hand coaxed you to look at them. Their eyes swam with worry and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t catch anything from staying up late, did you?”

“Y-yeah, yeah…”

You pulled away, ready to ask a question about the food when the words lodged themselves in your throat. The plate was gone. It was as if it had never existed in the first place. And the mug? It was filled with a hot, viscous liquid akin to dirty oil. The putrid smell invaded and set up camp in your nostrils.

“Umm… Actually, I think I’m gonna lay back down for a bit,” you spoke airily, rising to your feet just a hair too fast.

Your partner was quick to rebalance you. “Do you— Do you want me to stay? I- I can call out and—”

“No!” you cut off their rambling. “No, it’s fine. It’s just some fatigue. A quick nap and I’ll be back to normal.”

They squeezed your shoulders in an act of reassurance, to ground you. All you felt were creepy-crawlies in the wake of their touch.

When your partner was finally out the door, you shivered and frantically rubbed your arms as though you were brushing bugs off your skin. Why had all this felt so wrong?

Yeah… Sleep was the best thing for you right now.

A rhythmic tap sounded from your window. You padded across the floor to answer. Drawing back the curtains, you found a different man in skin tight black and blue suit. It reminded you of a gymnast’s costume. The man perched on the fire escape expectantly. You opened the window.

“Thanks! Do you have a minute? I need to pick your brain.” He sounded cheerful, but there was an edge to it.

“I guess. Come on in,” you replied.

You stepped aside to allow one of the city’s many vigilantes into your home.

“So, uh…” you folded your arms awkwardly, “You have me… Concerned. Bats is usually the one asking questions. Maybe the little one. Robin, right? And Nightiwng is a Bludhaven guy. What could possibly bring you here?”

“Nothing to worry about,” he attempted to laugh. He stood tall in the middle of your shabby, dimly lit living room, but nothing about his stance exuded the confidence you had come to know from any of Batman’s crew. “Just wanted to ask you something.”

The pain in your thigh pulsed. “Right…” You frowned as you plopped onto the couch. “Alright, then. Ask away.”

“Well,” Nightwing cleared his throat. “I know Batman has been coming to you for your insight on some of the stranger happenings—”

A disgruntled, distorted grunt came from the as it slid open. A familiar red helmet came into view as another man entered your home.

“B’s missing. You seen him recently?” Red Hood got straight to the point.

Nightwing clicked his tongue. “No tact.”

“You’re one to talk,” Red Hood rounded on him. “What was that just now?

“I was trying to breech the subject more gently.”

“Gently? We don’t have time for—”

“Boys!” you interjected.

They stopped, straightening themself attentively.

“As bad as the Winchester boys,” you mumbled to yourself. However, you did have to admit you were pleased to see that Red Hood had warmed up to the other vigilantes… At least to the point of not pulling a gun on them.

“Who?” they chimed in unison.

You rubbed your temples. “Don’t— Don’t worry about it. Look, he was here the other night.”

Babe?

Your thigh began to throb again.

“What for?” Nightwing asked.

“The East-End victims.”

The blue vigilante rubbed folded his arms across his chest. “East-End… He never told us he was working that case.”

Babe? Wake up!

“That checks out,” Red Hood chimed in. “You know how B is when someone else gets hurt.”

Nightwing cleared his throat nervously. “I wasn’t there for that one. Was it really that bad?”

“Red Robin nearly had his throat ripped out by a nest of vampires,” you deadpanned. “This case does have some similarities.”

“Oh…”

BABE!

You jolted, eyes popping open.

The sunset streamed into your bedroom window only to be blocked by Jesse who was hovering over you.

“Jeez, you had me worried. I’ve never known you to sleep like the dead before,” they breathed a sigh of relief.

You’ve been a light sleeper ever since… Ever since what?

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay? Have you been asleep all day?”

You blinked, scanning the room. Those two men were nowhere to be found…

“Yeah… I guess so…”

#batman x reader #batman x you #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman #supernatural #batman x supernatural #red hood #jason todd #nightwing #dick grayson #red robin #tim drake

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cohldhands · 4 months ago

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okokok what about reader teasing Kiba in public sitting on his lap and lowkey grinding on him?

nonnie you're speaking right to my soul so ofc this turned into something not so short and with mutual crush!kiba in mind | kiba inuzuka x afab!reader | nsfw; minors dni | wc: 4k | public shenanigans, teasing, brat behavior (from reader), lap dance (kinda), brief mentions of konoha 13, mildest of dubcon, hands-free orgasm (m!receiving) | reader + others from konoha go on a camping trip, reader sits in kiba’s lap, it devolves from there

kiba relishes in the feeling of your ass against his pelvis. of course, the first several times he experienced it were innocuous: scooting past him in a crowded market; grappled holds and struggling bodies during training; sharing a bed or sleeping bag on more than one occasion. he did his best to keep his hands at his sides, tense and clenched, to let you move against him in the most innocent of ways. the friction, the plush of your flesh—he couldn't help but find himself throbbing beneath the fabric of his bottoms.

he knows it's a delicate game to play, his attention being fully caught by a friend, but the brunette isn't one to ignore what he—or his body—wants. he knows it would only be a matter of time before the facade crumbled.

you tried not to pay any mind to the strain under his pants, but soon it became blaring, something you couldn't ignore as you'd see and feel exactly what he was trying to hide.

something you had to actively fight instigating.

you did well, for the most part, behaving yourself around him despite it all. you turn kiba on and call his attention with barely any effort, and a part of you savors the visage of his flustered face and darkening eyes, innocent moments of life morphing into moments not so innocent at all.

more often than not, you find yourself imagining the way he’d gasp and groan if you put in the intention to grind against him, how his face and the tips of his ears would blossom with color and how he’d look at you, flustered and glossy-eyed. how his large hands would hold your hips, fistfuls of a fighting attempt to stop himself, to keep you going, to do whatever felt right.

because kiba, too, knows how to send your blood coursing and how to ignite your skin with little effort, and he basks in the confirmation when he catches the sticky-sweet scent of your arousal on the air, or watches as your pupils dilate and push the boundaries of your irises.

you did well, even through training sessions and packed markets, impish temptations and what-ifs—until the yearly autumn camping trip.

every october, you and the others who grew up with kiba hike your way out to a spot young team ten found years before you arrived in konoha: a clearing four miles outside of town, full of soft grass and surrounded by towering trees; a river to the east, maybe two-hundred yards from the main camp; space for a central fire for cooking and gathering. old shrines are carved in rock outcroppings not far, and during the summer, lightning bugs fill the clearing like twinkling stars.

initially, the sleeping pads and tents all surrounded the central fire, nestled together as if you all were on one big mission. however, as time passed, and those in the group started to pair off into couples, the tents spread out, within eyesight but out of ear-shot.

after a couple trips out to the campsite, you and the brunette had a system. you two were of the few single people, and setting up camp with each other, helping with tents threatening to escape in the wind or having extra citronella for the mosquitoes, had its benefits. it also allowed you the opportunity to get to know him in an environment he seemed to thrive in: under the brilliant night sky and embraced by autumn's cool breeze.

the young inuzuka preferred being near you as well, not just when camping but at all times. the only way he could ever explain it to himself is it was right to be near you. but now, with his body desperately craving your warmth, the coyness of restrained indulgence in his chest and words, and the sight of your ass in your leggings, he isn't sure being out in the middle of the woods with you is the best idea.

"looks like it's just me and you this time," you sigh as you place the bundle of firewood and kindling next to the fire kiba’s nursing. when you look around, you watch as shino and choji, both of whom would normally be around 'your' fire as well, set up their section of land with their new partners. they aren't far—no one is, really—but there's almost a whole world between yours and kiba's campsite and the rest of them.

"seems so." his eyes are intent on the dancing flames, brow furrowed in concentration as he leans forward in his chair to stoke the campfire, a cool breeze rolling through. he has a blanket draped haphazardly over his shoulders and gathered in his lap, and he’s wearing a hoodie and loose-fitting joggers, the fabric thin. "which is fine. shino's a traitor, anyway."

"i heard that." the dark-haired aburame interjects, his attention not breaking from feeding tent poles through fabric.

"oh, leave him alone." you grin at kiba as you speak in a hushed voice. your eyes wander over him, taking in the angles and shadows highlighted and cast on him from the flickering fire. you refrain from lingering, and you switch your attention to naruto as he runs across the clearing to shikamaru and temari's tent, grabs something, and runs, followed by shouts and laughter. "let him have his moment."

"since when are you a shino defender?" the brunette grins, taking the moment your attention is diverted to slither his eyes along your body. you’re in a pullover and leggings, such a simple and effective outfit, and his eyes glaze over your silhouette in the warm light. he watches as you shiver and take a mindless step closer to the bright fire, still captured by whatever naruto had decided to get himself into.

“oh, hush. you’ll have it one day, too.” you tease and cross your arms over your chest. you grin as shikamaru chases after naruto, who passes what you can now make out is a strip of condoms to ino, who jumped at the opportunity to aid in the irritation of her teammate. a pang in your own chest stabs at your sternum as it hits you: you’re surrounded by couples. you don’t react to it, though, other than inhaling a deep breath and exhaling the barbed air, quiet and sharp.

“i’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re saying.” kiba says before he joins as a spectator to the commotion. he laughs under his breath, his expression lighting up with amusement as he watches shikamaru grow increasingly frustrated. “besides, i wouldn’t wanna risk naruto stealing my condoms and playing capture the flag with 'em.”

you laugh, a light and genuine sound, and kiba’s eyes fall on you once more as his ears ring at the music of your laughter. “i guess that’s fair.”

your eyes flick around your plot in search of your camping chair, and you pull your brow together and start walking around as you don’t see it.

“what’s up?” he asks, shifting in his seat to follow you as you meander around your tents.

“i think i forgot my camping chair at home…” you answer, rummaging through your pile of bags and miscellaneous supplies.

“wanna sit?” he leans forward and starts to collect the blanket in his hands to stand and take it with him.

“no, no,” you shake your hands at him, motioning him to stop. “i can sit on the ground; i’m not—”

“no, that’s ridiculous. not while there’s a perfectly good seat right here.” he motions down with his hands, intending on referring to his chair. based on your reaction—a perched brow and a smug inclination in your eyes—he’s thankful it’s fallen dark outside as a blush creeps into his cheeks and tingles his ears, realizing how he sounded. he hops up from the chair, eyes wide and hand extended toward the now-empty seat. “i-i mean here. there. you can use mine.”

“kiba… sit down. i’m not gonna make you stand.” there’s a forced softness to your voice to ensure you don’t say the wrong thing.

“i—”

“actually, can we share your blanket? sorry.” you ask in earnest as a sudden shiver causes you to cut him off. with the sun fully set, and a chill carried on the breeze, you hadn’t realized the temperature dropped as low as it did until the spell of the camp’s spectacle was broken. that, and ino passed the metallic, square tickets back to naruto, who was inevitably caught by shikamaru’s jutsu that only brought on cheating claims from both naruto and ino.

the brunette swallows the thickness in his throat, salivating at the mere thought of you against him. he could tell you were genuinely cold, though, and despite having the blanket around him to keep his half-mast length hidden, he nods. in truth, with you and the fire both beside him, he had been too hot this entire time, even with the thinnest clothes he could find out of what he brought with him.

“yeah, come on.” he motions you over with a movement of his head, and he scoots back and widens his legs to accommodate for you as his arms fall open, blanket in hand. “did you not bring a thicker jacket, either?”

you walk over to him, and the world goes quiet for a moment. with the way he looks up at you, the hill of fabric in his lap from his hardening length, and the heat radiating off of him, your heart skips. warmth grows in your cunt as his face relaxes, only slightly, taking in the image of your silhouette in the camp light yet again.

noise catches up with you as you turn around and lower yourself into his lap, ass settled against his pelvis. he’s burning underneath you, scorching as you settle into your spot. “i did, but it’s in the tent, and you’re right he—jeez, you’re hot.”

“thank you,” he grins into the two syllables as he drapes the blanket over you, adding you behind the shield from the cool wind before his hands make haste into his pockets. “and you’re a brat.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, blushing more at the feeling of his sturdy body and ever-swelling member. you shiver as you gather the blanket in one hand, closing you both off in a cocoon of fleece. “and you haven’t seen the half of it.”

the second bit is said under your breath, a hint of something you’re not sure how to pinpoint—a challenge, maybe, or a lighthearted threat, perhaps. bratty behavior, you settle on, and you suppress the chuckle bubbling in your throat.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” his voice is husked and falls more quiet then he anticipates as he leans closer to your ear, his eyes locked in on the dancing flames. his hands clench, tightening, nails pressed into palms as a grounding reminder to behave.

“it means,” your heart jumps in your chest as you take hold of the support bar for the armrest, your words threatening to fail you when you need them the most despite the wild smirk donning your lips. you shift against him, weight and warmth giving his cock the stimulation it craved, a slow and seemingly innocent notion that causes him to twitch underneath you. “that using you as a furnace is the least bratty thing i could do right now.”

an sharp inhale, sucked in through his clenched jaw, followed by a forcibly controlled breath out. one moment, his hands are confined to his pockets; the next, they’re clinging to your hips and pulling your backside against him, nails digging into you through your layers, your body flush to his—all disguised by the blanket shrouding your bodies. fistfuls of a fighting attempt. he throbs again, blood rushing to his cock.

heat prickles at his skin, arousal mixed with a tinge of embarrassment, and you grin in satisfaction at the hitch in his breathing, your eyes taking in the remainder of the camp.

“or can you not handle it?” you murmur, a lilt in your voice as you glance over your shoulder and offer another slow.

“i-i—” his words falter as you grind against him, his eyes darting around the clearing.

“kiba? speechless and worried about others? i’m surprised.” you don’t hide your shit-eating grin, an expression that grows as he clears his throat and looks away from you, grip still firmly planted on your sides.

filthy words claw at his throat. for once, kiba isn’t sure what to do. he’s caught, suspended in time. you’re here, right on top of him, and the only solution he can conjure up to his current situation is to drag you into his tent. having you off of him, away from him, isn’t an option, but there’s so many people around—

you hear yours and kiba’s names called out, naruto’s voice reaching you from across the clearing has he half-jogs to your encampment.

“h-hey, naruto.” kiba answers after another quiet clearing of his throat.

“hey!” you wiggle in your seat as the blonde approaches, straightening up with a smile of greeting. “what’s up?”

the brunette coughs, shifting in his spot, his pelvis leaning into you.

“me and a few of the others were thinking of exploring the old shrines around here, tomorrow after breakfast. wanna join? oh, are you cold? i’ll add another log to the fire.”

kiba’s body tenses, strings pulled taut as naruto buzzes around like a bee, oblivious to the sinful reality in front of him. his grip on you tightens, as if it was possible, a grounding and fighting attempt to keep from bucking into you.

“that sounds fun,” you answer, glancing back at the brunette again, trying not to focus on the throbbing cock pressed to your asscheeks before returning your attention to the young uzumaki. “and yeah, i was, but kiba’s good for keepin’ warm. i wasn’t expecting it to get as cold as it did.”

“yeah, man, kiba’s good for that, for sure! you have a blanket and everythin’ for tonight, right? i can give you an extra; hinata always grabs the extra stuff that i forget.” naruto laughs lightly and rubs the back of his head.

you feel kiba’s chest vibrate against your back, a low rumble of something you’d swear is a growl if you heard anything. as if it’s possible, you’re sure his body temperature increases.

“yeah, i’ll be good going to bed tonight. thanks.” you offer another smile.

“damn, kiba, you look like you’re gonna explode.” the blonde laughs. “you all right?”

“fine, naruto.” kiba attempts something less than a scowl, but neither you nor naruto are convinced. “i think i trained too hard yesterday; just sore, is all.”

“well then you’re no match for me! can’t train too hard to run konoha.”

“uzumaki, get out of my face with that bullshit.” kiba smirks, the best he can provide given the level of frustration brewing in his chest and the pressure in his abdomen. he needs naruto to leave, for you to grind more against him, to indulge him in one of the many fantasies he had about you. “i’ll be hokage thanks to how hard i train.”

naruto opens his mouth to retort, but hinata’s voice cuts him off as she appears from behind him. “can you both save the hokage fight for later?”

“right?” you add, eyes falling on hinata.

“but he—” naruto starts.

“oh, don’t even—” kiba interjects.

“it’s been a long day,” the hyuga holds her hand up, silencing both of them, before taking hold of the blonde’s arm and glancing up at him. “and we have another long day planned for tomorrow. i’m ready for bed, and you’re coming with.”

both of the men glare at each other before succumbing to hinata’s wishes.

“fine.” kiba sighs.

“fine…” naruto pouts.

“see you in the morning. good night,” hinata adds with a smile to you.

“good night.” you return, and you watch as they turn their backs to you, hinata navigating a rambling naruto back to their tent. you pan over to shino and his partner, the closest to you and kiba, who are now in their tent, entrance still unzipped as they set up their sleeping arrangements. your eyes then flick to neji and tenten, the second closest campers, both of whom are wide awake: tenten intent on oiling her weapons by the light of the fire, and neji laid next to her on his side, reading a book.

some had already disappeared into their tents, lights and campfires out, and others stand around the dwindling central fire, watching until its cool enough to admonish their attention from it.

the moment you’re confident there are no eyes on you, and before kiba can get a word in edge-wise, you circle your hips against him, faster—as if your pace you’re could be remotely considered ‘fast’—and deliberate, your hand leaving the chair and bracing on his upper thigh.

the sound that comes from the brunette is something caught between a pleasured groan and a sigh, shock and pleasure and suppression all wrapped into one.

you need to hear him more. moisture collects in your underwear, adrenaline coursing through your hot veins at the risk of being caught, at the teasing, the knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. you’ve long forgotten the cold, or the dying fire, or the fact you haven’t fully set up your sleeping pad. right now, you’re concerned with taking this as far as you both will allow it.

before he can convince himself of anything otherwise, kiba’s large hands begin to rock you with ease, back and forth against his length, using your clothes and hips as leverage, still, as he starts to lose himself in the moment. he, too, no longer cares about much else other than the sensation of you on him, grinding against his clothed, fat, swollen cock.

“still have nothing to say?” you prod, your voice increasingly quiet against the sounds of the forest, crackling fire, and hushed, distant laughter.

“you’re pushing it.” he huffs against your shoulder, leaning forward, needing a different angle to have you on him in just the right place. a warning, maybe, or a threat, perhaps. either way, his mind is slipping. the more he focuses on your sweet scent, or the ebb and flow of your movements, the more the dizzying and intoxicating premise of pure hedonism lured him in, beckoning him to follow his instincts rather than behave.

his voice makes you shiver, cunt throbbing with heavy and demanding pulses, urging you to give in, to throw caution to the wind for the sake of indulgence.

you stiffen your body, prohibiting his maneuvering of you as shino comes out of the tent, looks for something outside before grabbing a bag and taking it back inside. three… two… one…

kiba opens his mouth to speak, to quip back at you in your moment of stillness, but once aburame disappears again, you change the position of your legs and bounce against him, shallow and quick movements that choke out any of the words he could have mustered.

instead, he pants, delicious music that rings in your ears. his eyes flicking to the crevice of space between your chests to watch your backside on him. the molten liquid in his veins surges, his heart a savage thing in his chest as he scans the crowd—which isn’t much of a crowd at all.

shikamaru puffs on a cigarette as the main fire dies, his eyes on the white and grey swirls of smoke leaving the bonfire and his mind likely eons away; neji readies the tent for tenten, who is packing away her freshly-cleaned weaponry.

“i-if you keep—fuck,” the words attempt to crawl from his throat as a familiar pressure builds in his abdomen. his cock is a twitching mess under you, clear slick soaking his head and coating the inside of his joggers. more mild embarrassment tingles his cheeks and ears, his pulse heavy in his palms, his ears, his length.

“if i keep what?” you purr, your torso angling forward as you replace your movements with slow, languid rocks. still subliminal, as you watch shikamaru put out his cigarette and bow inside the flap of his tent. still intentional, as you focus your hips on his fully erect, teased cock. the thrumming in your sopping core has become background noise, the level of his pleasure being your driving force, and you’re too committed to stop, curiosity and genuine desire fueling you. a small part of you is relieved, finally being released from the weight of keeping kiba’s effect on you a secret.

his forehead rests on your shoulder and heaves out another breathy moan, quieted against your back, his skin fiery and sweat dewing his hairline. he’s too far in to stop you, nor does he want to. in fact, this game you both are playing only solidifies his craving for you, sensing the authenticity beneath the raw human desire.

“if you keep moving like that, i’m gonna cum.” the strangled confession reaches your ears and reverberates in your mind, the desperation in his tone sending you reeling.

your heart rampages beneath your sternum, your pulse pounding in your fingertips at his husked, breathy voice. you switch your pace, back to the shorter, bouncing movements, and his cock tenses underneath you, hands clinging to you in a losing attempt.

your gaze is pulled by movement at neji and tenten’s site. tenten offers a small wave goodnight after she smothers the remnants of her campfire. you freeze, return the notion. kiba’s hands shake as they anchor you against him. she pulls the tent door closed, and the wood of your bonfire crackles as it splinters and crumbles under its own weight.

you continue grinding, relaxed and heavy movements, pressing yourself into him as if you could close any more distance. a small breath escapes you, weighty and tinged with pleasure of your own. you’re enjoying this, far more than you thought you would, and you want him to know.

“l-like that, shit.” his nails threaten to puncture through your clothes as he jerks you against him, guiding you with the pace and fervency he craved. he no longer senses anyone outside—though the threat of someone appearing is still high—and he’s desperate to truly feel you grind on him, his mind clouded and one-tracked.

you comply, biting back a mischievous grin as he uses you in tandem with your own rhythm, the blanket falling from your hand as it finds purchase on his other thigh. you turn your head as he lifts his from your shoulder, and your eyes fall half-hooded as he nuzzles himself in the curve of your neck, his mouth hot as he huffs against your skin.

“fuck—” tension wracks his body, his breath hitched in his chest and shaking hands holding you painfully still, before his aching, slick-covered cock throbs violently beneath your plush flesh, a spot of warmth blossoming in his joggers. he moans in your ear, a depraved and gravelly thing, and the sound sends goosebumps along your now-hot skin. his hips buck with each spurt, and his thick cum seeps through his pants, wetting your leggings.

“mmm,” you hum, satisfied with your endeavors. you move against him as much as his grip allows until he relaxes beneath you. the pressure in your cunt is blaring, an urgent call to attention from your body.

“happy?” he asks with a raspy, quiet voice once his breath finds him, and his grip lightens on your hips.

“i am. i’m warm now.” you chirp, turning in your spot to flash playful smile before attempting to peel yourself off of him and stand. “thanks for sharing your blanket with me. i think it’s time for—”

quick hands secure you back in his lap, one on your opposite hip and the other taking hold of your jaw. he turns your face to meet his gaze, head on, his eyes dark. when he speaks, his voice silken and carnal. “oh, you think i’m fucking done with you? i'm just getting started.”

#kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba x reader #inuzuka kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka #x reader fic #my writing #rat brain tings #anon ask #thank you anon for this idea 🙏#this is the shit i live for #divider by @saradikagraphics

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lionesses-lover · 1 year ago

Text

New Girl - A. Russo

The one where you are hopelessly in love with the new girl on the team but she doesn’t seem to notice you.

word count: 5.5k

Notes: First fic ever! Hope you enjoy :)

The obsession wasn’t something you had planned. It crept up on you so suddenly that you never had a chance to process it. The minute you realised it was there you were already overcome with the powerful emotion and it was too late. You were hooked on the sweet, slightly clumsy blonde.

Eight Years Ago

The first and only time you met was at an international camp. Norway U17s were playing England U17s at St George’s Park and at the big age of 16 it was your first time away from home and the pressure of representing your country was weighing heavily on your shoulders. The evening before the match you had felt sick to your stomach with nerves and nothing - not even the kind words of your best friend Ingrid - was able to calm you down

On the morning of the match you were still trembling with fear but tried to pull yourself together and eat some breakfast to help stop your stomach from screaming at you, telling you to go home. You eventually managed to get ready and go out to the pitch for your warm up. Then, you saw her. Chasing around a smaller brunette girl shouting something about shin pads.

“Tooney! I need those shin pads please give them back or I’ll tell the coach!” She shouted

“No way Alessia,” her friend, Tooney, replied, “this is payback for hitting me in your sleep on the bus.”

Alessia. That was her name. It was perfect.

You were stuck in place when you saw her. The light from the sun hit her perfectly, making her blonde hair shimmer and her blue eyes glisten. She looked like an angel, and just as she was turning around to carry on chasing her friend, her eyes locked onto yours. Only for a split second, but to you it felt like hours. However, before you could go and talk to her you were dragged away by Ingrid and then the match started. It was a tough match as the teams were quite evenly balanced, but unfortunately for you it ended 3-2 to England, with the girl who was already beginning to consume your thoughts scoring the winning goal in the 87th minute. All you wanted to do was go and introduce yourself, but sadly you had a flight to catch back to Norway. But that didn’t stop you from rapidly searching Instagram and eventually finding her account. Alessia Russo. Her full name sounded even more perfect. After scrolling through her posts, smiling to yourself at how gorgeous she looked, you quickly hit the follow button and turned your phone onto airplane mode before settling into you seat ready for the flight.

Unfortunately for you, that was as far as the interactions between the two of you went. A one second glance on opposite ends of a football pitch. When you switched your phone back on after your plane back home had landed you went straight onto Instagram in the hope that she had followed you back.

She hadn’t.

Present Day

“Have you heard the news?” Keira said as she bounced up to you upon entering training that day.

“No what’s happened now? Who’s injured” You asked, slightly worried as the last time Keira said there was news she revealed that Lucy had needed a minor surgery on her knee, which wasn’t the news you were hoping for.

“No one is injured don’t worry,” she replied, laughing at the panic that had spread across your face, “we are getting a new teammate tomorrow.”

“And we think you will really like her” said Ingrid, smirking whilst watching your reaction.

“Who is it?” You said.

“Alessia Russo, the blonde ex-Manchester United player, mine and Lucy’s teammate with England” answered Keira, grinning from ear to ear and bouncing around the changing room excitedly.

“Oh my god” you whispered to yourself, sitting down in shock at the thought of the girl you’ve been madly in love with for eight years finally noticing you. You turned on your phone to see the announcement posted on the FC Barcelona Femeni Instagram. Then you saw another notification.

@alessiarusso99 has started following you.

You couldn’t believe it.

“Are you finally going to make a move now?” asked Ingrid as she came and shook you out of your daze, reminding you that you needed to leave the locker room and walk to the training pitch. “You’ve been following her on Instagram for ages now, never messaged her and I know you’ve been in love with her for years. I think now is the perfect opportunity!” She said hopefully.

“I barely know her and she’s only just discovered who I am and followed me back, I’m sure she won’t be interested,” you replied sadly, “but that’s not going to stop me giving her the best welcome to Barcelona ever.”

“Ingrid, Y/N” shouted Alexia, your captain, “you can give relationship advice later, it’s time to train!”

———

After a very tiring and busy training session, filled with lots of teasing from you teammates, Mapi and Lucy in particular, who all knew about your not so secret crush, you finally made it home to your apartment. However you were not empty handed as you had decided to stop at a grocery shop on your way home to pick up some gifts to give to Alessia to try and welcome her to the team nicely tomorrow morning. You had bought some of your favourite chocolates, some fresh fruit and a small bottle of champagne so she could celebrate her new contract properly.

You went to bed early that night and made sure to set your alarm to wake up an hour earlier the next day. You were determined to make an unforgettable first impression on Alessia and that required you to get into training early so you would have the chance to speak to her and give her your gifts.

As you started to drift off to sleep, all you could think about was that gorgeous blonde who stole your heart in one moment all those years ago.

———

Your alarm woke you up bright and early the next morning and you had to take a moment in bed to remind yourself that today wasn’t a dream. She was really coming to play with you. After eight years of wishful thinking about being with her, eight years of staring at her through social media, your dreams were coming true. You were finally going to meet her.

After a quick drive you arrived at the training centre with a full hour before training began. As you roamed the empty hallways on your way to the locker room your eyes searched for a glimpse of beautiful blonde hair, hoping you could talk to her and introduce yourself before your teammates arrived.

Unfortunately it appeared that luck wasn’t on your side today as Alessia didn’t appear until the rest of the team had arrived, Ingrid and Keira smirking to each other when they saw you patiently sitting by your locker with a small package next to you.

But when she did finally enter the room you were blown away. She was even more beautiful than her social media showed. You hadn’t seen her in person since that match eight years ago, but you were well aware that she had changed from a young girl into a grown woman, and that she had grown even more into her beauty in that time. You were not aware that her social media didn’t do her enough justice, even though she looked amazing in her Instagram posts. She was spectacular in person. Her long, tanned legs and her sleek blonde hair which was tied into her signature ponytail. Her stunning blue eyes which were shining with pride having just signed a new contract with one of the best clubs in the world. All of her was perfect.

She walked timidly around the room, being introduced to all the players by Keira and Lucy, who had taken it upon themselves to give their national teammate the best start to the team possible. Finally, after what seemed like years, they reached you.

“Hi Alessia it’s so nice to meet you, I’m y/n” you said, standing up to shake her hand in introduction.

“Hey,” she replied, quickly releasing your hand before staring down at the floor uncomfortably.

“I think you two have played against each other before” interrupted Keira, grinning at you.

“Um, yeah quite a while ago, I think you actually scored the winner Alessia,” you chuckled softly, hoping she would feel more comfortable.

“Oh, that’s weird I don’t remember it,” she said.

Across the room your eyes met with Ingrid as she looked at you sympathetically. She knew how much it must hurt you that Alessia doesn’t remember the moment you have been replaying in your head for almost a decade.

“No worries, like I said it was ages ago,” you smiled at her, before turning around and picking up the package you had been anxiously waiting to give her, “I actually got you a small gift, sort of a ‘Welcome to Barcelona’ thing, I hope you don’t mind.”

You had hoped she would open it then and there but sadly she just took the package, murmured a few words of thanks and moved on, following Keira as she was introduced to Alexia.

Despite the slight rejection of your gift, you carried on getting ready for training as usual, ignoring the pitying looks of some of your teammates. You remained optimistic as you knew exactly what type of training was happening today, because you had checked the schedule in the coach’s office this morning before everyone arrived.

Today, the Barcelona women’s team would be doing training in groups based in their position on the pitch. This meant that, as you were also a forward, you would be in the same group as Alessia, who you hoped would agree to be your partner.

However, the universe seemed to have decided to make life hard for you today. By the time you plucked up the courage to ask Alessia to partner with you for one of the drills you were met with rejection once again.

“Sorry, I told Mariona I would go with her”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment as she refused eye contact and once again looked uncomfortable in your presence, “no worries I hope your first training goes well.”

Once again, you only received a small murmur of thanks before she turned around and walked away.

“Don’t worry,” said your national teammate Caroline as you partnered up with her instead, “I’m sure she is just nervous about being here.”

“It’s just sad,” you replied quietly, “I was so excited to finally speak to her and now I don’t think she likes me. What did I do wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s just you, she doesn’t look very happy to be with any of us,” Caroline answered, subtly pointing over to the other side of the pitch where Alessia and Mariona were working together in silence, with Alessia awkwardly looking around at the rest of the team.

“Hopefully she warms up to us soon,” you said, “I’m not sure my 16 year old self would forgive me if I let the girl of my dreams go without making a move again”

———

A month later, Alessia had made her debut for Barcelona and attended every single training session, slowly adjusting to the style of play that was always seen at the club. However there was one major issue. Alessia had not gone to any team bonding nights or accepted any offers from teammates to hang out after training. No one on the team knew what she did with her time, not even Keira or Lucy despite their many attempts to get Alessia to socialise.

Throughout the last month you had continued to try to partner up with or chat to Alessia, eager to get to know her better. However every time you were met with the same reaction. Short answers rejecting you whilst she looked uncomfortable. Each time this happened, it felt like a small piece of your heart was shattered, and you were dangerously close to having no heart all together after being rejected daily by the woman you so desperately wanted to be loved by.

The heartache you were experiencing eventually got so unbearable that you found yourself going home with Ingrid and Mapi one night, in tears after attempting to ask Alessia if she wanted to go out to celebrate the latest Barcelona victory with the team.

“I just don’t understand,” you cried as you sat with Ingrid sobbing into the cushions on her sofa, “why doesn’t she like us? Why doesn’t she like me? What did I do wrong”

“You didn’t do anything. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like us but it’s nothing to do with you,” replied your best friend as she felt her heart ache for you. She knew how desperately you wanted Alessia to like you, and didn’t understand why the blonde was so adamant not to accept your attempts at friendship.

“I agree with Ingrid, y/n”, said Mapi, “I’m sure it’s nothing personal, maybe she’s just shy.”

After another few hours of crying your heart out to your best friend and her girlfriend you decided to go home and attempt to get some sleep before enjoying your day off tomorrow. But once again, the universe had other plans. You were driving through the dark streets of Barcelona when you passed the apartment block where Keira and Lucy lived. It was also the apartment block where Alessia lived, in the apartment next to her English teammates in an attempt to make the transition to Barcelona easier for her.

Angry, hurt and disappointed, you suddenly felt the urge to visit the blonde. You needed an answer as to why she rejected the team, why she rejected you. You needed to know whether there was a chance that you would ever be someone she loved.

So, you parked your car, walked into the building, took the lift to the second floor and walked up to the door of Apartment 3. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door and waited. Thirty seconds later, the door opened and you were met with the blonde beauty you cared so deeply for.

“y/n, what are you doing here?” she asked, slightly alarmed at your sudden presence at her door.

“I need to speak to you, can I come in?” you asked shyly, now fully aware of where you were and what you were doing.

“Um,” she hesitates, looking behind her into the apartment, before eventually sighing and opening the door, “sure, come in.”

As you step into Alessia’s apartment for the first time, you are hit with a shock. It’s empty. The only things in the main rooms are a table and chair in the kitchen and a sofa and television in the lounge. There are no photos, no trophies or medals, no personal belongings suggesting that someone actually lives there. You look to your left into the bedroom and you see a mattress on the floor. She doesn’t even have a bed.

Alessia clears her throat, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Why is your apartment empty?” you interrupt.

“I haven’t got round to settling in properly,” she answered, looking down sadly, “I also don’t really know my way around the city. I don’t leave the apartment that much.”

“Why?”

“I’m on the phone a lot. I call my mum, dad and brothers once a day, and my best friend Ella every two days. I also call some more of my old teammates every week.”

“Do you miss them?” you asked softly.

“So much,” she replied, looking up so you could see the tears that were appearing in her eyes, “I haven’t been away from them since I went to UNC for college but this is different.”

“I understand,” you told her quietly, “when I moved from Norway to Barcelona I was terrified about being alone that I texted my mum every hour. It was stupid but I genuinely thought no one else would talk to me.”

She stayed quiet, sitting down on the sofa playing with her fingers. You could tell she was trying not to cry. Taking a deep breath, you sat down beside her.

“Is that why you haven’t been accepting anyone’s offers to hang out?” you asked, “because you miss your family so you want to speak to them?”

“Sort of,” she confessed, “ I guess it started off that way but now I’m scared none of the others will like me. Barcelona is a tough team to join - you guys are all so close that it’s a bit intimidating to try and make friends with.”

“But we have been trying to get you to hang out with us for almost a month, you’ve even turned down Keira and Lucy,” you said.

“I guess I was worried I had missed too much. I thought it would be awkward if I tried to get close to the team now after being quite antisocial for the first month,” she sighed, running a hand through her beautiful blonde hair. “I’ve also been so busy trying to get settled into my new home at the same time as trying to improve and develop my skills on the pitch.”

“But you are doing great! You have played in 3 matches so far and the team is winning all the time,” you argued.

“I haven’t scored,” she whispered, “I’m a striker and I haven’t scored. I’m letting the team down because I literally can’t do the only thing my job says I need to do.”

“That will come with time,” you reassured, slowly reaching a hand out and placing it on her back, rubbing circles in an attempt to comfort the crying blonde, “when you are properly settled in you will be able to relax and just enjoy playing the game you love. The first thing you need to do is sort this place out. You can’t live with no bed and no photos and personal items around.”

“I don’t know where to go,” she admitted shyly.

“Well, we have a free day tomorrow, why don’t I go home now, you promise to get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you shopping. I’ll even help you organise everything so you feel more at home,” you suggested, secretly hoping she’d say yes in order to give you a chance to spend time with the blonde you had been dreaming of for eight long years.

Taking a deep breath, Alessia looked up at you.

“Alright, pick me up at 10?” she suggested shyly.

“I’ll be here.” you smiled.

———

The next day, as promised, you were outside Alessia’s front door at 9:55, five minutes early, which gave you five minutes to calm yourself down and reassure yourself that it was all going to be okay. You had been given a golden opportunity to make the girl you loved like you a little bit and you were not going to ruin it. Slowly, you reached out and knocked on the door, just like you had done the night before.

“Hi,” said Alessia as she opened the door, “I wasn’t sure whether you were being serious last night.”

“Of course I was being serious,” you chuckled, before holding out your hand and offering her the bouquet of flowers you had picked out at a local florist in your way to her apartment, “I um, I got you these, I thought they would be the first step in getting you settled into Barcelona.”

“Thank you so much y/n” she said, taking the bouquet as a grin began to spread across her face, “ I’ll put them in the sink until we buy a vase.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t cross my mind that you wouldn’t have one,” you said, suddenly feeling very nervous.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she chuckled softly, stepping out of the apartment, “that’s why you’re here, we are going to get me properly moved in so I can finally score my first Barcelona goal!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for,” you said quietly. Was that all she thought this was? Did she just think you were doing this as a favour? You wished you could tell her how you felt, how you have been in love with her since you were 16 and you saw her once at a match. But sadly she didn’t even remember that match.

Taking what seemed like your millionth deep breath of the morning, you eventually said, “Come on Lessi, let’s go.”

If you had paid more attention to Alessia instead of focussing on trying to stop your hands shaking with nerves as you closed her front door behind her, you would have noticed the small blush that covered her cheeks as she heard the nickname you had used without noticing.

———

“I can’t believe you’re that clumsy!” You laughed as the pair of you returned to Alessia’s apartment, arms full with boxes of household items.

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t see the step was there!” she argued, grinning widely at you, “carrying this massive box is hard!”

You chuckled at her before replying: “Well at least you can finally sleep on a proper bed instead of a mattress on the floor.”

“Only if you help me set it all up,” she said, hoping you didn’t plan on leaving yet.

“Of course I’ll help,” you answered, your heart flipping around in your chest at the thought of spending even more time with the blonde, who finally seemed to be feeling more comfortable around you.

———

Four hours later, as the sun began to set in Barcelona, you and Alessia flopped tiredly onto her sofa, before looking around at her apartment. It looked like a home. You had bought some nice decorations for the rooms, as well as convincing her to finally unpack the many boxes containing photographs, trophies and medals from over the years, convincing her to display them to make the home seem personalised.

“It looks lovely, I feel so much better thank you y/n”she said softly, turning to face you, “I’m so glad to have you as my friend.”

Friend.

Your heart broke a bit more upon hearing her call you that. As you looked into those beautiful blue eyes you desperately wished you could find the courage to confess all the feelings you had been keeping secret for the entire day. But sadly, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want to pressure her into something when she was still settling into her new life.

“You’re welcome,” you replied quietly, “I’m always here if you need me, um, I should probably go, it’s getting late and we have training tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, sure,” she said, getting up to walk you to the door, “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye Lessi,” you said as you stood in her doorway, before taking a deep breath and doing what you knew deep in your heart you had to do.

You slowly leant forward and hugged her. Putting your arms around her waist and letting her arms fall round your shoulders. It wasn’t a long hug, but it was what you both needed. You needed some love given to you after being in love for so long, and Alessia needed some comfort and a sense of belonging from a kind person who had managed to force themselves into her heart within a few hours.

As you pulled apart, both of you wearing matching blushes on your faces, you couldn’t help but smile at the hope that something could finally happen between the two of you.

“Right, I really need to go now otherwise I’m going to be late going to sleep, which means I’m going to be late waking up and so might be late to training and then Alexia will kill me,” you said, suddenly getting very nervous standing in front of Alessia.

“Bye y/n, see you tomorrow”

———

Two weeks later

If you said the past two weeks had been great then you would be lying. They had been like a dream.

Every morning you walked into training and were greeted by a grinning Alessia Russo, who had become a totally different person. Her blonde hair shimmered and her blue eyes shone brightly as she chatted to many of your teammates throughout the weeks, making up for the time that was lost as she was adapting to Barcelona life.

You had finally had the opportunity to partner up with her in a few training drills and it was wonderful. The bond between the two of you was slowly getting stronger and that was showing both on and off the pitch. The pair of you had began hanging out after training every day - watching movies, visiting coffee shops and going shopping to grow Alessia’s wardrobe after she had admitted to you that she left most of her clothes back in England.

However, the only thing that wasn’t perfect was your growing love for the English blonde. You tried to keep your feelings hidden but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to confess everything to her as you became closer.

“I don’t understand you,” said Keira one afternoon at training, as she watched you watch Alessia run around, chasing after Aitana and Claudia.

“What do you mean?” you asked absentmindedly, trying to contain a smile as the sweet noise of Alessia’s infectious laugh reached your ears.

“You are obviously in love with her and she is obviously in love with you, why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

You turned round to face Keira, the smile on your face vanishing, “It’s not that easy, she doesn’t like me,” you said sadly, “she thinks of me as a friend. That’s it.”

“I think you’re being stupid,” sighed Keira, “at least tell her how you feel, please. I don’t like watching you obsess over her. It just makes you sad because you’ve convinced yourself you’ll never have her, which is a lie.”

“I just don’t want to get hurt,” you said, “I’d much rather be her friend than nothing in her life.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from Keira, trying to stop your tears appearing at the thought of Alessia rejecting you.

———

“y/n! y/n!” shouted Alessia, desperately trying to get your attention over the loud music at the club, “come and dance with me!”

You hesitated, not wanting to risk being at such a close proximity to Alessia without being able to hold her or kiss her.

As if she could sense your hesitation, she shouted once again, “Pretty please, think of it as my reward for getting my first Barcelona goal.”

You were hooked. The combination of her adorable puppy dog eyes and the memories of her gorgeous 57th minute strike (assisted by you) against Real Madrid earlier that day were more than enough to convince you to go and join her on the dance floor.

As you approached the beautiful blonde you had your first opportunity of the night to take in her outfit. She was wearing a gorgeous all-black suit paired with a black crop top. She looked flawless. You just wished you could tell her that she took your breath away.

However, it seemed that Alessia had also been having similar thoughts, as she shouted “you look so good tonight, I love your style, you look amazing,” before throwing you a lopsided grin.

“Thank you Lessi, you look beautiful,” you said, finding courage in the compliment you had just received.

You slowly placed your hands around her waist as she looped her arms around your neck - the pair of you slowly swaying to the music that was being played in the club.

“I’m so happy you helped me settle in to life here, it’s wonderful. I’m really grateful to have found a friend like you,” she said happily.

There it was again. Friend. The word that made your stomach turn and you heart crack. You wished she would see you as more than that - you would give her the world if she asked you - would a friend do that?

Once again, it was as if she could sense your hesitation as she softly asked, “what’s wrong y/n? Did I do something? You seem sad.”

You rapidly looked around, trying to think of an excuse to leave the conversation before you became dangerously close to exposing yourself. However, all you saw was Ingrid and Mapi, dancing a few metres away from you. They looked so happy and in love. Mapi looked at your best friend as if she was the only person in the room and Ingrid looked at her as if she had hung the moon and the stars.

You wanted that. You wanted that with Alessia. It was all you had wanted since you first saw her on that football pitch all those years ago.

Suddenly, you were hit with the realisation that if you didn’t do anything about your feelings then you would never have the love you so desperately wanted. Slowly, you turned back to Alessia, smiling gently as your eyes met with her.

“No I’m not okay Lessi,” you said calmly, trying to take deep breaths and say what you needed to say, “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you on the football pitch at St George’s Park eight years ago and I know you don’t remember it but you stole my heart and you are all I’ve been thinking about ever since. I’m so sorry if you don’t feel the same way and I really don’t want to make things awkward between us but I needed to tell you before it breaks me. Because I can’t keep living my life too scared to admit that I love you.”

You quickly shut your eyes after your confession, not wanting to watch her reaction in fear of disgust and rejection taking over her face.

“y/n” she said slowly, “I need to tell you something too”

You looked up to face her, ready to hear that you were too late - she was in love with someone else.

“I remember the match. I didn’t at first, but when I was sorting out all my photos the other day I found a photo from the match. We won 3-2. I scored the winner.”

You nodded carefully.

“You’ve been so lovely to me over the past few weeks. You made an effort to try and get to know me even when I was too shy and homesick to accept your kindness. I was so excited when I joined Barcelona from Manchester United. Not only because I was going to play for the best club in the world but because I was going to finally meet the player that my friend Ona had been telling me about. The beautiful Barcelona player who her Spanish teammates played with. I found you on Instagram and I was hooked, you are gorgeous.”

“Lessi..” you began, still trying to absorb the new information about her feelings.

But before you could ask what she was trying to say, Alessia leant forward and captured your lips with hers, pulling you into her by the waist whilst giving you a bruising, passionate kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

Previously, there had been many times where you had dreamed of kissing Alessia. But no dreams could ever compare to the real thing. Her lips locked onto yours so perfectly it felt as though she was made for you. As cliché as it sounds, everyone else in the busy club seemed to fade away. You could vaguely hear Keira and Lucy shouting in the background but you blocked them out, instead choosing to wrap your arms around the blonde, trying to savour every second of this moment.

Eventually, you both pulled away, breathing heavily and smiling giddily.

“So does this mean you feel the same?” you asked shyly, hoping to hear her confirm what you already knew.

“How could I not? I love you too y/n” she answered, pulling you into her again and pressing her lips against yours.

“Finally!” You heard Ingrid say, “she’s only been crushing on Alessia for eight years”

Finally, you thought, finally you had the girl of your dreams.

———

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #muwfc

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middlingmay · 5 months ago

Note

“Let me get this straight: You’re calling me at 3 am, disrupting my beauty sleep on a workday, to ask me out?" - for Buck and Bucky please!

Hello Anon!

Thanks for the request - this one was so fun to write. I hope you like it :)

They’d settled near each other, after the war.

On that Florida air strip, where Wisconsin lay one way and Wyoming another, it had taken root inside Gale: the life ahead of him with patient, wonderful Marge, who no man could ever deserve, had stopped driving him on, compared to the life behind him with John.

When Gale had turned up on John’s doorstep, all his bags in hand and asking if he knew of any rooms to rent in town, he’d gotten to enjoy the sight of Major John Clarence Egan speechless for the first time in his life.

Gale had achieved what the combined forces of the US military, countless missions, German fighter pilots and a POW camp could not.

John had tried to offer him a room at his house, but Gale refused. It would have been easy, so easy to say yes and slip unspoken into this something between them. But Gale was sick of it being unspoken. He wanted to do it right this time.

In the days following his arrival, they found Gale a place to live, and like John, he found himself a little part time job to keep him busy and keep him from plundering his savings from his military salary, which remained largely untouched and offered a pretty little nest egg should he ever need it. (But not for the little apartment he and John found for him; that was hopefully only temporary.)

In the weeks following his arrival, they spent time together doing up the parts of John’s house that had gone without care for a little too long, and making Gale’s apartment feel a little more like a home. They went to eat in restaurants and John showed Gale his favourite haunts (not all of them bars, he was pleasantly surprised to see). They drove and walked around, perfectly aimless for once in their lives.

But none of it, Gale thought, could have been constituted as a date. And Gale did so want to date John. He wanted to take him out and make him feel special and walk him to his door at the end of the night and see if he could be lucky enough to steal a kiss.

He just had to ask him. Because apparently John was a gentleman, following this thing at Buck’s pace.

Gale had almost asked him that first day he’d turned up tired and hungry and John had taken care of him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He’d almost asked him when John had dragged a heavy second-hand bookshelf up a flight of stairs to Gale’s apartment because he knew how Gale loved books and cleanliness in equal measure.

He almost asked him when Gale had a bad day and a worse evening, and John had steered them passed all the bars, up to Gale’s apartment, settled him with a poorly-made tea, and read to him from a physics book where he mispronounced half the words (Gale thought at least half must have been on purpose).

And now Gale was lying awake at some ungodly hour because he almost asked him.

Gale had been a cocksure pilot; one of the best, him and John. He had led squadrons of men in war, kept his guys together in a POW camp for a year and a half. He knew himself and what he was about. But here he was, flaking out, being a coward - a whole big pile of chicken shit - over John, who'd never made him feel anything but brave.

What kinda man was he?

Gale threw back the covers and hauled himself out of bed.

He was Major Gale W Cleven—Buck—goddamn it, and he could do this.

One of the selling points of his apartment had been its own private line. He padded out to the tiny lounge and picked up the phone and dialled the number he knew off by heart by now.

They were finally flying home, he and Buck. Just like he promised.

Gale grinned at him from the left. It was that grin he tried to hide sometimes, the one that showed off the apples of his cheeks and couldn't disguise his soft eyes when he looked at John.

When they both turned eyes front to enjoy the clear blue skies together that would take them home, Bucky saw them. The white far-off pinstripes of a hoard of incoming German fighters. But they were still a way off; they still had time. Buck still had time.

“Bail out, Buck!” They were so close to going home, he wasn’t risking Buck now.

But Gale just smiled at him. “Since when have you backed down from a challenge, Jon?”

The Germans were nearly on them.

“Gale! Go—get out! I’ll cover—!”

Gale petted the yoke unhurried. “Easy, Bucky. We’re safe as houses up here. Last two pilots left in the sky, just like you said.”

The Germans opened fire with a shrill ringing, ringing, ringing—

John bolted up in bed, chest heaving and heart beating hard and fast.

The phone was ringing.

He collapsed back onto the sheets. “Fuck.”

He almost let the phone ring out. It was fuck-knows-when in the morning. But then he remembered the very exclusive list of people who actually had his number, and he felt like he was jolting out of a nightmare all over again as he scrambled to catch it before it ringing stopped.

Buck. Buck might need him.

In the hallway, he snatched up the phone as soon as his fingertips grazed the smooth dark plastic. “H-hello?”

Whoever was on the other end was lucky to hear his voice over the thundering of his heart.

“It’s me, John.”

Buck. He knew it. “What is it?” He asked blunt and panicked. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’! Nothin’ John, I swear.” Buck exhaled slow. “Uh, I uh, god. I’m sorry; I wasn’t thinking.”

Sheepish. Buck sounded sheepish. He could work with sheepish. It wasn’t frightened, afraid.

“It’s fine, Buck,” he said. Heart finally getting under control. “C’mon, it’s fine. What’s on your mind?”

“I just, um. I was wonderin’. You promised me a baseball game. I was wonderin’ if I could take ya.”

Bucky frowned. Much as he was warmed by Gale remembering a promise he made what felt like a lifetime ago; and as much as something inside tingled and sparked at Gale asking him to one, he did wonder if Gale hadn't woken up from the same kinda dream as him. The kind that made it hard to fall back asleep and left you reaching for distractions.

But still, like hell he was going to pass up this kind of opportunity. “Well—well, yeah, Buck, of course. I'll take you to a game. “

“No.” Gale blurted too loud down the line. “No, I wanna take you. Like a…”

That tingling and sparking thing caught and used up John’s body like tinder. “Let me get this straight,” he sad faintly and cast a look at the hallway clock finally. “You’re calling me at three am, disrupting my beauty sleep on a work day, to ask me out?”

Maybe Gale’s blood was pounding as furiously as John’s, because that was the only reason he couldn’t have heard the delighted, tremulous, terrified disbelief in John’s voice.

Instead, Gale rushed out over the line, “No, no. I know. It was—God, I’m sorry, John. Go back to sleep. It was stupid—just—goodnight.”

John was left calling the dial tone Buck.

Stupid, Buck had said. Well, John felt everything he had ever wanted at his fingertips. If Buck wanted stupid, he would give him stupid.

It wasn’t far from John’s house to town, so he didn’t bother with a coat. He simply shoved a sweater over his undershirt and some boots on his feet and took off running.

By the time he got to Gale’s apartment building, the cool night had turned to fog, to a gentle spray, to a light rain. The thin pajama pants he wore started to stick, and his curls caught droplets of dewy moisture and sprinkled them on his face and neck.

He unlocked the door to the building with the key Gale had cut for him and headed straight for 1B. He knocked once and Gale didn’t answer within three seconds, so he let himself in the apartment, too.

The lights were out and Bucky headed for the bedroom, figuring Gale had gone back to bed to try and get some sleep. The curtains were thin and some strains of the street lights lit the room a little. John saw Gale, his back shoved against the wall, all bundled up like they’d never been able to do at the stalag.

He got close and gently shook his shoulder. “Buck. Buck.”

Gale woke quick and was upright in a second, eyes alert but mouth full and puffed up in sleep. “John? What’s wrong?”

Gale tried to get up out of bed but John pushed him back down. “S’okay. All good, Buck.”

“What are you doing here? It’s—”

“’Bout 3.20am. You never let me answer. On the phone.”

Gale cleared his throat and looked at his covers like they were some new textbook that demanded all of his attention. John smiled small and cheeky out of Buck’s sight and reached out to pluck up a strip of covers with his fingers to tease the material out of Buck’s grasp.

“Yes,” John whispered, smug and happy. “Obviously you can take me on a date.” He sat on the edge of Gale’s bed who now looked at him eyes wide and full of wonder. “But I want the whole nine yards: good seats, hot dogs, you desperately trying to follow along—the whole shebang.”

Gale smiled that same apple-cheeked smile from John’s dream. “You come all the way here in the rain to say yes to a question I chickened outta askin’?”

“Mhm,” John agreed cheerfully.

Gale laughed and collapsed back onto his bed. Only John’s damp clothes and the crumb of decorum he had left stopped him from collapsoing down with him.

“Thank you, John. I would love to take you out.”

“’Kay,” John said softly biting on his lip before collecting himself before it was too late. He stood up and slapped his hands on his thighs. “Well, g’night Buck. Sleep tight.”

He turned on his heels to make from the room and Gale called after him.

“John!”

John spun round, hand on the door jam. Gale looked at him, exasperated and fond.

“It is 3.30 in the morning. It’s rainin’. You can stay till morning.”

John shook his head, droplets spattering the wall. “You gotta wait for that, Buck. Your girl isn’t easy.”

Gale gave an amused huff and leaned his head back against the wall, before John’s words took root. He sat up at the gall of of the man and yelled through the open door. “Since when?!”

He heard John’s laugh even as the front door to his apartment swung closed.

#fic request #clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #mota #masters of the air #fic

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little-emerald-snake · 7 months ago

Text

Camp Counselors - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

I want to give partial credit to @grandeoatmilklatte because I had a spicy dream, woke up to leave myself the cryptic ass note “camp counselors” that I was not able to decipher. She basically gave me this brain child so the writing is mine but she gets full credit for basically writing out her interpretations of my dream. Thanks lovely 🥰

Warnings: doing naughty naughty things outside instead of being good chaperones, unprotected p-in-v, modern scenario, just a smutty little drabble

577 words

Sebastian was almost as eager as she was to sneak away from their groups of sleeping kids. They’d each waited till their groups and other cabin chaperones had fallen asleep before meeting outside and running off to the boathouse together.

At first they had no real plan in mind, only eager to kiss and have their hands on the other after getting to know each other and find out that they shared a spark of attraction between them. They decided sneaking off to the boat house would likely give them the most privacy.

With Sebastian’s hand in her hair, other arm lifting her pajama pant clad leg by the crook of her knee to spread her open and allow himself to grind against her weeping center. Her fingers slid over his shoulders and over his back, moaning into his deeply sensual kisses.

A shiver of delight trailed through her when he’d finally pulled away, helping her into the small rowboat and untiring it, taking the paddle and pushing them out to the center of the lake.

Now under the bright beautiful light of the moon and stars he laid her gently down on the padding that lined the bottom of the boat, his hands caressing her gently, sweeping kisses down her jaw to the collar of her pajama shirt.

He eagerly helped her out of it, groaning at the sight of her bare breasts under the glow of the moonlight. His hardness rocked against her thigh as his lips rejoined with hers, nips and love bites dragging the kiss out.

He started to tug off his own clothing as she shuffled out of her pajama bottoms, careful with their movements to not rock the boat too far to one side.

When they rejoined it was a battle of tongues and teeth, but his cock gently pushed into her, going slow and steady in a pace that had her breaking the kiss and forcing his mouth to her neck while she cried out into the night air.

He fucked her carefully, the boat wobbling ever so slightly but he held the side, willing it as best he could to stay still. She uttered a cry for more and all hope was lost. His hips slammed back into hers, her cries ringing out against the chirping of crickets and sloshing of water against the outside of the boat.

The boat wobbled unsteadily beneath them as they moved faster. He chuckled at her pleasure turned fear stricken expression as he reached out to steady the boat again while rocking into her at a more controlled pace.

She tipped her head back, crying out when she found her release underneath him, his pants and grunts displaying that he couldn’t be far behind her.

With his fingers threaded in her hair, hips grinding against hers, he groaned out, fucking into her while pumping rope after thick rope into her pussy. Filling her full of the pent up need that had accumulated over the week at camp.

He carefully pulled out, helping her clean up as best as he could and righting her in the boat. She gasped when she lifted her head, realizing they were now surrounded with lightning bugs over the still lake water.

He grinned from ear to ear, rowing them back to shore before making sure she got safely back to her cabin, promising that after camp was over he would gladly experience this in a much nicer location.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #modern au #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #little emerald snake

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clangenrising · 6 months ago

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Month 15 - Newleaf

Battle With Razor Pt 2

The sound of claws on stone filled the camp.

Shortly after the battle patrol had left, Scorchplume had climbed onto the Stoneperch and started restlessly scratching her claws over its surface non-stop. It had been about an hour and Oddstripe was starting to get worried about her.

He understood, of course. His three, perfect children had all gone to join the fight and while he was so, so proud of them, he was also absolutely terrified. He’d taken to checking on everyone in camp, making sure that things were settled here at least.

Pantherhaze was sat next to the elders’ den, within which Mystique was sulking. Oddstripe made sure to drop off her breakfast. Slatepaw and Fogpaw had dutifully taken on the task of keeping Lake occupied and were taking turns letting her bat at their tails. She was finally starting to reach a healthy weight which relieved Oddstripe greatly. Aldertail had turned in to try and sleep through the battle and Oddstripe hadn’t wanted to disturb her.

Sagetooth had gone with the rest of the Clan to help provide medical attention to the fighters, leaving Oddstripe at home just in case something went wrong with Mystique’s pregnancy. He had told himself to trust her judgment but he also couldn’t help but worry that he could be doing more at the front. Scorch’s scratching was starting to grate on his brain, making him even more restless.

Eventually, he leapt up onto the Stoneperch beside her, offering a gentle smile. “How are you hanging in there?”

“Fine,” Scorch said, clearly lying. She did still her paws though, which he silently appreciated.

“I’m nervous too,” he said. She frowned, looking more forlorn than he had ever seen her. He continued, “I know they train for this kind of thing but that doesn’t make me worry any less about them getting hurt.”

“I just worry they’re still underestimating him,” Scorch admitted. “I tried to prepare them but if it’s not enough…”

Oddstripe nodded. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” He took a deep breath and stretched, padding a few steps away into the thick, waving grass. “At the end of the day, you just have to trust that they are doing their best and have faith that things will be alright.” Scorch huffed a little and curled her tail over her paws.

Oddstripe sighed and looked up at the last traces of the stars in the early morning sky. Faith had always come so easily to him that it was hard to understand why it seemed so hard for Scorchplume. He took a deep breath and tried to open himself to StarClan’s will, hoping they had some guidance for him in this moment.

The sun was just starting to rise over the desert and the mountains beyond it, staining the dark blue sky a bloody crimson. Oddstripe’s tail bristled and arched behind him as the rays of sunlight seemed to transform into rivers of blood pouring over the distant landscape while the rising sun flickered and started to go out. He couldn’t breathe.

Then, suddenly, a column of flame shot up from the desert and the blood shrank away, reversing its course as if going back in time and the sun regained its brilliant gleam. He blinked and the vision was gone, the sun rising just as normal. Scorchplume looked over at him and frowned.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

He swallowed, took a step back, and said, “I- I think I just had a vision.” He could barely believe the words. He turned the images over in his mind to make sure he was interpreting it correctly. With something this important, he had to be sure.

Scorch pursed her lips. “What kind of vision?” she said skeptically.

“Well,” he said, trying to spread saliva around his very dry mouth, “I can’t be perfectly certain, but it was a warning from StarClan. If you don’t go to the battle right now, Goldenstar will die.” As he said the words, they seemed to fall into place, affirming their truth the moment they were spoken aloud.

Scorch bristled. “That’s crazy,” she snapped. “How would you even know that?!”

“It’s hard to explain,” he said, knowing intuition wouldn’t be a satisfying explanation for the cynic. “Look, you don’t have to believe me but I would bet my life on what I saw.” His eyes wandered over the grass as a plan formed in his mind. “In fact, I’m going over right now. Please come with me.” He looked up at her and prayed that she could have faith just this once.

“I…” she swallowed and curled her shoulders in on herself. “I can’t. If Razor finds me again-”

“I know,” Oddstripe cut in, “but Goldenstar needs you.”

Scorch shook her head and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back there.” Oddstripe wanted to beg and plead but he knew it wouldn’t convince her. He sighed and leapt down from the Stoneperch to head for his den.

“I’m going to go anyway,” he said. “Maybe there’s something I can do.”

“What’s going on?” Pantherhaze asked, standing up.

“Goldenstar is in trouble,” Oddstripe said, sounding more authoritative than he thought he was able. “I’m going to see if there’s something I can do about it.”

“Oh,” Pantherhaze swallowed and shifted as if he were straining against the tether keeping him there with Mystique. Eventually, he said, “May StarClan guide you.”

Oddstripe swallowed and nodded. He strode quickly into the healers’ den to the back where the herbs were stored. Sagetooth had already taken most of the important ones with her but his eyes fell upon the small stock of yarrow that was left. Listening to his gut, he snatched the herbs up in his mouth and bounded back out, heading for the border as fast as was sustainable. He mumbled prayers under his breath, hoping that his vision wasn’t a certainty, that he would be able to change fate on his own.

“Wait!” Scorchplume called out and he turned to see her bounding to catch up with him. He smiled but didn’t waste time on words. Once she was at his side, he took off again and she followed quickly and quietly. We’re coming, Goldenstar, he thought. Just hang in there.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #newleaf #battle with razor #Scorchplume #Oddstripe #Pantherhaze #Omens and Prophecies

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dwtdog · 5 months ago

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fem dnf week dayyyyy 6 :D

“Hey, wake up.”

Someone is shaking George’s shoulder. She should kill them. She tries- reaching for the bow that lies beside her, dismayed when her fingers only grasp empty air. Plan B, then.

She opens her eyes, and all the fight drains from her when she sees a mask hovering above her, bone white, carved with the visage of a smile. “Dream,” she groans, rolling over and away from the other girl. “Fuck off.”

“But you said we could start early today,” Dream whines.

“And whose quest is this?” she shoots back, pulling her knees to her chest and screwing her eyes shut, begging sleep to come back for her.

“Yours,” Dream answers dutifully, tugging at George’s blanket. “But you said-”

“Don’t care. Sleeping now.”

“Fine,” Dream huffs, and there’s a crunch of dirt beneath her boots when she stands. “I’ll go hunting then.” And she stomps off, footsteps heavy as always.

George relaxes, doing her best to ignore how little her meager traveling sleep pad does to protect her from the hard ground, how the sun is already glowering through the dense trees and into her eyes. She’s mostly unsuccessful- her body seems to have decided, without her permission, that it’s time to be awake- and her limbs seem to itch with the need to move.

And she is on a quest, after all.

So she sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and stretching her legs out in front of her, socked feet emerging from the end of her blanket. Their camp is a bit of a mess- last night's fire reduced to a blackened pile of ash, Dream’s bedding left messy and uneven a few feet from George’s.

George should hate her. Dream wakes her up early, leaves camp to chase small mammals and comes back with nothing because she doesn’t want to hurt them, and is, overall, a pain in George’s ass. But there’s a strange kindling of fondness that curls in her stomach when she thinks of the other girl and her charming voice, her strange enthusiasm for anything and everything.

So they travel together. George’s grand solo quest, featuring Dream, the girl she’d met in a village one over from hers and who she hadn’t been able to shake since.

In the spirit of getting a move on, George begins the process of cleaning their camp up. It’s easy enough to pack hers and Dream’s things up, distributed evenly- okay, evenly-ish- between the two of their large packs. She kicks dirt over the fire, and picks up a few errant pieces of trash, all before Dream returns from wherever she’d wandered off to- in fact, George manages to count their rations out twice over and split out the mornings before Dream returns.

When she does, George fights back the bubbly feeling that spawns in her chest. It’s stupid. She really, really doesn’t have time for it. So she just nods to Dream, handing her rations over and munching on her own. The tough meat never gets any better.

“I saw something,” Dream says after a beat, her mouth half full of bread, her mask raised half way so she can eat. George glares at her, and she dutifully shuts her mouth. She makes a big show of chewing and swallowing, sticking her tongue out at George before continuing. “There’s a mountain to the east.”

George groans. “Seriously? Are we lost, then?” They aren’t supposed to come to a mountain for another few days yet, and George isn’t exactly eager, or ready, to climb one.

“I don’t think so,” Dream says, shaking her head and staring off in what George assumes is the direction of the mountain. “I think it’s new.”

“New?” George asks, eyebrows drawing together.

“I can’t explain but just- I’ll show you. When we’re done eating,” Dream shoves the rest of her bread in her mouth and George makes a point to not watch. It doesn’t matter that she likes the way the muscles in Dream’s neck move when she chews, or that she finds the way her emotions play out so clearly across the lower half of her face terribly endearing. She’s on a quest, damn it. To kill a dragon.

She mulls over what Dream had said- a new mountain? It doesn’t make any sense- but George trusts her. There’s been more than one instance through the course of their journey where Dream’s intuition has saved their skin, and George isn’t about to stop trusting it now.

But if she’s right- is it a good sign? A mountain popping up out of nowhere certainly seems like dragon magic, something deep and ancient and tied intrinsically to the land. But George has never heard of something like this, even with all the research she’s done on dragons. Documented dragon magic is usually comprised of cities water becoming poisonous, or animals behaving strangely. A whole mountain- that would be a damn powerful dragon.

“Ready?” George asks when she’s done with her own food, smiling slightly when Dream nods enthusiastically, jumping up from the stump she’d been using as a chair. “Then let’s go.”

The walk through the woods is nice, in a way. The early days of summer ensure that the air in the woods is just warm enough that both of the girls can shed their coats, storing them in their packs, but not so hot that they sweat, even as they walk and walk.

“You got this far?” George asks after a few hours, when the sun has fully risen in the sky. Dream stumbles next to her, even though their path is clear of any roots or rocks.

“Uh- Not quite,” she says, clearing her throat. “I- I climbed a tree. To see.”

“Oh,” George shrugs, filing the information away in her Dream memories- which there are a normal amount of. Obviously. “Do you think we’re close, then?”

“I’m not sure,” Dream admits, running her hand along the bark of a tree as she passes it. A bird sings overhead, its song trilling and bright. Dream whistles back, a surprisingly good recreation.

George just watches, eyes tracing Dream’s broad shoulders as she goes back and forth with the bird. She looks beautiful, George admits to herself, with the dappled patches of light bouncing off her golden hair, echoes of a smile in the way she practically skips along the path, although the damn mask blocks any actual sighting of it.

She’s not sure how long they spend like that, but she does know the moment they reach the clearing, because Dream gasps, loud and dramatic. “George, look.”

And George gasps too, when she sees it.

The gap in the trees that the path follows opens into a large clearing, the beginning of an entirely new biome, devoid of the tall trees they’ve traveled under for the past week. This one is far more rugged, the trees scraggly and clinging to rock faces, looking to be one bad day away from wilting away. And the landscape itself- a rocky mess, of canyons and hills, all accentuated by the enormous mountain jutting from the earth.

And George knows what Dream had meant when she said the mountain was new. It looks unnatural, as if it had been pulled from the ground rather than built over time by the movement of the earth. It makes George uneasy, and she runs a hand down the wood of her bow to ground herself.

“Shit,” she says, holding a hand up to shield her eyes and look further across the landscape, for a way around the mountain.

“Shit,” Dream echoes, shifting on her feet next to George. Out of the corner of her eye, George can see Dream’s hand resting on her axe, fingers tense around the handle. “It’s even worse from up close.”

“You feel it too?” George asks, unsurprised. She’s always been shit at recognizing magic, but if this place is making her feel uneasy- Dream’s sixth sense, or whatever the hell it is, must be going nuts.

Dream steps closer to George, and their shoulders brush as Dream steps in front of her, as if to protect her from whatever it is that’s got both of them on edge. It should piss George off- she doesn’t need anyone's protection, thank you very much- but her traitorous body reignites that curl of affection, and George is terrified that she might be blushing.

“I do,” Dream answers, a beat too late. “It’s- bad. We should turn around.”

“What?” George yelps, stepping away from Dream in an instant, all vestiges of affection vanishing in an instant. “Fuck no- It took us a week to get through that forest, no way in hell-”

“George,” Dream says, turning so they’re face to face. Dream is quite a bit taller than George, and she uses it to her advantage now. “This place isn’t safe. There’s- There’s bad magic at play here.”

“I don’t care, Dream,” George grits out, attempting to step around her. Dream mimics her movement, staying firmly in front. “Do I need to remind you again that this is my quest?” Dream flinches, shoulders shaking with it, and George presses. “So let me through. Turn back, if you’re so scared.”

“I’m not scared for me, idiot,” Dream says back.

And George shuts her out. It had been one thing, to drop the walls she’d built bit by bit, for a strange girl in a small village, who she spent every hour of every day with, learning to trust, learning to love- but she was just like everyone else.

“Fuck you,” George shoves past Dream, uncaring of her footing as she breaks into a run, away, away, away. Dream is shouting after her, following, but George refuses to look back. She can’t- she thinks she might break, if she does.

There’s a moment, before the world goes dark, where Dream’s shouting turns panicked, where the gait of her footsteps changes from a run to a sprint. And there’s a moment, barely there, where George feels something grow behind her, power hitting her like a roaring river. And then her vision goes black.

She wakes in a dark room, windowless. For a moment, she thinks that she and Dream must have stopped in a village for a night, begged for a room. But then reality comes crashing down- she remembers their fight, and running, and- nothing.

When she tries to move, she’s surprised to find herself unrestricted, and she quickly stands from the chair, ignoring the ache of sore muscles. There’s a door across from her, wooden and strong looking, and the handle is locked when she tries it. It fits the frame near perfectly, and lets in no light.

That realization is what makes her look up, toward the ceiling, for the source of the light in the room- and she finds something. A floating ball, near the top of the pointed ceiling, bobbing slightly in place. It’s unsettling to look at, the wrongness of it churning George’s stomach.

She starts to examine the room in earnest, running her hands over every inch of the wall she can reach, kicking at the corners where the walls meet each other and the floor. She finds nothing. No cracks, no seams, not even a damn crumb.

She’s trapped. With a deep breath to steady her shaking hands, she sits on the floor in the middle of the room, facing the door. And she waits.

There’s no concept of time in a windowless room. The floating light is unchanging, set in its bobbing. The room is soundless, free of the creak of an old building or the bustle of a strong wind. It’s only her, and her thoughts, crowding the room until she can hardly breathe with how thick the air feels.

And only then, when she’s on the edge of succumbing to panic, her stomach aching with hunger, does the door creep open.

It’s as silent as everything else, and she thinks, for a moment, that she must be hallucinating.

But the creature that steps through the door is like nothing George’s mind could conjure- a beast of a man, his shoulders scraping the sides of the doorframe as he steps through it, his face just close enough to human that it’s unsettling- the eyes, George realizes, peering out of a reptilian face, are human.

A hybrid, then. George has met a few, when they’d come through town. Her parents had always warned her to be careful around them, that their animal instincts made them dangerous. And she’d always done her best to ignore them- going out of her way to greet every one she’d met with genuine kindness, and a healthy dose of curiosity.

But none of them had been like this- hulking and winged, George realizes with a start as she scrambles backward until her back is pressed to the wall, breaths coming short and shallow in fear.

His wings unfurl further as he steps into the room, dwarfing him in size, cramped in the small room. They’re dark, tinted green under the mysterious light, and scaly. Nothing like the avians she’d met, their wings vast but feathered, dainty.

“You’re a brave thing, coming through these lands,” he rumbles, voice low and raspy. It echoes under the vaulted ceiling, and George’s nails dig into her palms. “Most would have turned back.”

“Who are you,” George demands, summoning all her bravado. “Why am I here?” He laughs, and the sound grates on George’s ears. She thinks, foolishly, of Dream’s wheezing laugh, her soft giggles. And she stands.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” he says, shifting his hand to rest it on the handle of an absurdly large sword attached to his hip. “Why don’t you sit down, be a nice little human.”

George, shaking with fear, squares her shoulders. “No.”

“Well, alright then,” he answers with a shrug. “I suppose you won’t be getting any answers then.”

“I-” she starts, ready to throw every insult under the sun at the beast. But he cuts her off.

“Oh, shush. I thought you’d recognize me, at least. I am the subject of your quest, after all,” he says it with a smile that crawls across his face like a thing with too many legs, jerky and unsettling.

“A dragon,” George breathes, fear stealing further into her heart. “So the mountain was dragon magic.”

“Indeed,” the dragon lifts a hand, sharp, dark nails terribly visible. “But I’m only half a dragon. It’s why I can only get this far,” he gestures to his body, twitches his wings. “A full dragon could look just like you- they’ve perfected the art of mimicking humans.”

A chill runs down George’s spine, terribly sobering. The rumors were true, then.

“What do you want from me?” she demands, leaving no room for the man to argue. It’s an art she’s perfected, too used to being shut down in meetings, in hunting groups. “Why am I here? And why are you telling me this?”

“I was curious,” he says with a shrug. “A small thing like you, setting out to kill a dragon? Surely, she must be crazy is what I thought. And now I’ve met you, I don’t think I was wrong.”

“Curious,” George spits. “You can’t just kidnap people because you’re curious.”

“Oh, but it does get so lonely out here. Excuse my bad manners,” he waves a hand, and George jumps. “I wasn’t going to keep you for long. I do so terribly need to see if you are able to kill a dragon.”

“And why shouldn’t I kill you?”

He laughs, again, and George really wishes he would stop doing it. “With what weapon, human? Your bow and those clever little arrows are safely outside of this room.”

“I’ll find a way,” George’s eyes dart to the open door, hidden behind the half-dragon and his daunting wings. He watches her with amusement.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he says. “I could just keep you here, you know. As fun as it would be to watch you fail to slay a dragon.”

“You don’t know anything-” George starts, tensing the muscles in her legs as she prepares to make a move, to duck under those wings and out the door. But before she can even finish speaking, the walls crumble around them.

George throws her hands up, pushing her back against the last standing wall at her side. The room is filled with dust and light that burns George’s eyes, adjusted as she is to a low quantity of it.

Her captor is just as startled as she is, his wings fully splayed out and teeth bared with the great sword in his hands. But his gaze is errant, darting around the remains of the room, looking for what- or who- had caused the chaos, just as George is.

She finds it first, when her eyes lift to the sky, now dotted with stars and the creeping light of dawn. There’s a shadow circling over them, purple mist clinging to great beating wings, far dwarfing those of the man on the ground. He looks up as well when the beast above them roars, and the giant of a man whimpers, sword clattering as it drops to the ground.

A dragon.

And not the half-formed kind she’s just met- this one is all harsh lines and power, radiating off it like sea mist splashing against cliffs. It’s terrifying, in a way that sets George’s heart to a quickened beat, loud as the sound of beating wings.

The dragon is coming toward them, she realizes a second to late, throwing her arms up again as it lands with a thud that shakes the very foundation of the earth, eyes glowing a brilliant purple. And its gaze is on the half-dragon, teeth bared stark white against the black of its scales.

And the other dragon flees. His wings beat erratically as he takes off, sword left in the rubble. The black dragon watches him go, before turning its gaze to George.

George dives for the sword the same moment the dragon opens its mouth, wanting, if anything, to die with a weapon in her hand.

But what comes out of the dragon's mouth isn’t fiery breath, or purple poison, but a strangely familiar voice. “George!”

George, oversized sword clutched in both hands as she stares down the terrible nightmare of a beast using the voice of her companion, thinks she must be dreaming. She’ll wake back in camp, with Dream muttering in her sleep just a bit away from her. George will sigh, and brush the hair from her face with a soft hand, will watch with a fond smile as Dream chases the warmth of her hand even in sleep. Will think longingly of kissing lips she rarely sees, hidden as they are by a carved mask.

“I’m going to kill you,” George declares, using all the strength in her arms and back to lift the sword. She stares the dragon down, feet planted firmly beneath her.

And the dragon tilts its head like a lost puppy, tucking its wings to its body and shuffling its feet. “Ah- Please don’t.”

It’s that voice again. Dream’s. “Stop that,” George demands. “That voice isn’t yours.”

“But- Oh. Oh fuck,” the dragon swears, and that’s- a first, honestly. The first dragon had acted more dragon-like, until the whole cowering in fear thing. This one is just weird.

“Well, if you want to just sit there and let me kill you-” George says, stepping forward. Her arms burn, but adrenaline keeps them steady. “Then I’m not one to protest. I’ll have plenty of time to make up a better story on the way home.”

“You really shouldn’t,” it says, taking a few steps back. George fills the distance with a confident stride, eyes scanning dark scales for a weak point. “Like, you really, really shouldn’t.”

“And why is that, beast,” George asks, calm as day. The sun is rising behind the dragon, and George can admit that its a beautiful creature. “Make your last words good ones.”

“Okay. Okay, first of all,” the dragon says, and it sounds so much like Dream. From tone to delivery, every word is just- Dream. And it’s really throwing George off. “You would not be able to kill me,” George huffs at this, advancing a step further. “And second of all. You’re an idiot.”

And George freezes. Because she can understand everything else- a dragon who speaks like Dream, sure. But the way it had said that word- “Dream?” George whispers, the tip of her stolen sword dropping to the ground.

The dragon’s- Dream’s?- body relaxes, a familiar roiling laugh coming from it- her. “I thought you’d never- George, you wouldn’t really kill me. Right?”

And George really wishes she hadn’t asked that question. Because she can accept, in the moment, that her traveling companion was a dragon the whole time, sure. But thinking further- to what that means for her quest, for her life- isn’t something she’s prepared to do.

“I don’t- Know?” She offers, fully setting the sword down despite her words. Dream sits back on her haunches, exhaling a bit of purple breath.

“Well, that’s a start,” Dream says with a bit of a laugh. “Just warn me if you do decide, okay? It’s only fair.”

“Uh- Sure,” George sits heavily, head spinning. The words Dream and dragon seem to be chasing around her mind in a game of cat and mouse, scrambling all other thoughts. “Why didn’t you just- turn? When I was threatening to kill you?”

“Oh,” Dream ducks her head, and George thinks she would be blushing, if she weren’t a dragon. “I’d be naked.”

And that breaks George. The stress of the day- night- comes out in a choking laugh that makes it hurt to breathe, her chest shaking with it. She can feel Dream watching her, gaze hot on her skin, and George lets everything sink in as she falls apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says when her laughter trails off into the early morning air. “For not listening to you.”

“Oh- Well, I’m sorry for not telling you how I knew it was bad. And for keeping such a big secret from you.”

“We’re even then?” George offers.

“I mean- I feel like I’m getting the better end of the deal here-”

“Yeah, well, you did kind of save me,” she says with a shrug. “That gets you a few points, I guess.”

Dream’s scaly face twists, and George thinks she must be smiling. She shouldn’t be endeared by a fucking dragon, but here she it. It’s easier to admit that sort of thing when she’s as tired as she is.

“Can you just- tune back,” George asks, tentative. “You can have my cloak.”

“I- I guess. But you have to promise to close you’re eyes.”

George rolls her eyes, but obeys, taking her cloak off and placing it between them before turning away and screwing her eyes shut. While she waits, she thinks of her pack, and hopes they’ll be able to find it somewhere- surely the dumbass of a hybrid couldn’t have hidden it too far.

“Wait,” George says suddenly, voice rising. “Was I trapped in a fucking castle?” she opens her eyes, looking around for the first time since the room had been destroyed.

And it’s true. A shitty castle, made shittier by Dream destroying it with her awesome dragon powers, but a castle nonetheless. George groans.

“What?” Dream asks, voice much closer than before. George turns to see her standing, now human again, and several things hit George at once. One- Dream doesn’t have the mask on. She’s- She’s gorgeous, unfortunately for George’s heart, and she’s looking at George with a teasing light in her eyes that George has heard a million times in her voice, but never gotten to see.

And two, Dream is wearing George’s cloak.

It fits her tightly, and she has to hold it closed, but the sight makes George’s head spin. It’s way more skin than she’s ever seen from the other girl, tanned arms on full display and ankles sticking out where the cloak falls too short- and George physically can’t look away.

But Dream seems totally casual as she continues- “You didn’t want to be the damsel in distress? The princess in the tower?”

“I could still kill you,” George grunts, meeting Dream’s eyes with a grin. Unlike her dragon form, Dream’s human eyes are gold, shining like coins in the morning light. “Would be too easy, probably.”

“Sure you could,” Dream teases. “But you’ll never be able to forget who saved who.”

“Oh, shut up,” George groans, dragging her eyes away from Dream and looking again at the mess around them. The ruins of the castle look decrepit, as if it had been destroyed decades ago rather than in the same hour.

“Dragon magic,” Dream says, as if noticing George’s attention. “The castle was tied to his- it’ll fade away now that he’s fled.”

“Huh,” George hums, kicking a stone and watching as it rolls down the mountain, eroding to nothing before it reaches half way. “And I suppose that’s why we couldn’t se it before? Dragon magic?”

“No, that was just a normal cloaking spell,” Dream says it bitterly. “Strong one, though. Took me a while to find you, sorry about that.”

“I had it under control.”

“I believe you,” Dream says, stepping closer and nudging George with her shoulder. “You totally could have killed that guy. I just came in and ruined your moment.”

George shoves her back. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! I swear, on my life, I wasn’t. I really think you could have killed him.”

“Fine. Say I believe you. What’s with the whole damsel in distress thing? That a fantasy for you?” She means it as a tease, but she knows there’s some truth to the words- having traveled with Dream long enough, it would be hard not to notice the little things. Like her eagerness to save George from even the smallest of worries.

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not getting something out of this too. I saw your face when you saw me with your cloak on,” Dream grins wolfishly, which is ironic for a dragon. George hates her. “Me, all cozy in your clothes.”

“I wouldn’t say cozy,” George deadpans. “Looks like your one strong wind away from losing it.”

“And I’m sure you’d hate that,” Dream says, stepping closer. She’s fully in George’s space now, and George has to tilt her chin back to look up at her.

Even with her heart racing in her chest, George keeps her voice flat. “I only just saw your face, idiot. I don’t need to see the rest of you.”

“Bet you’d like to, though.”

“Sounds like projection to me,” George’s eyes drop to Dream’s lips. She thinks of her as a dragon, her teeth so white and sharp, and something in her chest aches with want.

Dream’s face is closer, suddenly, her eyes big and gold, her lips pink and so near to George’s that a phantom feeling crawls across her skin, and she can feel the ghost of the kiss before the real thing steals her breath away.

Dream kisses like she fights- too defensive, too giving to the motion of her opponent. George it, hooking her arms around Dream’s neck and pulling her closer, moving her lips against Dream’s like an arrow set free, unrestrained and searching.

It’s George who pulls away first, gasping for air. Dream just stares, eyes impossibly wide, lips parted still.

“Never kissed a dragon before,” George grins. “Maybe it’s better than killing one. Can never be sure now, I guess.”

And Dream kisses her again.

#cq.writing #fem dnf week 2024 #this is almsot 5k how the hell did that happen

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kiiwiigii · 1 year ago

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The Red-Eyed Boy pt. iii

Pt. One | Two | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Alec returns and shows you how sorry he is. *wink, wink*

Warnings:

Smidge of angst

Smidge of bondage

Straight up smut

Word Count: 3,130

A/N: Today I learned that suck at writing smut, but please enjoy anyways. As with all my Alec fics, he is aged up. Also, I am fucking obsessed with this gif.

Tags: @rosedpetal, @lack-lust-3r, @badass-daisy-22

Alice and Bella eyed me warily from their spot on the kitchen table as I padded around the kitchen. It was my turn for dinner tonight and I was working on a new recipe.

"Please stop looking at me like that. I'm not about to keel over dead and I'm definitely not about to poison Bella right before she gets married."

I grinned when Bella scrunched up her nose in annoyance.

"You're not gonna die because you're tied to Edward through a piece of paper, Bells."

"Says you." She grumbled.

"Have you heard from him?" Alice asked softly.

"No." I pursed my lips.

It had been nearly two weeks, and I hadn't heard a damn thing from Alec. I had called and texted only to be ignored and left on read. I knew he'd be mad, but for the love of God, he was taking this too far. I just wanted to strangle him. I had spent the first week moping before trying to shake myself out of it. I refused to let myself fall into the state that Bella had after Edward left.

Although it was really hard not to. I still had my moments, usually in the evenings when I was alone.

I paused in the middle of chopping an onion, looking over my shoulder at Alice. Her visions were the only thing I could really count on right now, unless I had a vision of my own. Unfortunately, sleep had been avoiding me, and when I did sleep nothing came to me.

She shook her head sadly, indicating that she hadn't seen anything. Yet. However, she also hadn't seen anything different from her previous visions, so nothing had really changed, and that gave me hope.

"So, Y/N, we have your first dress fitting tomorrow." Alice, thankfully, changed the subject.

"Ooh yay! Do I get to see Bella's dress?"

Bella groaned before plonking her head onto the table. She was so easy to tease.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to marry me." Edward entered the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket.

I smiled watching them all together, happy to watch the little scene from afar. Eventually I had to turn back around, doing my best to hum a tune in my head, both to distract myself from the situation with Alec and so Edward wouldn't pick up on my depressing thoughts. This should be a happy time.

Somehow, I don't think I was fooling anyone.

It was official. I hated weddings and anything to do with them. I was almost positive that had I not been in a house full of vampires, Rosalie would have stuck a few pins in me on purpose.

It was dark by the time I finally arrived home, and all I really wanted to do was shower and pass out on my bed. Keeping up a relatively happy façade almost 24/7 was exhausting.

The house was dark, and I suddenly remembered that dad was out on one of his camping trips with a friend. Well, at least I would have the house to myself, and I could be as depressed as I wanted.

I went straight to my room to gather some pajamas and a towel. I almost felt too tired to even shower, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to make sure I do some basic self-care. Throwing my bag onto the bed, I began to strip.

"You should keep your window locked."

I jumped and let out a scream, quickly covering myself, dress already hanging half off.

It was Alec, propped up on my bed, another book in hand. How had I not seen him?? I even threw my bag in his direction.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I wheezed at him, trying my best to get my racing heart back under control.

"Not particularly." His eyes roamed over me, from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my neck, where my pomegranate seed necklace hung. And then the dangling straps of my dress. "You look beautiful, tesoro."

I blinked rapidly, trying my best to figure out what the hell was happening. I hadn't heard from Alec in nearly a month and here he was, just sitting here. In my room. On my bed. As if nothing had ever happened.

"Where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me?"

He simply eyed me before closing the book with a thump.

"I was extremely… angry. There was a while where I did not really have control of myself. I even scared Jane." He admitted. "I didn't want to take it out on you. Or for you to see that side of me."

I glared at him.

"So, you just disappear without a word? Didn't bother telling me that you were okay and that you just needed space? You're aware that I've had visions of you since I was like, six years old, right? I've seen you angry."

"Not like this, you haven't." He said quietly.

"Do you know what I thought? I thought you had left me. Despite whatever Alice's visions tell her, I know that they can change at the drop of a hat. I was just sitting here waiting, praying that you wouldn't change your mind."

Fuck, here come the tears.

He was next to me in a heartbeat, hands cupping my face. I tried to back away, but he kept his grip firm.

"I would never leave you, Y/N." He said softly, wiping the tears away. "Ever. I have never been good at relationships. I have always kept myself at arm's length, but you, you are different. And when I saw you on that field, after the battle, I had never been so scared and angry in my life."

He paused for a minute, searching. "Had I lost you, I would have burned the world down."

My breath hitched in surprise, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. He kissed me then, and I allowed it, wrapping my arms around his neck as he reached for my waist. His kiss was soft and controlled, while mine was bordering on desperation.

"Don't you ever do that to me again." He whispered against my lips, a warning.

Why did that turn me on and piss me off at the same time?

"I'm sorry, what was that? Because it sure didn't sound like an apology, Alec."

He pulled me flush against him, nipping at my collarbone in reproach. I hissed in pain, but he quickly soothed it over with his tongue.

"Then let me show you how sorry I am." He whispered.

He pulled me in for a heated kiss and I couldn't help but gasp. Alec took the opportunity to dip his tongue into my mouth again, and the moan that worked its way up my throat had him growling possessively.

I could already feel my nipples tightening and the wet heat between my legs.

I grabbed him by the collar to pull him closer. He gladly obliged and before long, he had me pressed into the bed, right underneath him, his lips giving slow languid kisses anywhere he could reach.

"Alec." My voice was caught in my throat.

Goddammit. He hadn't even gotten me out of my clothes before he had me begging. Hell, he had barely even touched me.

And I was supposed to be mad at him, dammit!

He paused, lips at the swell of my breast. Finally, he lifted himself up so he could look me in the eye, searching my face.

"Do you trust me?"

I nodded my head furiously.

"I need to hear you say it, Y/N."

"I trust you."

I was practically panting.

Alec produced a long strip of gauzy fabric and slowly tied my hands together, gauging my reaction, before putting them above my head.

"Did you come prepared with that?" I gaped at him.

"No. I took it from your bag." He smirked.

My bag? Since when did he have the time to go through my bag? I looked at my tied wrists again, trying to wrack my brain as to why I had a long ass strip of-

'Oh my god.'

It was the sash to my bridesmaid's dress. I know I hadn't put it in there. The last time I had seen it- Alice. She fucking knew. She had to. She had a vision and didn't even tell me. Granted, if this was a part of her vision, I would be highly embarrassed to hear her explain exactly what she saw.

"Now." Alec put my hands above my head again, and then trailed his own hands down my arms to my collarbone, thumbing over the mark he had placed on it earlier. "Your hands stay put above your head until I say otherwise. If they do not, I stop. No matter what I am in the middle of." He warned, pausing to make sure that I understood. "Are you okay with this? If not, we can stop."

I shook my head back and forth frantically.

"Y/N, I need you need to say it out loud."

"Yes." I breathed.

"Good. If you become uncomfortable at any point you are to tell me."

"Yes sir." It was out of my mouth before I even realized it and I blushed furiously.

"Are you sure you're a virgin?" He teased.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I teased back, a little breathless.

Alec's brows raised before he smirked, leaning in closer, mouth right next to my cheek.

"I think I am going to enjoy this very much." His hands began to make their way past my collar bone to cup my breasts through the fabric of my dress, his thumbs flicking slowly back and forth over my nipples.

My back arched in a gasp, and he let out a hum, pleased with my reaction. Soon I felt more and more skin being exposed to the cool night air, his cold lips and tongue following right behind it, licking and nipping his way until, aside from my bra, I was fully exposed from the waist up. I blushed as he sat back, admiring the view.

"You are truly beautiful, mio cara." He breathed.

His cold hands caressed every inch of exposed skin, purposely avoiding the spots that I wanted him to touch the most. I pouted up at him and he swiped a thumb across my lip.

"I must admit Y/N, I like seeing you like this. And I think you like it too."

Slowly, I gave his thumb a long lick before sucking it into mouth. His eyes darkened even further, and I could practically feel the rumble of possessiveness in his chest.

"Careful, amore." His voice was now husky and strained.

I released his thumb, edging my teeth along the sides and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were supposed to be apologizing."

His eyes were now pitch black.

"I think you forget who's in control here."

I let out a squeak as he moved aside and ripped my dress the rest of the way down, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He settled himself between my legs, to nip and kiss his way along the inside of my thighs.

I sucked in a sharp breath when he placed a kiss right over my covered mound, and then nuzzled into it. My hands jerked and he looked up at me, remaining still.

"Hands, amore." He chided.

I immediately put them back in place, wriggling my hips in anticipation. Finally, he slid my panties down, revealing my inner most self, glistening and wet just for him.

"Perfect."

It was the only thing I heard before his mouth was on me and my back arched off the bed yet again.

Keeping perfect eye contact with me, he gave me long slow licks, delving into me with his tongue. And then he found my clit. I couldn't help it, I cried out, my hands immediately coming down to lace themselves through his hair.

This wasn't an apology; this was fucking torture.

He paused with a growl.

"Hands, amore."

"But- but-"

He lifted himself up slightly, a warning look in his dark eyes. "Hands."

"Alec." I whined, wriggling my hips again and trying push him back down. "Please."

"You know the rules, principessa."

"Did you just call me princess?"

He just smirked. "You're learning. Now, hands. If I have to tell you again, I will tie you to the bed."

'You just may have to do that.' I thought.

He watched me for a moment more before slowly lowering himself back down, wrapping his arms around my thighs to keep my hips level. He began his slow assault on me yet again and I did my absolute best to keep my arms above my head. It was working so far... barely.

Before long I could feel a warm heat beginning to build low in my stomach.

"Oh god, please don't stop." I chanted. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop."

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, all I knew what that it felt good, and he absolutely had to keep going. Otherwise, I was sure I was going to die right then and there.

And then the bastard stopped.

"Alec." I let out a low whine.

He crawled back up to me, placing a kiss on my lips and I groaned at the taste of my arousal on him.

"No cumming just yet, amore." He swept his tongue along my lips. "The only cumming you will be doing is on my cock."

I almost choked. "Have- have you always been this dirty?"

"You have no idea." He bit my earlobe and I squirmed at his words. “And this is only just the beginning.”

"Well, it looks like won't be doing much of anything, since you're still dressed."

"That can easily be remedied."

My eyes widened as he slipped off his shirt. I had always known he was muscular but there was a big difference between feeling it and seeing it. Next came his pants and underwear, and I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working.

How was that going to fit??

"Like what you see?”

I simply nodded my head, my mind still trying to process the situation I was in... and the fact that his cock was rather... large.

He leaned over and began untying my hands. I raised a brow at him.

"I want you clinging to me when you cum."

Oh fuck.

My hands immediately went to explore his naked chest when he caught my hand and kissed my fingertips.

"Are you still okay?"

"Alec, I swear to God if you don't fuck me-"

He cut me off, crushing his lips to mine and I suddenly felt him nudging at my entrance. He sat back briefly, rubbing himself in my juices, preparing.

"Eyes on me, amore."

I swiftly looked back up at him. I don't think I could have taken my eyes off him in that moment.

Finally, finally, I felt him enter me ever so slowly. I let out a hiss of pain, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets, and he stopped, letting me adjust for a minute, all the while never breaking eye contact. This, this was something else. I had never felt so full.

"Fuck, you're tight."

I let out a whimper.

"It's okay, mio cara." He kissed away the tears from my face, I hadn't even realized that I was crying. "I'm going to move now."

And boy did he move. It took a few thrusts before the pain subsided and then I felt as if I was flying. He kept his thrusts steady and deep, his hands roaming my sides before cupping my breasts and placing gently kisses along the edges. And then proceeded to close his mouth on one of my nipples through the lace.

"Alec."

He didn't reply, deciding to suck harder and scrape against the sensitive buds with his teeth instead. If he kept this up, I wasn't going to last long, and I think he knew it. He sat up again, but this time he angled my hips up and I was suddenly seeing stars. He was hitting my sweet spot now and I couldn't contain my moans any longer. I could feel it building, and building, and building.

"Don't you dare stop." I panted.

"Eyes on me, darling." He ordered, grabbing my face, and making me look him in the eyes. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come on my cock."

Oh, God. He was speaking to me in Italian, and I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was saying, but it was hot.

"Alec, please. Make me cum. I want to come."

"Fuck, so tight for me." He thrust harder and I could feel the walls of my pussy starting to tighten up. "I want to see you come undone around me."

"A-Alec!"

He forced me to look up at him again as I came hard, legs wrapping around his waist as he nearly collapsed on top of me. If I was seeing stars before, now I was suddenly seeing a whole fucking galaxy.

"Fuck." He kissed me deeply as I felt him spasming inside me, cool liquid coating the walls of my pussy.

He hovered like that for a long moment, his kisses turning into soft, languid ones, his hands roaming in even softer caresses. Finally, he pulled out of me, and let his eyes wonder over me. I'm sure I looked a mess, but he seemed to like what he saw, judging by the smirk on his face.

"Come, amore. Let's get you cleaned up."

"I don't think I can walk." I closed my eyes, doing my best to breathe and not die from great sex.

"I can definitely help you there."

I nearly yelped as he lifted me from the bed bridal style.

"Is this your way of saying you want shower sex?" I wriggled my eyebrows at him.

"I had not really thought of it, but if you insist."

I laughed and snuggled into his chest.

He paused a moment, really looking me over now. "I am truly sorry, Y/N. For everything."

I placed a hand on his cheek. "Apology accepted."

NEXT - (Outtake)

{Masterlist}

Translation (Done via Google): Tesoro: Darling/Treasure Mio Cara: My darling. Principessa: Princess

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#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfic #reader insert

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anothertransauthor · 1 year ago

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Ok I’m antsy to write something starting out just to see what I can do. I’m going to start with the ABC sfw list first for the band + Charles. If you want to see any additional characters you can comment or ask!

ABC Headcannons (SFW) Nathan Explosion

Summary: like I said this is Nathan’s full ABC list. I’m going to be as detailed as I possibly can for your viewing pleasure ;). I’m feeling Pickles or Murderface next.

Warning: slight angst // dipping into they’re toxic traits they’re learning to overcome

Word count: 4,410 words (oops!)

.. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Nathan is a bit apprehensive at the start of your relationship due to his rocky previous ones. He likes you, don’t get him wrong, but he’s never really gotten the chance to get so close to someone like he has with you. He’s still trying to wrap his head around how he hadn’t scared you away when he thought you were just some fan. Still you wiggled your way into his Iron Maiden heart, open for you to remove the defensive impalers he’d put up.

After he’s learned to accept the affection you bestowed upon him graciously, and patiently might I add, he uses the tactics he’s learned from you to be a better boyfriend. He asks about your day, genuinely enthralled by your voice. Nathan swears he could listen to you for hours even if you really weren’t talking about anything.

Massaging his shoulders and back was always the key to calming him down whenever he was insatiably irritated. He figured it would surely get his message across to you, who doesn’t love the intimate act of vanquishing the poisons of a stressful day with your own hands? It didn’t matter where you were, if you weren’t having a good time he’d find some way to expel the tension. Say you were backstage with the band after a show and you were overwhelmed with the lights and the noise, he’d take your hand and gently massage it thoroughly. He’d roll his thumb pads over each finger, each knuckle- no joint left aching. Even if he only held one hand, every inch of that hand would be tended to. If they were cold, clammy, and anxiously shaking, they were surely warm and quelled now. Despite Nathan’s stature, despite his large hands, and despite what his attitude had lead you to believe, he was gentle with his hands.

When all else failed, Nathan resorted to what he was best at to convey just how much he adored you. Writing was always Nathan’s go to outlet to organize the scrambled thoughts in his mind, it’s apparent in his music- brutal poems that paired with equally intense music. Racing thoughts and far away words always made more sense when he put the pen to the paper, the unmoving paragraphs further cemented everything he felt. You had started a notebook to house all of the eloquent letters he’s written for you to remind you that at the end of the day you were the one he’d return to. Your heart was home to his.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

Nathan is all about going out and doing things with people he’s particularly friendly with. Expected to go on your fair share of road trips and lots of camping. It’s all the activities he enjoyed with his dad, he considered him a friend so why wouldn’t he bring his friends along for the experience?

You never took Nathan to be a survival buff, but given his himbo nature you weren’t that surprised. He’s taught you a lot about being in the wilderness whenever he had time between records.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh my gods, if his arms aren’t constricted around you he will not sleep well that night. Your warmth has become so incredibly soothing to him, he falls asleep almost as soon as your head rests on his chest. Nathan is essentially a 250 pound teddy bear at the end of a rough day where all he wanted to do was wind down with you. He really enjoyed how your smaller frame slotted with his, how natural it felt to wrap his arms around you and stay like that forever.

Nathan had a 3 point plan when it came to his night time routine with you; Step one: acquire the snuggle bug (a nickname he’d drunkenly bestowed upon you when you both retired to his room after a drinking contest with pickle), Step two: profit, Step three: uhhhhh. Ok so maybe it was more of a two point plan, but his point still stands.

If the secret softie couldn’t fall asleep as fast as he’d intended, he’d watch the rhythmic rise and fall off of your chest as you slumbered peacefully against his big burly chest. His hands would slip under your shirt to rub your back, or stomach depending on how you slept that night, in idle circles. The feeling of your skin no matter if it was smooth or blemished, he never cared either way, soothed him more than he thought it could. You were real, you were here- with him! And gods did you look exhilarating in his arms, trusting him completely as you dreamed.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There was something in Nathan that constantly made him want to impress you as your relationship grew increasingly more docile. He picked up more around the areas the two of you occupied most at Mordhaus; cleaning up the empty beer cans and putting away any stray bongs or other illicit drugs that were littered around the main room the previous night, or he’d take the time to clean his room and bathroom a tad more he usually would when it was just him. It was never about getting a deep clean, he wasn’t embarrassed to have you over when his room was messy, yet something about you made him more motivated to do more than just sit on his ass with you.

Settling down never crossed his mind until you, that was always something he’d associated with parents and old people- you settled down when you wanted to start a family and give up your career and anything that gave you substance. It was always love or hate when he thought about it. On one hand, he absolutely loved you and wanted to spend his life with you. His parents always seemed so happy with each other even after all the years they’d spent together, so maybe it couldn’t be too bad. Yet on the other hand he wouldn’t give up the band or the empire he built for you, you never wanted him to.

Who said you two had to slow down or give up to settle completely into each other? Nathan’s wanted to settle up with you, so he’d said, to never slow down or stop experiencing the fast life he was so accustomed to.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The way Nathan would break up with you depends on how deep he was into the relationship with you. He wouldn’t have any qualms about bluntly telling you to stay out of his life if he wasn’t feeling it, and he would tell you the moment the thought arose. He’s been with a few women who’d overstayed their welcome and he’s learned not to dance around it if he wanted the comforting discomfort of his loneliness back. Alternatively, if he’s been invested, gave a shit, and was receptive to you opening your soul to him, he’d be more delicate. Whether it was a fault on his end, or you had finally had enough of his baggage he could feel it. He could feel when your laugh didn’t hold the same joy in it like it used to, your eyes didn’t look at him with the enthusiasm he’s grown accustomed to anymore. When Nathan noticed the signs, it was the most brutal pain he’s ever felt, emotionally that is. He never wanted you to feel like you were trapped with him, it’s just as bad if not worse for sticking around just because he was famous in his eyes.

Much like his affection for you, the man has to put all of his feelings, all the words he has left to say to you, and his best wishes for you all on paper. It’s not a script mind you, more of a practice for how he’d approach you. He felt pitiful as he stood in front of his mirror as you slept in the bed just feet from him, mumbling tiredly as he rehearsed the best approach. Nathan didn’t want to completely break your spirits or guilt trip you, the only thing that has brought him joy was your happiness and even if you had to find it with someone else he’d be content knowing you weren’t forcing something that had died out a long time ago.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The moment he felt like he could talk to you openly without the guard of his walls, he knew he wanted to be yours forever. Mind you this would be over the course of at least a couple of years as you grew with the band. He was a busy man and in the beginning he’d rather do anything else that sit down to have a conversation he thought he’d regret at the time.

And now here he was five years later, the best version of himself that he’s been in gods knows how long, commissioning a ring he’d deem as the perfect oath to you. He’d been planning this for the last six months, between working on the music and getting his band mates to swear on their lives that they wouldn’t fuck anything up the time has passed him by. When everything was perfect he put his plan into motion. While on some vacation he’d pull you aside, away from the band and any prying eyes and propose to you. He’d been so caught up in not crying that he definitely didn’t notice Pickle and Toki recording him while skwisgaar recovered from his preemptive cringe to see everything went surprisingly well.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

While Nathan was essentially a brick wall, he has learned to carry himself a bit lighter while he was around you. He used to be heavy handed whenever he handled you but since then he figured out how to turn the brutality meter down. Not to say he didn’t rough house with you, play fights were a guarantee.

Emotionally, it took several trials and tribulations to find that sweet spot he could handle. While he did figure out how to talk a bit easier with you there were still certain topics he’d be blunt and a little hurtful, though it’s never his intention. There’s just some things he needed to work through himself before he drug you into it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Nathan’s arms are two heavy magnets when it comes to you. Anytime you were cooking, washing dishes, or hell just standing around, you’d come to expect Nathan to hug you from behind at any given moment.

He’d also liked to pick you up just to marvel at how light you were! He also enjoyed how you’d instinctively wrap your arms around him but don’t tell him I told you that. Any time he could have you like that he would, most often pulling you in his lap no matter where you were (it was also a tactic to scare any wandering eyes).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Just like with the engagement, he would tell you the moment he knew he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. It took a lot of time, you showing your love for him through your actions so you didn’t scare him off. Nathan is grateful for it and it certainly had him thinking about it. With each passing day he grew more confident that his feelings were concrete.

When he told you, it wasn’t anything special, hell if you ask him he probably wouldn’t remember what you were doing when he did. You could have been laying in bed, you humming a soft tune and he was just laying there. Whatever the case was he wanted to catch you in your most candid moment, being the you- the person he fell for, before he finally said those three magic words.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

It’s Nathan fucking Explosion. You were the one thing he truly had any incentive to keep for himself and himself alone. If he so much as catches anyone glancing your way they caught his cold intimidating glare in response. He knew better than to make a scene, the first incident nearly killed you with how embarrassed you were. He definitely pulled the “do you know who I am” card and slung a few swears, very loudly might I add.

He would take every step he could to keep you close to prevent anyone from making that move. Every possible chance he could get you were in his lap, leaning against his chest, or wrapped around his arm. It was definitely something he needed to work on, but it was gonna be a bit of a bumpy road. For now you appreciate the thought behind it at the very least.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

You had actually initiated the first kiss, but when he found his footing he found it. He was breathless as he watched you crawl over him, wanting to do something but didn’t want to scare you incase you changed your mind last minute. The kiss grew fervent quickly as his lips molded to yours in his own sloppy rhythm.

Usually when he was itching for a kiss you’d catch him staring at your lips and then quickly away nonchalantly. Other times, he’d turn your face from what ever you were doing or whoever you were talking to to steal a quick one. And no matter the length or intensity he always held so much passion with each connection.

Nathan was a sucker for kissing the top of your head. Whatever shampoo you used always seemed to lull the giant into a docile state as he hugged you from behind. Pickle mentioned it as something akin to witchcraft how fast you could switch up his mood. Alternatively, when he’d lay his heavy head in your lap he’d occasionally turn his head to kiss at your thighs. No matter how small or thick they were he adored how comfortable they were to lay on.

When it came to receiving, he was fairly partial to cheek kisses. It tickled him how gentle you were with him not matter what you did, even though you knew he was the farthest thing from fragile. As unbrutal as it was, he couldn’t help but enjoy every attack you’d unleash upon him, smothering his face in peppered kisses. In addition, he liked getting neck kisses, not even in a sexual way. Lately he’d say the most metal thing was waking up to your partner grazing their lips against his throat before following it up with a proper good morning kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children were very rarely an obstacle Nathan had come across, even when he did he had at least nough common sense not to act like a complete jack ass around them. He’d goof around, tell a grey joke and generally just get along until they could be done with the whole situation.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Nathan usually slept in so you were up before him most mornings. The man almost always had an iron grip around you preventing you from moving until you, playfully, threatened to piss the bed. Then you’d earned yourself a half asleep “ick” before the heavy limb was begrudgingly removed from you.

When both of you were finally ready for the day, the first thing you did together was stuff your faces with breakfast food and down some black coffee to shake off the rest of the sleep that plagued your systems. After a brief discussion of what your respective plans were for the day you’d go on about your separate ways.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It was never a guarantee when you’d settle down on any given night. Nathan was a busy man after all, and that included when he wasn’t doing anything music related. You couldn’t complain that’s just how the band was. Nearly constant procrastination to get stuff done was the only unchanging factor, so you were dragged around to all their adventures and shenanigans.

When you did finally retreat to the bedroom at the end of the night, the first thing on your itinerary was climbing into a shower. Lately Nathan’s skin has been breaking out from the stage makeup he wears, but fear not for you figured out a skin care routine for him. And it started with you helping him wash his face properly in the shower. Man has a 6-in-one that he uses for everything.

After showers always consisted of sitting on the bed, wrapped in towels while you talked about any and everything to procrastinate actually getting dressed and settling down. Remember how I said Nathan procrastinates everything? When you finally did get up to get dressed you very rarely went to your own closet, instead you opted just to take one of Nathan’s massive shirts so you didn’t have to sleep in pants.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It didn’t take long to realize that you weren’t going away that easily, and it took even less time for him to realize that you weren’t like a ‘normal’ fan of his. You had confided your fair share of secrets in him that he thought he wouldn’t care about. He found himself holding onto every word you said and realized that maybe he should let you in the metaphorical door. Usually it was small details or a look into how his thought process goes.

Whenever he told you something new it was seldom prompted. It was like you’d stumbled into a secret area in a video game while you were exploring, and the character you’d been trailing with suddenly drops some lore without warning. Despite how odd his patterns were it made him all the more intriguing to you, learning about him as an individual and putting the puzzle pieces together.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Patience was like a generator for him, the less stress he had plugged in metaphorically, the more patience he had. But as more and more things were piled on the battery drained faster. He tried not to be irritable around you, you never in your time with him ever gave him a reason to be mad. He didn’t want you to be in the splash zone if he snapped.

The only exception to the battery rule he had was if anything happened to you. He can remember all too vividly being at some bar full of regular jack offs with you and the band. Someone where in the background while you and the band were laughing about something Pickle had said, a bar fight had started. At first Nathan shrugged it off, it was annoying but it didn’t ruin the atmosphere. That was until one of them threw a half full bottle of Natty Light just above your head, having missed its initial target. The glass shattered and nicked your shoulder, the remaining booze that splashed didn’t do much to help the situation as you winced hardly at the stinging.

None of the band knew Nathan had hopped over the table until they heard him toss a couple of rage filled swears at the culprit.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Having always been slow to learn things, Nathan took it upon himself to keep a section of his notebook dedicated to your favorite anything. It could be as small as your favorite color or as important as an allergy you’d mentioned so he didn’t accidentally gift you something you couldn’t eat/enjoy. He would challenge himself to memorize important dates and names you’d told him in passing to surprise you when he asks about them later.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?)

The singers favorite moment in the time he’s met you would probably have to be the first time he heard you sing. As insignificant as it may seem, he did really enjoy your voice.

He was walking back to his room after having a particularly frustrating conversation with Charles. When he grew closer he could hear muffled noises that sounded like humming. Slowly, he opened the door to see you standing by the window, looking out over the rest of Mordhaus as you sang. It was a song he’s never heard but you carried it so well.

Nathan shut the door quietly and made his way over, any frustration he had faded into the back ground. His arms wrapped around your waist and he had to bite back a chuckle as you squealed. The moment was short but it was the softest he’s felt for anyone ever, and he has you to thank for that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Much like the jealousy segment showcased, Nathan is usually on top of everything when it comes to your protection. He’s a fuckin brick shithouse so he can handle anything physically. During the course of your relationship with him, he’s most likely hospitalized a small country worth of people who tried to make any kind of move to hurt you— being in the spot light did have its risks you know.

Security ran deeper than just what he could do physically. Having to overcome fear and rejection, he’s learned a small handful of coping mechanisms. He uses that knowledge to help you whenever he recognizes the signs of panic or in general just discomfort. Sometimes you’d have to remind him that you’re ok, that it wasn’t that serious. He just worries about you!

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Nathan’s parents were always he blueprint when it came to his perspective of love. When he got famous he never thought he’d reach it, but now that he has you he’s ecstatic to use every trick he’s observed in his youth. On dates and anniversaries expect a plethora of cliche gifts: big bouquets of roses, stuffed animals, jewelry.

He engraved each and every date that something important has happened on in his brain, and also written several times on calendars and in his notebook, so there was absolutely no chance he’d forget anything. He’s working with Charles to plan events and parties for your anniversary, the big fancy ones and not just something he’d usually throw together with the guys.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Nathan tends to shut down some days when he’d have a particularly bad dream…speaking of he’s rather private about his dreams. Any time you’d ask what was on his mind he refused to elaborate further than just “mm’bad dream..”

He was a diva in his own way, if it wasn’t perfect it wasn’t accepted. So many albums lost, green rooms wrecked, tours nearly ruined. Though it makes you uncomfortable to see him regress to tantrums sometimes, you chalked it up to the fame. These moments were small in comparison to your relationship as a whole.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Nathan takes at least some pride in his appearance, anything so he didn’t fall to Williams level. He did have an Old Spice 4-in-1: shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash. Why have so many products that all smelled different? It was a lot on his senses so he uses that so all of him was clean and smelled like…wait what did the bottle say? Congealed Liquified Corpse…it was a Dethklok x Old Spice collab. Brutal name aside, it actually made him smell earthy, piney even— it was a joke in a bottle.

Shower practice aside, he did the basics when it came to his actual appearance; he’d comb his hair, brush his teeth, wipe his ass. It did the job well enough and he was ok with how he looked.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely he would, you’d become his home. You domesticated the beast and he was forever putty in your hands. Without you, he’d feel lost. There was no hole in his heart, it was just gone— you were his heart. Any time you had to leave for some other business Charles had you doing, he’d just mope around alone in the room if he wasn’t distracting himself with the band. Even then, the party felt incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Nathan is very fluent in French, like he sounds like he grew up speaking it. He most definitely sweet talks you in French. Alternatively he would get away with saying the most outta pocket and down right filthy shit to you and no one has a clue until they see you quickly turn red.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In a partner, he really doesn’t want just some fan— he’s been burned way too many times. They’re shallow and don’t even want to know who he is as a person, it’s slimy and not to mention very one sided.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

See his thre- uhh two point plan, in the cuddle section. He won’t sleep well if he isn’t tangled up with you. In addition if you sleep with any kind of noise going on, he’d adapt and now he can’t sleep without anything going on in the background. Noticing his infatuation with the ocean lately, you introduced him to whale songs to sleep to and boy howdy is he out like a light whenever you turn it on.

Ok I got a little carried away, but I’m really proud of it! Let me know what you think of my big pushover- aha!

Keep those requests in coming! I’m loving the ideas so far. Up next is trans! Pickles x gn! Reader! What’s the plot? No body knows, babe! It it will certainly be an adventure that’s for sure!

Stay tuned, dethfans!

#metalocalypse #dethklok #x reader #nathan explosion #metalocalypse x reader #dethklok x reader #nathan explosion x reader #gn reader #Nathan is such a pushover I’ve decided #you have no fucking idea how long this took #I planned to have this out two days ago #tumblr mobile app keeps glitching on save ugh #anyways keep the requests pouring this is so fun!

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