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scoonsalicious · 5 months ago

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Unsatisfied, Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: After game night, Bucky promised to ruin you come morning. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Explicit Sexual Content: Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (FaceTime sex, hand stuff), Pocket still not being over her trauma, mentions of past injury.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hi, besties!

It's me, ya gurl, with Part 2 of the post-Unwanted one-shot that's become a three-shot, lol! I fucking missed the absolute hell out of these two, and I'm so happy to be back with them for a little bit. Writing for Pocket and her Bucky is just like... I don't know. It's like I'm not even making stuff up, just channeling it, because it comes so easily, unlike literally everything else I try to write. I can't say when I'm going to resume WFLT. To be perfectly candid, I might put it on extended hiatus while I work on other things that seem to come easier right now. I don't know yet. I just want to be up front with everyone.

Here's where my attentions are currently focused: Finishing Unsatisfied, an untitled collab with @mrsbuckybarnes1917, writing Hunted, and plotting Unbroken. For some reason, there is just a giant Gandalf standing between me and WFLT, waving his staff and shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I'll let you know when I whip him into the abyss. And yes, that does make me the Balrog in this scenario, and I, too, fall to my death in the depths of Moria. It's an imperfect analogy, okay? At least I'm not Sean Bean, dying all over the place.

Anyway, enjoy more Pocket and Bucky! I know I do! xoxo

“I miss you,” you moaned into the screen of your phone. Your voice sounded pitiful, even to your own ears, but you were lonely and you didn’t have the shame to hide it. Especially not from the man you were talking to.

“I miss you, too, sweets,” Bucky said with a dejected sigh that let you know your feelings of misery were mutual. “It shouldn’t be longer than a few more days, then I’ll come back home to ya, and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, his promise setting your skin awash in goosebumps. ‘Where you’d left off’ had been finally, finally, coming back together after nearly twelve months of self-imposed celibacy, spending the first night together, in your new apartment, wrapped in each other’s arms, with his co—

“At least we got our bubble bath before things went fully to shit,” Bucky added, a smile playing on his lips from across the distance, as though he knew exactly where your thoughts had taken you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, remembering the feel of him, so warm and solid, against your back in the tub. After he’d kicked out your friends from the impromptu game night they’d decided to throw at your new place, and you’d gotten over your freakout when Sam had inadvertently joked about Bucky ‘cheating’ at a card game, the two of you had spent a much needed evening just in each other’s company. Intimacy, but not sex, the way your therapist had recommended, with Bucky promising to ruin you come daybreak.

Instead, though, a call had come from Fury in the middle of the night. A group of terrorists, counting some several enhanced among them, had stolen a biological weapon and were threatening to decimate the population of Shanghai unless the Chinese government gave into their demands, and so, The Avengers, Bucky included, had been called away.

You’d offered to go, just so you could stay close to him. You’d never even leave the Quinjet, you’d promised, out of the action, but neither Bucky nor Tony was eager to see you back on the field, not after what had happened the last time. Even though you’d had your last reconstructive surgery months ago, and your doctors had given you the all clear, between your boyfriend and your pseudo-brother, you weren’t leaving New York anytime soon.

That had been over a week ago. Negotiations with the terrorists had not gone according to plan, and they were probably going to have to fight it out. And as for you? You were ready to climb the fucking walls.

“How’s wedding stuff going?” Bucky asked, referring to your role as Maid of Honor in Pepper and Tony’s upcoming nuptials. “Keeping you busy?”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject, Barnes,” you practically growled at him. “I am so fucking desperate for your cock, I swear to god–”

From somewhere off camera, you could hear a cacophony of sound– a combination of Sam and Clint’s uproarious laughter and Tony shouting “JESUS CHRIST BARNES, USE YOUR FUCKING HEADPHONES!”

Bucky’s face had turned crimson in the video call, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that came bubbling from you as he abruptly stood up and removed himself into a darker, quieter area.

“Shit,” he exhaled as he got himself re-situated in the new, hopefully more private, space. He ran a hand down his face in embarrassment. “Didn’t mean for them to hear all that, doll.”

You laughed as you twisted a strand of hair around your finger in the way you knew he liked. “What happened to your earbuds, baby?” you teased.

Bucky reached up and pulled an airpod from his ear, looking at the small device as though it had personally offended him. “I thought they were on!” he exclaimed. “If I’d known I’d been broadcasting you for the whole fucking team to hear, I woulda gone somewhere a lot more private to begin with.”

“The whole team?” you asked, cautiously. You didn’t want to say any names, but you needed to know if he was there, too. If he’d heard you.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, catching your meaning and lowering his voice. “Rogers is here.”

You swallowed and nodded solemnly. You hadn’t spoken to Steve Rogers since he’d made his horrible confession to you in the hospital, of the ways he’d manipulated your life to keep you and Bucky apart. All culminating in Bucky’s betrayal, your temporary death, the loss of your unborn baby.

“Are you alright?” you asked, thinking only of Bucky in the moment. It was easy for you to stay away from Steve, to ignore him– your anger toward him had far surpassed any level of fondness you’d once had for Captain America, but you knew how much harder it was for Bucky to break a bond of nearly a century. Not that you would have ever forbidden him from reconnecting with Steve, if that was what he had wanted. No, Bucky had decided on his own that some things couldn’t be forgiven. No matter how many decades of friendship might lie behind them.

“Yeah,” he sighed, though you could tell from the look in his eyes that it was harder for him than he was letting on. “It’s awkward, but if we keep it strictly to business, it’s manageable. It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and you wished so badly that you could be there to smooth the lines from his distraught face. “It’s just… sometimes he makes it hard to remember what he did.”

You nodded, feeling guilty that you were the reason the two were no longer friends. That Steve had betrayed Bucky because of his desire for you.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, sweets,” Bucky chastised you knowingly. It was like he could read your mind. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a look. “I know how that pretty head works, doll, and I know you’re blaming yourself. Stop it. He made his own bed, now he gets to lie in it.”

“I know,” you lamented. “I just hate that you have to pay the emotional cost of his bad decisions, that’s all.”

Bucky frowned at you. “Just like I hate how you had to pay the costs for mine, doll,” he said softly. “Our actions have consequences. We have to live with them, so we don’t make the same fuck ups again.”

You subconsciously let your hand drift to your abdomen, your fingers delicately tracing over the scar that was the only external reminder that you’d been shot. Had technically been killed. Had lost a lot more than your life. You were grateful Bucky could only see you from the chest up.

“Well, this conversation took a turn,” you said, trying to get off of subjects you’d rather not dwell on. “Can we go back to talking about how fucking horny I am for you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and god, how it warmed your heart that you could still get that reaction out of him after everything you’d both gone through. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he adjusted himself in whatever seat he was in. “If it helps, I’m horny as hell for you, too, sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth as he nodded his head. “Yeah, hearing that does help. Show me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened through the screen. “Show you?” he breathed, clearly not having anticipated where you were about to take the conversation. “What do you mean, ‘show you’, doll?”

“I mean,” you said, leaning back against the headboard to make yourself more comfortable, “show me that pretty cock of yours, Sergeant. Take it out. Stroke it for me. I wanna see what I’ve been missing.”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes went back and forth between the phone screen and the door that separated him from the rest of the team. You could tell from the way he was gnawing at his bottom lip that he was seriously debating it, but that he had some real reservations. “Doll,” he whispered, sounding scandalized, but excited, “they’re right outside. They’ll hear me.”

You smirked at the way he’d suddenly become shy. “I wanna hear you, Sarge,” you pleaded in a breathy whisper, and from the way he closed his eyes and moaned at your words, you knew he was so close to giving you what you wanted. “Come on, baby,” you cooed. “Can’t you show Pocket that pretty pink cock she’s been wanting so badly? Can’t I watch you choke it with your big hands while I imagine my mouth wrapped around it? Pozhaluysta, Soldat?”

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you knew you’d won when he hopped up from where he’d been sitting. Though you couldn’t see it from the way he was letting the phone dangle, you could hear him lock the door. “You know I can’t resist it when you speak Russian, doll,” he said as he sat back down, propping the phone and its camera up against something so that you could see his entire body stretched out before you.

“YA rasschityval na eto, detka,” you said with a grin. I was counting on it, baby. You could see now that he was in a bedroom of what looked like a standard SHIELD safehouse. It was small– only one twin-sized bed, so you weren’t worried about anyone else barging in to need the space.

“So, how do we do this?” he asked, and you could hear the nervousness mixed with excitement in his voice. It struck you that, throughout your relationship, and all the time you’d spent apart while one or the other was away on missions, the two of you had actually never done this before. Phone sex, yeah, but never on video, together. It was going to be new territory, and it thrilled you.

“We?” you asked playfully, pretending you had no idea what he was talking about.

Bucky looked at you sternly though the screen of your phone and you involuntarily shivered under his gaze. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to see that sweet, dripping cunt of yours tonight, doll. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. Got just a taste of it the other day, and it wasn’t nearly enough.”

Fuck, you could feel yourself dampen and your nipples harden just from his words alone, not to mention the memory of the brief moment on your terrace, before the movers had arrived, when he’d had his deliciously thick fingers pressed inside of you.

“Baby,” you moaned, not even realizing you were trailing your fingertips over the pebbled flesh of your breasts under your shirt, imagining his rough, calloused hands on you.

“Take off your clothes, Pocket,” Bucky growled. He didn’t ask; it wasn’t a request. It was a command, and you were ready to obey.

“Sir, yes sir, Sergeant,” you said, and you were sure you looked anything but graceful as you sped to pull your top over your head and shimmy out of the pair of cheeky panties you wore. The cool breeze of the air conditioning danced along your flushed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his eyes following the path your fingers traced along the contours of your body. You watched hungrily as he absentmindedly palmed himself through the Tac pants he still frustratingly donned. “God, you look even better‘n I remember, sweets,” he grunted. “Better than I’ve been imaginin’ all week. How the fuck’s that even possible?”

“Buck,” you warned, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his obviously false praise as you turned to hide your face from his gaze. “Stop. I know you don’t mean that.”

Frowning, Bucky leaned forward, picking up the phone so he could bring his face close to the camera, scrutinizing you. “Pocket,” he said, but you refused to look at him. “Pocket!” he tried again, his voice a little firmer, but still gentle. “Why the fuck would I not mean that, sweetheart? You’re gorgeous.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. It was kind of him to lie to spare your feelings, really, but you didn’t think you could take it. Not from him. Not after everything. Without thought, your hand moved to cover your bullet wound from his gaze. “Come on, Buck,” you said, your tone implying that you weren’t buying his bullshit, no matter how sweetly he was selling it, “we both know you weren’t imagining me with all these new scars.”

“Baby.” Bucky made a noise somewhere between a choked laugh and an incredulous groan. “You can’t seriously think I, of all fucking people, give a shit about a couple of tiny scars?” He put the phone down, and your view of him was obstructed for a moment while you heard the rustle of cloth. When he lifted it up again, you saw he had taken off his vest and Tac shirt. He pointed to the ruined skin of his left shoulder.

“Look at these and tell me you think I’m gonna be turned off by a coupla’ scars, Pocket,” he said, and you could detect the hard edge to his voice.

“It’s different, Buck,” you told him, your voice cracking. “You already had those scars when we met; they were a part of the man I fell in love with. You…” you hastily wiped at the tear that was suddenly threatening to fall from your eye. “Mine… mine weren’t. You didn’t get a choice in them.”

You watched as the look on Bucky’s face morphed into one of pure confusion. Of course he didn’t fully understand– you weren’t just talking about scars, after all. He… just didn’t realize that yet.

“You didn’t have a choice in them, either, sweetheart,” he said softly, eying the way your hand protectively rested over your abdomen. “And if you’re talking about the scar from when you got shot… well, fuck, if that scar’s not my favorite thing.”

You looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. “How could this… disgusting reminder…” you choked out, “of everything that happened last year… how could that be your favorite thing, Bucky?”

“That scar means you’re alive, doll,” he told her. “That you’re still breathing, still with me, in spite of all of it. So forgive me if I think that makes it the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled, his words momentarily taking away the sting of the inadequacy you’d felt ever since the doctors had told you about the extent of your condition. It wasn’t something you were purposefully keeping from Bucky… You had just been too terrified to say it out loud. You were going to tell him. Just not yet.

"Look at me Doll,” he said, getting your attention back onto his face, “I don't like that I have to tell you this at all, but I'm gonna do it, as many times as you need, as many times as it takes for you to believe me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You felt your face soften, the tension of insecurity drop from your shoulders as he looked at you through the phone screen, eyes blue pools of adoration. You wanted so badly to just get lost in him, to let him consume you until you were capable of thinking of nothing but him.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s something more than just the scar, isn’t it, sweets? You’ve never been ashamed of showing me your body before.” You weren’t vain as a rule, and Bucky knew this about you. You had other scars, worse ones. Uglier ones, but none had ever bothered you the way this one had. None had ever carried the same degree of psychological and emotional baggage.

You just nodded, afraid that if you spoke, you’d reveal what you’d been keeping from him, blurt it out before you could stop yourself, and it was not the kind of thing you wanted to do over video with thousands of miles of distance between you.

“You don’t have to tell me, doll,” he said, the understanding in his voice so pure that it made you ache. “I know so many of my actions have hurt you; I get that there’s still some trust–”

“Baby, no,” you interrupted. “I trust you, I do. I want to tell you. I’m just… not ready yet.”

“Tell me what I can do for you right now, then, sweetheart,” he offered. He’d brought the phone close to his face, his gaze on you intense and burning through the screen. “What do you need?”

You exhaled, the sight of him so focused and sincere making your knees feel weak. “Just you, Buck,” you whispered, the words coming out in a breathy sigh. “I just want you.”

“I’m right here, doll.” His voice turned low, darker. A soft purr that vibrated your insides. “And I’ll be home with you real soon, but you gotta tell me what I can do for you right. now.”

You sucked in a shuddering gasp of air, indulging in the way his words swept over your body like a languid kiss. Without even thinking, you felt your hand drift down your abdomen, your fingertips dancing along the top of your thigh.

“Buck,” you found yourself whining as you squirmed your ass across the mattress, searching for any inch of friction you could find.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunted, readjusting the camera so it was once again propped up and you could see the length of him pressing against the material of his tac-pants. “Tell Sergeant Barnes what you want so he can give it to you.”

A beat of silence passed between you before you both started laughing, your hand coming to cover your face as you suppressed a snort. “Oh my god, Barnes!” you wheezed.

“Yeah, that was awful,” he laughed, palming his face in embarrassment. “Did I kill it?”

You wiped away a stray tear that had leaked from your eye in your laughter. “You’re lucky I find your bad jokes to be such a fucking turn on,” you told him with a grin.

Bucky frowned. “Wasn’t supposed to be a joke, doll,” he grumbled, a pout forming on his beautiful pink lips. “‘S supposed to be sexy.”

“Oh, I found it very sexy,” you assured him. “You make me laugh, Barnes. That’s the hottest fucking thing I can imagine. Now take off your pants.”

The look in Bucky’s eyes turned from playfully annoyed to seductively heated in the space of a nanosecond. He reached for the zipper of his tac-pants and you licked your lips at the sound of it coming undone. “Get the camera all set up, doll,” he said as he shimmied the pants down his legs. “I want to see every inch of you.”

With a grin, you propped your camera up between your legs, giving Bucky a front row seat to your dripping core. “This work for you, Sarge?” you asked.

“Fuck, sweets,” he began, palming at himself through his boxer-briefs. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Show me,” you commanded him, bringing your fingers down to lightly trace the outer edges of your lower lips. “Show me how well this view works for you, baby.”

Bucky scrambled to pull his boxer briefs down to his thick thighs, and you watched with bated breath as his cock sprung free, its beautiful, pink tip already glistening with precum. Your entire body erupted in tingles at the sight of him. He was so fucking gorgeous, and he was yours.

“Jesus,” you hissed, bringing a hand to your breast and gently squeezing the flesh. You could feel your mouth thicken with saliva at just the idea of having him down your throat.

“Just Bucky’s fine, baby,” he teased as he grabbed a hold of himself, and you rolled your eyes. “No need to bring God into it.” Slowly, he began stroking his length. You watched in awe as he seemed to grow harder with every downward pull, the veins in his thighs bulging as he thrust his hips up against his hand. If anyone was going to be compared to God during sex, it would and should be Bucky Barnes.

“Touch that pretty clit for me, doll,” he grunted. “Pretend it’s my fingers on you, getting you all warmed up to take my cock.”

“Fuck, Buck,” you whimpered, your fingers moving frantically over your bundle of nerves. You were already soaked; just the sight of him had sent another wave of arousal gushing through you. “Want your dick in my pussy so bad, baby. So fucking bad, it hurts.”

“Soon, sweetheart,” he grunted, watching your fingers strum your clit with wild eyes. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll fill you up so good, you won’t be able to walk normal for weeks.”

You arched your back and moaned, the memory of the way he stretched you as he entered you, opening you wider than any other man you’d ever had, flooded your mind. “Nothing fills me like you do, baby,” you panted. “Nothing hits me so deep.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, and you could hear the delicious slick, slick sound of his hand moving through the precum that soaked his shaft. “Not even those fancy toys you bought?”

Bucky chuckled when he noticed your eyes pop open and stare at him in surprise. “Oh, I know all about those, doll.” Slick, slick, slick. “Found ‘em when I was helping you pack for the move. All of them.”

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and if you didn’t already have your hand on your pussy right in front of him, you might have been embarrassed. “All those toys, and none of them gets me off as good as you do, Buck,” you breathed. “None of them reach that spot the way you do.” It was true– it was the one thing you had desperately searched for during your time of Bad Decisions– someone to hit that place deep inside of you that set your every nerve ending on fire, that made you shiver and convulse with pleasure with each thrust. No one had ever brought on that full body climax that left you shaking and weak like Bucky had.

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “No one touches your A-spot but me.”

“No,” you gasped. You loved how he knew your body so well, knew what he did to you, how you longed for his touch. “No one touches me like you, baby.”

“Put your fingers in, sweets,” he commanded. “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on that pretty little hand while I pretend it’s my cock.”

You did as he asked, bringing two fingers to your weeping entrance and plunging them inside you. They would never feel as thick or go as deep as any part of Bucky, but for now, they were all you had, so you made the most of them, driving them in and out of your cunt with abandon.

“Fuck…” you grunted as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten, sweat glistening off your brow. “Baby!”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky said between grunts of his own. “Tell me how good you feel.”

“So good, Buck,” you moaned. “So fucking good. Want you so bad, Bucky! So fucking bad!”

“I’m right there with you, doll,” he panted. “I’m so close. Gonna blow all over and imagine it’s inside that pretty pussy of yours. Gonna come home and bury myself in your cunt, sweets! Not gonna come out for days!”

“Oh shit, Bucky,” you cried, your release a hare's breath away. “Wanna cum with you, baby.” You curled your fingers inside of you, stroking your G-spot again, and again, trying to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers inside of you.

“Just a little longer, sweetheart.” Bucky was yanking at his member now, his pace quick and frantic.

You felt yourself rising, clawing to the very edge of the precipice, but before you could hurl yourself over the edge, you accidentally hit your phone with your foot, sending it falling to the floor.

You scrambled for the phone. It had landed face-down in the dark, making it harder for you to find, but you followed the sounds of Bucky’s grunts and moans until you made contact. Turning the phone back over, you watched as Bucky, eyes screwed closed, reached his peak, ropes of cum erupting from the tip of his cock and landing across his stomach and hand.

And, as surely as if someone had doused you with a bucket of water, the spell was broken. You were painfully reminded that he wasn’t there with you. He was half a world away, still out of your reach.

You sniffled, and Bucky opened his eyes at the sound. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice laced with concern, “what’s wrong? Did you cum?”

You hitched a breath, holding back a sob, and shook your head. “You’re not here, Buck,” you cried. “It’s not… I thought… I just want to be with you. I miss you so fucking much!” You knew you sounded petulant, like a child, but you were at your limit, truly. You wanted nothing more than to be back to normal with him. A better normal, even, now without the shadow of Carthage looming over you both.

“Oh, doll.” Bucky picked up his phone and brought it close to his face, his now flaccid cock out of frame. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Do you wanna try again? We can focus just on you. Make sure you get off nice and good.”

You shook your head, feeling the tears of frustration and longing slide down your cheeks. “No,” you

whimpered. “I think… I think I just wanna go to sleep.”

Bucky frowned at you, the look in his eyes sorrowful. “I fucking hate that I’m too far away to help you, Pocket,” he said. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, knowing you’re hurting.”

“It’s just been so long, Buck,” you whispered to him as you buried yourself under the blankets of your bed. “I feel like every time we even try, something keeps getting in our way. What if it’s the universe, trying to tell us we shouldn’t be getting back together?”

Bucky sighed, thick and heavy. “I know you don’t believe that, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s just been some bad timing; we got out of our groove, is all. I promise, things will go back to the way they were. The way they’re supposed to be.”

Not long ago, you told him that his promises didn’t mean shit to you, but now… now, you wanted to believe him more than anything.

“It’s just a little longer,” he clarified. You nodded, swallowing down any remaining tears that threatened to fall. You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him, but the part of you that had been irrevocably broken when he’d hurt you couldn’t help but whisper that, maybe, in some way, he’d always leave you unsatisfied.

<- Part 1 / Part 3 ->

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brownskinlemon · 2 months ago

Text

Midori Sour Pt.3

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 1,531

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

part 1 + part 2

warnings: fluff!, none others that I know of!

author's note: Apologies for the impromptu hiatus, but I wanted to finish this so I can get back into making more!

A jumble of conversation down the hall and the sun peaking through the blinds were the first things to coax you out of your sleep in the morning. You shuffled slightly, settling back into the mattress as you took notice of the warm heavy arm wrapped around your waist.

The scent of shampoo flooded your nose, a mop of curls flush against your chest. Dominic’s sleeping form begins to stir at your adjustments.

“Where are you going?” Dominic’s voice grumbles out, voice thick with sleep.

“Nowhere. I’m here.” You sigh content, hands making their way up to rake through his curls. In the silence that follows, the events of yesterday flood like a montage across your brain. Your thighs clench at the remembrance of the warmth flooding you as his hands and mouth and body coaxed all you had out of you late into the night. If you focused acutely, you could pinpoint the slight soreness settling its way between your thighs.

Toned arms wrapped impossible closer around you as Dominic shuffled closer into your neck. A warm breath fanned your neck as he attempted to prolong his sleep.

“Hey.” You rasped out, “I’m up now you have to wake up with me.”

A grumpy groan rumbled in his chest, his face burying impossibly deeper into your neck. A childish huff left his chest before he tilted his head back, barely opening one of his eyes to look at you. You watched in amusement as he obnoxiously stretched, leaning his head on his elbow to stare back at you through his nearly-closed lids.

With the alcohol and weed no longer coursing through you, you got a good look of him sober, and truthfully he was just as, if not more enthralling up close. It struck you once again that the man before you had been completely buried to a hilt inside of you last night, the very first night you had known each other. As the sun swirled his brown eyes into honey, you began to still, wanting to freeze the moment. You didn’t want to think about what was next after you both left this bed, and more importantly, if this meant more to you than it did him.

He’s a rockstar, with women being at an endless supply, and you couldn’t help the slight sting in your chest when considering the vulnerability of last night, even before you had been stripped of your clothes, it could all have been for nothing.

“What are you thinking about?” He rasps softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Nothing.” You say, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Nothing? Wanna try answering that truthfully?” He says, bringing a finger to trace lines around your stomach and up your torso mindlessly.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We saw each other butt ass naked last night, there’s nothing more embarrassing than that. I promise you’ll live. Now tell me. Please?”

You huffed, frustrated that he was right.

“Um, I was just thinking about last night. What was it to you? I know it’s a stupid question and I’m not expecting you to propose or anything, I just don’t know how to feel.”

“It’s not stupid.” He reassures, taking his hand to cup your jaw. “Like I said last night, I really, really like you. I don’t hook up with random women anymore you know? It’s just not me. I don’t want you to think it was just like a hookup. It turned out that way, and trust me it was amazing, but I wanna get to know you in other ways too. You feel me?”

“You read my mind.” You mutter, still avoiding his gaze as you let his words settle over you.

“How do you feel?” He asks, coaxing your eyes to look back at him again.

“I really want to get to know you too. Being in this bed with you doesn’t feel real, in the best way. I just didn’t wanna get fucked over if this is all you wanted from me.” Your bottom lip came between your teeth as you chewed in thought.

“ I don’t expect you to trust me yet, but I hope you’ll come to eventually. Hm?” You nod in response. “Now that you’ve confessed your undying love to me..wanna get brunch?”

You scoff jokingly. “ Dominic I did not-”

“You want chicken and waffles or not?” His smirk begins to match yours, placing a finger over your mouth. You both break out in laughter, the calm serene morning washes over you a last time before you search for your phone to check the time. It reads “11AM”, under it however is a mass notification of texts and Instagram notifications. Your eyes widen and you shoot up in the bed at the screen.

Dominic jumps up with you, just as thrown off at the sudden panic lacing your features. “What?”

“Look.” You say breathlessly, turning the phone to show him your now open Instagram with 10s of thousands of mentions.

“Forgot about that.” He narrows his eyes sheepishly.

“Tell me about it.” You saw, swiping the notifications to find different tags of you on fan pages, dms of people you knew and didn’t know wanting the deets, and a flood of request DMs that you were almost sure were laced with a threat or two. You groan, slapping your hand over your face , “God I forgot you were famous.”

You couldn’t help breathlessly, feeling your heart rate pick up and stress tense you up.

“Don’t look at that right now okay? Just focus on this, on us, what’s in the here and now.” He grabbed your phone gently, coaxing it face down in your hand. He grabbed both hands, ducking down to catch your downcast eyes in a genuine gaze. “ Be there with me for a bit longer.” You nod silently in response.

Before you can say anything further, he’s sliding off the bed to slip on pajamas and turn on the shower to warm up the water, and returning to help you to your feet. `

“Mmm” You groaned, a pang of soreness between your legs from the movement. You were almost sure you saw a pleased and cocky smirk grace his features slightly before fleeting. Once the water was warm, he coaxed you in gently, joining you after ridding himself of his pants. Your eyes fluttered shut as he rinsed your sore limbs with the warm water, head falling back onto his shoulder with a sigh. His head came to rest on your shoulders, sighing contently as he scrubbed your limbs. After cleaning you both off, he brung you to sit on the edge of the tub, drying you off.

You were now clad in his shirt and shorts, and he wore a similar outfit. You smiled lightly at the curls of his head drenched in water, extra curly and delicate. It emphasized the gentle youthfulness of his features. He grabbed your hand, pulling you along the hallway similarly like the night before, to join everyone else in the living room.

The mumbled conversation gets louder as you both get closer to the living room. Everyone was alive at the bare minimum, the alcohol from yesterday clearly taking its toll. “How’d you sleep lovebirds?” Omar asks bashfully. Dominic takes a seat next to him while you perch on the couch arm next to them.

You both made eye contact before you answered “Fine.” Dominic nodded to your answer.

“It sounded more than fine. ‘Dom, oh, please Oh Dom!’”- He was cut off by your hand rushing to cover his mouth.

“Dude you heard that, how?” Dominic groans, leaning his head back against the couch.

“Y’all were loud. Quiet for two crossfaded horny dogs. But not quiet in general.” He replied once you removed your hand from his mouth.

You hid your face in both hands, running warm with pure unadulterated embarrassment.

“Dom that was ballsy posting that picture, you got motherfuckers blowing me up for info about it.”

“Yeah it’s even worse on Y/N’s page bro, they’re blowing her shit up.”

“It’s insane how many tags and requests I’ve gotten, like it’s kinda scary.” You sigh deeply.

“I feel bad, but honestly I kinda love having shit to myself that people think they know so much about. I plan to keep little Missy around, so they’re gonna have to cope.” Dom shrugs.

You couldn’t help the bashful smile gracing your features at the casualness of the heavy comment. You caught each other's eyes across the couch, smiling softly to yourselves as if in secret conversation.

“I’d love to stay around with you guys, but I was promised chicken, waffles, and mimosas by a little someone.” You raised your eyebrow knowingly at Dominic.

“I did not promise mimosas.” He retorts.

“It was implied!” You stand, turning to head back to your room to pack. “Hurry up, I'm starving here!” You toy over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the man capsizing the enthralled smile on his face.

You’d have to thank Omar later for his wingman ship, but you’d like to think it was the Midori Sours that did Dominic in, and led you to a night and a boy you’ll never forget.

#dominic fike #dominic fike x reader #dom fike #omar apollo

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give-to-oblivion · 2 months ago

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My Hero Academia Recs: Dadmight & Dadzawa Edition

I love all the adopted dads in this fandom, but I get sad when one of them gets bashed at the expense of the others. This recs list is for fics that have both All Might and Aizawa (and sometimes Present Mic) as good surrogate father figures. The focus isn't always split evenly between them, but I only included fics I thought had good representation of both. Most of these also have good mom Inko because that's important to me, and I've indicated where it's otherwise.

Some of these fics are pretty well known; this is less an "unearth new discoveries" list and more of a "filter for this specific trope variation" list.

Please feel free to reblog with your own additions! There's definitely some longfic I haven't had a chance to sit down with yet.

Announcer AU (Series) by RogueVector

Midoriya Izuku makes his debut on the national stage not as a competitor at the Sports Festival, but rather as a lost spectator turned announcer alongside his heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic.

This is more like EVERYBODY adopting Izuku, but it's still a lot fun. The first two main fics are completed; the third is still a WIP and hasn't been updated for some time.

Apex Predator (WIP, on hiatus) by silver jackdaw (cizzi)

Every single school had one: someone at the top of the food chain. An acme. Someone who could do things under a teacher's nose, escape consequences, and terrify other people. Someone who looked down on everyone else like they were prey. An apex predator. And Izuku couldn't count on teachers and adults to protect anyone. Even a hero school wasn't safe from the phenomena. When Izuku gets to Yuuei, he's determined to find out who it is and ensure they can't hurt him or his new friends.

...and accidentally, in the process, becomes the apex predator (though he is mostly unaware of this, and uses it for good. But still, people are terrified of him.)

Although this is on hiatus, it's over 170k and doesn't leave off on a cliffhanger. I've reread this at least 10 times.

Burn Your Wings by oWhiteKiwibird

Izuku inherited his parents’ quirks, but he swore he’d never use his fire.

He knows first hand how—bright, burning, scorching, painful, terrifying, destructive—it is, after all, and Izuku promised (promised his crying mother, promised his burning self, promised the laughing memory of his father) that he’d become a hero who stops that kind of despair.

Even if he has to burn his own wings to do so.

By Chance, By Choice by Marigold_Flowers

Aizawa Shouta, Yagi Toshinori, Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi wake up one morning with a Soul-mark, meaning that there's a chance they'll meet their Soulmate that day. Things don't go quite like they expect, but they go well all the same. They find new family, just perhaps not quite how they thought they would.

Parental soulmates, with a twist. I've never seen this take on this trope and had to include it.

A Guide to Death Worlders (Series) by katydid & Zyla_SweetBean

Humans are known across the galaxy for being terrifying, relentless, and savage monsters. Naturally the alien warlord All for One must have one as a pet. The unfortunate alien abduction victim Izuku Midoriya is determined to make his captor regret it.

Series based on the "humans are space orcs" premise. A little cracky, but very fun, and the series is complete at over 270k so it'll last you a while.

Hide and Seek (Series, complete) by battybatzgirl

Izuku Midoriya is good at hiding his secrets. Shouta Aizawa is better at uncovering them.

Left Over by Dinosawrhat

Aizawa Shouta’s instincts were nearly 100% accurate, as was his eye for small details. They were skills honed through years working the Underground, and only broadened when it came to dealing with 20 incredibly powerful teens year after year. So, when he noticed that Midoriya hadn’t brought a lunch for the fourth time this week, he knew something was off.

This does have neglectful Inko. And just. so much whump.

The New Normal by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Midoriya Izuku comes from a long line of secret Force users. Reconciling that with living as a Quirkless person in and Quirked world is interesting at best --and that was before his Dad tried to make him commit a murder.

Present Mic and Eraserhead, meanwhile, have been trying to adopt for a while with no luck until Mic walks past the wrong (possibly the right) custody hearing and can't help but step in.

A Boku no Hero Academia and Star Wars Fusion.

Razzmatazz by xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything.

He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this.

For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had.

Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves.

This is mostly Dadmight, but does have some good Dadzawa as well.

Send Endeavor to the Shadow Realm (Series) by PitViperOfDoom

Todoroki Enji is the worst and Midoriya finds ways to let people know it.

The last story in the series is the real meat of it (60k+) but you should read the rest for context. And because they're good.

Things That Haunt Our Hallways by ghostwriterofthemachine

“It was a kid,” Yagi gasped out. He had his hand balled up into a fist and the fist pressed to his lips, as if to remind himself that he could not start screaming. “Or. Young person, maybe 20. Homeless, I think. Activated their Quirk on reflex and then ran. The kids—” Here, he pressed his fist harder to his mouth, sucked in a wheezing breath, as if the air itself was pushing down something with physical weight. “The kids—”

“Scattered immediately,” Aizawa finished for him, and Yagi managed a nod.

Yagi’s eyes were so dilated that the blue was almost invisible. He shook violently. He looked like a scarecrow in a windstorm.

Someone activated a Fear-Inducer Quirk so powerful that it reduced All Might to this— of course Aizawa’s class had bolted.

when at first you don't succeed by LunaLucrea

Toshinori finds himself in a race against time to save his successor. Over and over and over again.

A World Anew (Series) by Krasimer

Time travel/AU fic where a hero traveling back to save Shimura Tenko starts a ripple effect that creates a better world. The first two fics are completed and the third is close to wrapping up.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #aizawa shouta #yagi toshinori #dadmight #dadzawa #fic rec #fanfic recs

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 6 months ago

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Love and Liabilities: Chapter Four (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: As you prepare for the impending trial and attempt to find ways to relieve your stress, the biggest stressor in your life has a funny way of showing up when you least expect it.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Lawyer!Agatha is back after a little hiatus! This is a bit of a shorter chapter to get me back into writing after a few months. I’m hoping to be updating a bit more regularly but I’m (sadly) growing even more busy & stressed, so I promise to do the best I can! As always I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. My asks/dm’s are always open!

Tag List: @chiar4anna @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @aggieslittleslut @ris-ris-mind @tr333sus @sabstance-blog

Present Day

The whooshing of the wind in your ears combined with the cool air filling your lungs fueled you to increase your pacing as you ran through the deserted park. It had been nearly a week since you reunited with Agatha, and your brain had been hellbent on torturing you ever since. Nothing could take your mind off the infuriating attorney, not even work. You had spent the past few days pouring over every word in the various documents Agatha presented during the pretrial conference, hoping to find something, anything really, to solidify your case.

It was times like this when you missed working in corporate law. Although you had only been a junior attorney at Stark & Strange, you had unlimited access to paralegals and attorneys at your disposal. Unfortunately, working for the government meant not only taking a significant pay cut, but also limiting your outsourcing. You didn’t regret your decision to leave the firm, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the perks.

Since burying yourself in piles of work proved useless, your only real escape from Agatha came from running. The familiar burning sensation began to fill your lungs as your body begged for a break, but you forced yourself to continue. Your legs felt heavier than when you first started, and as you rounded the corner of the trail you had to work twice as hard to not slow down. Even though you were growing tired, the rush of endorphins was a welcome change from the haunting memory of searing blue eyes burning holes into your own.

Agatha would be far too pleased to learn how much of your time and energy was being wasted trying to forget her. However, being the soul sucking succubus she was, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was already aware of the pain she was causing. A swell of anger suddenly overtook you, a feeling you had long grown familiar with when thinking of her, and you used it to finish the final stretch of your run. The thudding of your feet on the pavement along with the loud thumping of your heartbeat acting as a painful reminder of the woman you so desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

Swirls of scarlet, orange, and yellow painted the Manhattan skyline as the sun gradually rose over the city, and the quiet beeping of your phone from your back pocket signaled the end of your run. Nearing the end of the trail, you slowed your pace down to a steady walk, allowing yourself to do some breathing exercises in the process whilst checking your email. It was early enough in the morning that there wasn’t much for you to go through, but you knew it was bound to be yet another busy day.

You had timed your run to give yourself just enough time to head back to your apartment to get ready for the day and get to the office before the rest of your colleagues. The stress of the looming trial was becoming overwhelming, and you had to be prepared for whatever chaos Agatha would inevitably throw at you. Unfortunately that meant you were working nearly double the amount of hours than normal.

Luckily you were able to take a quick shower, find clean clothes in the back of your closet, and managed to get to work before anyone else had arrived. You would hopefully have an hour or two to yourself before you were eventually interrupted, and you intended to use every last possible second you could. As you strolled the corridor, you were tempted to stop to make yourself a coffee, but decided to get settled before adding caffeine to this situation.

Absentmindedly dropping your bag to the floor after you entered your office, you refocused your attention on reading a memo that one of your colleagues had left for you. Making mental notes of what needed to be addressed, you turned to open the blinds when you stopped dead in your tracks at what was in front of you.

Agatha Harkness sat in an armchair in the corner of your office, an amused expression painting her face. You nearly fell over at the sight of her, how did she get in here? The door was locked when you had arrived, wasn’t it?

Agatha, unaware of your current inner ramblings, took a sip of her coffee before repositioning herself, recrossing her legs as she gave you a disappointed look. “Your lack of situational awareness is truly astonishing. I could have been a murderer.”

Adrenaline continued to course through your body as your heart thumped loudly in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you ignored her sarcastic remarks as you leaned against your desk, attempting to calm down.

“What-what the hell are you doing in here?” You spluttered out, unsuccessfully trying to regain your composure.

The attorney frowned, as if that was an absurd question. “This is your office, is it not? I wasn’t sure at first, but the withering plants were a bit of a giveaway.”

Typical Agatha. They weren’t dying, were they? You made a mental note to ask your paralegal to water them a bit more.

Ignoring the jab, you took another deep breath, your body still on edge. “Do I even want to know how you got in here?”

Taking a moment to think over your words, she shook her head. “No. Now drink your coffee before the ice melts.”

It was then that you noticed the untouched cup of iced coffee on the edge of your desk. Narrowing your eyes at it, you gave her a suspicious glance. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, as if that was the most ridiculous thing to ask her and she didn’t just break into your office. “Honestly, dear. You’re far too paranoid this early in the morning. Drink. We both know how irritable you are without caffeine.”

When you refrained from grabbing the cup, Agatha huffed, her stormy blue eyes swirling in annoyance as she rose from her seat. Taking a step towards you until your legs were nearly touching, she snatched the cup, the silence in the room disrupted by the clanking sound of the ice swirling in the cup. Hovering over you, she used her free hand to grab yours, the soft feel of her touch briefly taking you back to a time where it would have been more welcomed.

Your breath hitched as the rich, musky scent of her expensive perfume washed over you, and you fought the temptation to look into her eyes. How many times had you found yourself in this exact same position with her, you mused lightly as your brain attempted to regain its ability to function. Agatha’s fingers intertwined with yours, as she leaned in even closer, her lips grazing your jawline and you closed your eyes, fighting against the urge to lean into her touch.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head. “No. This can’t happen again.”

Agatha pulled back, her eyebrows slightly raised. “What can’t happen again?”

Giving her a pointed look, you tried to ignore the feel of her fingers still interwoven with your own. “I don’t think we need to relive that mistake, do we?”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Agatha replied, swishing the cup of iced coffee as she lifted it up. “I seem to recall you rather enjoying yourself during that mistake, or was that someone else who pulled me into a closet and jumped me?”

“I did not jump you! You’re the one who came onto me,” you hissed as your irritation grew exponentially.

“Easy, tiger,” Agatha teased, raising the cup until the straw was nearly touching your lips. “I see the caffeine withdrawal is already kicking in.”

“Agatha…” you trailed off, ignoring your brain protesting that this would hurt even more than your last encounter.

Dropping your hand, Agatha gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards until you were forced to meet her eyes.

“Sip,” Agatha murmured, raising the cup once more to your lips.

Her words were soft, but you both knew it wasn’t a request as much as a command. A part of you knew this was a mistake, that you couldn’t give into her yet again after being strong for so long. But then you looked into her eyes and found yourself getting lost in the fiery intensity she always seemed to carry. Logic and reason held no weight against the pleasure that was being at the mercy of Agatha Harkness.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you lightly sucked, savoring the creamy, cold taste of the iced coffee on your tongue. Agatha’s eyes darkened at the sight; using one hand to brush your hair behind your shoulders while the other remained glued to your jaw, fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“Good girl,” Agatha quietly praised, running her fingers through your hair, tugging lightly at the loose strands.

As you released the straw from your mouth, Agatha set the cup down, tightening her grip on your hair before capturing your lips in a kiss. Her lips were warm and gentle against your own, but it wasn’t long before she began nipping on your lower lip, biting down harder when you let out a whine. Moving forward, she pressed herself fully against you, while you instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist. Her tongue expertly sought out your own, and it felt like she was trying to get every drop of coffee from your mouth.

Panting, you were the first to break the kiss, tilting your head as Agatha proceeded to pepper persistent kisses down your jawline, each leaving you more breathless than the last.

“Agatha…” you whimpered, the last bit of self control slipping away even as you tried to hold onto it. “We can’t do this again.”

The attorney chuckled softly against your skin, tickling you ever so slightly in the process. She took a moment to look up at you then, with her ever blue eyes hazy with want and perfectly swollen red lips, and you remembered a moment in time where this had been easier. It was almost too easy to forget the pain of the past when she looked at you in that special way; as if she saved those intimate, sweet glances just for you. You used to believe you were able to bring out a different side of her than the rest of the world saw; that you understood who she was at her core.

Having her here now made the whole situation even worse than you previously remembered. It complicated things, and if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was unnecessary complications. You found it difficult to remember the seemingly obvious reasons why you left her all those years ago when she was standing within your reach; the light that once dimmed in her eyes was once again ablaze. Gone were the demons of the past, in its place was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Unfortunately, you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard chatter from the hallway; your colleagues had arrived for the day. Agatha’s head tilted at the sound, and the moment was broken as she took a step back.

Clearing her throat, she folded her arms across her chest. “I was hoping you had given more thought to dropping the case, that’s why I dropped by.”

Annoyance took over any feelings of longing that had been threatening to emerge, and you frowned. “You do realize that this could be perceived as intimidation, right? That on top of trespassing could mean you potentially lose any upper hand in this trial that you believe you possess.”

Agatha fully cackled, which only served to enrage you further. She picked up a few files that she must have previously set on the desk. “You always were so full of pride and ambition, dear. I’m not surprised to see it still has a hand in clouding your judgment. It’s a pity. I always thought you had a lot of potential.”

Flabbergasted, you shook your head. You should have known better. Only Agatha would be capable of attempting to manipulate you over your shared past to better serve her motive. Shoving past her, you finally opened the blinds to your office, the once sunny morning replaced with dark gray skies as rain furiously poured down. As you turned around to tell Agatha to get out, you were unsurprised to find she was already gone. Typical.

Settling down at your desk, you opened your laptop and started going through your checklist for the day when you noticed something on the edge of your desk; a file folder. You quickly realized Agatha must have left it behind by accident, which was strange; it wasn’t like her to do something like that. It was unclear what drove you to opening the file, but looking back you’d blame it on your own morbid curiosity. Inside there were over a dozen pages of what appeared to be hospital records for two people, one being Wanda Maximoff.

As you settled in to read, your eyes drifted to the neglected iced coffee. A part of you wanted to throw it away, but the caffeine driven side of your brain led you to grab it. After all, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Flipping the page over as you sipped, you paused as you actually tasted the coffee for the first time without distraction.

This is your exact coffee order. Iced coffee, extra ice, one pump of vanilla and a splash of oatmilk. After all of these years she still remembered, remembered it perfectly.

You weren’t sure why you hated that as much as you did, but it burns in your mind as you keep reading and drinking, trying to wash her taste out of your mouth.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #marvel au #wandavision au #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha all along

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shelbystales · 4 months ago

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Best Aid - Part Nine

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing

A/N: Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot. Hi guyss!!!! long time no see hahaha, sorry for the hiatus, needed some time. Can't promise i'll be back 100% posting every week but i'll try for sure! Gotta say i missed writing :)

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A week has passed since your last conversation with Thomas. In that time, you had only seen each other once when he came to pick up John Doe, now also known as Johnny Dogs. This time apart helped you sort out your feelings about everything you had been through in the past few weeks.

Surprisingly, the week went by like any other. You kept up with your shifts, visited your mom and brother over the weekend, and caught up on your TV series episodes. It felt like everything had returned to how it was before the man with the incredibly blue eyes walked into your emergency room, and you saved him.

Back to your normal and safe routine.

As soon as your shift ended, you joined Jeremy and his fiancé, Alan, for a pizza night at their place. You spent the evening eating, drinking wine, and gossiping about everything, from the most unrealistic romances at the hospital to Alan’s latest work presentation.

The evening turned out better than you imagined. Being in Jeremy's company is always great; he's a clown, constantly making everyone laugh, even if not intended.

Alan, on the other hand, has a geekier style and is a bit more reserved, resembling those cute librarians the main character falls for in a classic romantic movie. They were a perfect match.

After dinner, your stomach ached from laughter and overeating. The fact that you spent the past few hours laughing and getting drunk made you feel like things were back on track again.

You left their place feeling happy and carefree.

The lobby of your hotel was nearly deserted, with only a few employees and scattered guests, which was odd because the hotel restaurant was usually packed at this hour every day.

As you waited for the elevator, the quiet murmur of the lobby was interrupted by two passing employees whispering about the kitchen being closed for maintenance. “An intern messed something up,” the woman said, her voice loud enough for you to catch.

When the elevator doors opened, Thomas stood there, looking effortlessly handsome. Your heart skipped a beat, and your stomach fluttered nervously. When his eyes met yours he gave a small smile.

You smiled back, hoping your voice wouldn’t betray your nerves. "Heading up?" He nodded, and you stepped into the elevator. The space suddenly felt much smaller. His presence, his warmth, and that cologne mingling with the faint buzz from the wine, made your pulse quicken. "I didn't even know there was a floor below us" you chuckled, trying to ease your nerves. “Well, obviously, there are several negative buttons here," you pointed to the panel awkwardly. “Funny… I never noticed it before.”

"Just a few parking levels," he said in his smooth Birmingham accent, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "How are you? You seem happy."

"Well, I am," you smiled, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "And also in urgent need of a shower. But I'm good." You leaned against the elevator wall, the weight of your shift and your growing desire for him pressing down on you.

"Had a good night, eh?" he asked, glancing briefly at the notification on his phone.

"Yeah, trying to enjoy myself before next week," you said, "I have 36 consecutive hours on call."

"That's a lot of hours," he said, his eyes flicking back to the screen as new notifications appeared.

"Yeah, but I'm used to it," you smiled. "Is everything ok?” you wondered what was all the fuzz on his phone.

“Yeah, just having a kitchen mess today” he put his phone back on his back pocket

“I overheard someone mentiion that it’s closed. A result of some sort of an intern’s lack of care?” you said and watched confused as he frowned

“Sure. That's what happened” he let out almost as a whisper "you should know that things will start to calm down," he replied, and your smile grew wider. His words gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Good to hear that! What happened?" you asked almost as an impulse.

“I'm not sure you want me answering that Y/n…” he chuckled as he got a cigarette out of his pockets. Will he light it in here? you wondered, but he simply put it to rest between his lips.

“Right…” You hesitated, your heart pounding, desperate to talk about something else, too afraid to let that subject be the center of your conversation once again. “So, uh, do you have any plans for tonight?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately regretted it.

Thomas looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze was penetrating, almost as if he could read your thoughts. "Plans?" he echoed, his tone light but curious.

You quickly clarified, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! I was just wondering what you're up to this late at night." You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying to appear nonchalant. Begging for the elevator to stop making random stops at almost every floor and finally get to yours, now hating the fact that he gave you one of the top rooms.

Thomas smiled faintly at your question, his eyes studying you for a moment longer than usual. "Polly is traveling, so I'm checking on things for her and the kitching needs some cleaning up. I'm heading to her room to get the master key"

You nod, trying to hide your slight disappointment at his answer. "Oh, that sounds nice of you," you reply, mentally chiding yourself for asking in the first place. It wasn't like you were inviting him or expecting him to join you, right?. The elevator dinged softly as it reached your floor. “Well, I won't keep you. Have a good night, Thomas."

"You too," he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer before you turned and walked down the hallway.

The elevator doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why did you ask that? You mentally scolded yourself again as you walked down the hall to your room as you replayed the encounter in your mind.

Thomas's presence had a way of unnerving you, yet you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement his proximity brought. As you walked you were already mentally planning your night: a hot shower, maybe some Netflix, and straight to bed. That's all you need right now.

As you settled into your room, the encounter with Thomas replayed in your mind again, like a vivid movie scene. His smile was etched into your memory, and the way he looked at you sparked a warmth deep within.

Your phone buzzed with a notification, breaking your train of thought. It was a message from Jeremy, asking if you got home okay. You quickly replied, assuring him you were fine and thanking him for the fun evening.

Setting your phone aside, you found yourself unable to shake the lingering thoughts of Thomas. The way his presence seemed to fill the elevator, the scent of his cologne that still lingered in your mind - it all stirred something unfamiliar yet exhilarating.

Suddenly your mind started to play games with you as it imagined his hands on your skin as he kissed you desperately on the elevator. His lips gently caressing your cheek, making his way to the warmth between your legs…His body pressing yours against the cold elevator wall.. fuck!

You sat on the edge of your bed, a sudden heat spreading through you. You needed a cold shower to cool down and clear your head.

After a refreshing shower that did little to dampen the heat of your thoughts, you settled into the living room, deciding to distract yourself with a Netflix series. The soft glow of the screen and the familiar characters helped ease your mind, at least temporarily. Ozzy nestled at your feet enjoying your presence but trying not to show it, as all cats do.

The characters on the screen moved and spoke, but your mind kept drifting back to Thomas.The more you thought about him, the harder it was to focus on the TV.

Your mind replayed all the moments you had shared, trying to convince your horny mind that it would be a bad bad idea. But you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him, a magnetic attraction that left you both excited and unnerved.

You sighed and shifted on the couch, trying to shake off the thoughts. But they kept coming, flooding.Remembering the first time you kissed, how you just felt like ripping his clothes apart.

And just like that, loneliness settled over you like a heavy blanket. The silence was too loud, and the emptiness too vast. You looked around, seeking something to occupy your time, but nothing seemed appealing. The wine you had with Jeremy and Alan had left you with a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and courage that now pushed you towards a decision.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the loneliness, but suddenly, you found yourself standing up, driven by an impulse you couldn't quite explain. The thought of Thomas dealing with the kitchen mess alone nagged at you. You had nothing better to do, and the idea of being around him again was too tempting to resist.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed the bottle of whisky you opened a few nights ago and headed to the door. The walk to the elevator felt surreal, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You pressed the button and waited.

As the elevator doors opened, you took a deep breath and stepped inside. The ride down felt both too quick and agonizingly slow, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation. You almost gave up the idea and went back to your room a few times. When the doors opened to the lobby, you made your way towards the kitchen, each step filled with a strange sense of purpose.

You knew it was a bit crazy, but the wine had given you the courage to step out of your comfort zone and yes you needed to fuck, and why the fuck not him?

You reached the kitchen door and paused, taking a moment to steady your breathing and gather the courage to push open the door.

taglist:

@deanlovescassie @hellstears @randomfanfics02 @literishdegree99 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @hellstears @rito4ka @alexxavicry @atomicsoulcollecto @Violet_19999 @lyarr24 @woofgocows @milkshakelol @knowledgefulbutterfly @watercolorskyy @redhead7799 @star017 @stuckinmylittlebubble @bat-luna-cat @babaohhhriley @scullys—alienpussy @kassieesworld @deepangelstudentsworld @batgurl42 @starlitjellyfish @velenzia @lyarr24 @Sweetiecake180 @musicsweetie21 @lostgirl219 @slaypussypop-21 @nyenye @izzwizz774 @ooldcardigan @kielsegur @nikkialex @1nterstellarcha0s @mariamx1 @swingingmusicalfunnydragon @illuminwtesz @lazyylover

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dawnisdreamlanding · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 4

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor!au and Roommate!au

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Hey!! my 3 month hiatus is finally over!! I finally have time to write hahahasdf I hope you guys like this chapter :) Lmk if you wanna get added into the taglist.

Truth be told, Konig could have come back home to you ages ago. But ever since his mission ended a month ago, he’s chosen the stiffness of his military bed over the softer, more appropriately sized bed that’s waiting for him at home. Why, you may ask? Well, it might have something to do with the way the blood of his enemies still cling onto him no matter the amount of times he’s tried to scrub it off and the thought of your horrified face when you find out that it was him who spilled their blood.

It’s a foolish thought to think that a man like Konig could live a normal, civilian life. He’s a battering ram made for the battlefield, and he’ll be that way for the rest of his life. He looks over at his desk which is nearly free of any reports. He’s been trying to find every excuse he can to not go back to your apartment, but it’s the promise he made with you to watch that stupid, stupid show of yours that finally gets him packing to go home.

—

You’ve never been so glad to hear that familiar long tired sigh that only your roommate makes. You practically rush out of the kitchen, dishes forgotten and greet him. “Konig!” you say with a smile. You excitedly stand in front of him, but you know better and keep your hands to himself. He’s never really been a big fan of touch since day one, and you swore to yourself to respect his boundaries, no matter how excited you may be to see him after so long.

So you’re very much surprised when Konig was the one to actually hug you first. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you close and tight, making sure you couldn’t run away — so much so that you couldn’t even lift your arms to hug him back. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry into his private life, waiting patiently until Konig is the one who tells you about his life. It’s one of the qualities he likes about you so much. You don’t pry into his life yet somehow have the capability to care for him somewhat endlessly.

He takes a long, deep breath and it feels like half of his burdens have been lifted from his body when he exhales, the same way you drop a heavy bag after coming home from a long trip. He doesn’t let go of you for quite some time.

While Konig wishes he could be in the moment and enjoy this small comfort he has in his bloodshed-filled life, he is stuck in his own head. How would you react if he told you the nature of his job? Would you push yourself away from him right now? Would you be so disgusted, you’d tell him to never come near you ever again? Konig would understand why.

His fingers press against the cotton material of your cloud sweater you’re wearing as an effort to ground himself. The feeling of your soft sweaters, the way his arms wrap around your body so easily, would he lose all of this? Would “Ko” cease to exist?

It is then that he decides not to tell you — not quite yet, anyway. Call him selfish all you want, but he wants to keep you around and hug you a little more. Spend a couple more nights laughing about dumb characters in pointless shows and watching you eat his cooking after you come back from work. Just a little more of those moments before you slip away from his grasp.

—

The smell of butter melting on bread that wafts into your room wakes you up. You opened a bottle of red wine last night -- a Pinot Noir -- to celebrate him coming home after a long 3 months. He politely declined it when you had offered a glass to him, saying that he didn’t drink. Which struck you as odd, because you swore you remember seeing a can of beer lying in the trash the last time he was home.

You don’t remember much of anything that happened after you downed the 4th glass of red wine but hey, at least your head wasn’t pounding. You pull the blanket off you and you realize that you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes. The bed creaks as you get up and can be heard all the way from the kitchen. “Maus?” Konig calls out.

You show yourself in the kitchen not long after, and he serves you bread rolls with butter and strawberry jam. “I eat this when I was young.” He opens up as he places the plate in front of you. You realize that Konig has opened up more to you in the last 24 hours than he has since you first met him, but you aren’t complaining.

“It’s good.” You say. It’s simple bread and butter, quite literally. Not much Konig could’ve gotten wrong anyway. He seemed nervous as he watched you take that first bite but after your comment, he lights up. “I’m glad.” He says. It takes him a moment to snap out of it, but he sits down opposite of you and he begins eating his own share of the bread rolls.

You can’t help but stare at him in slight wonder, watching him slip the bread rolls under his hood to eat them. “Does it ever get hard to breathe?” Konig freezes momentarily at the question and he thinks that maybe you’ve caught on to the monster he truly is. But after a short moment of silence, you motion to his hood and it all makes sense.

He looks at you; truly looks at you. A little bit of strawberry jam smeared on the left corner of your mouth, a sweeter shade of red than the usual blood he sees on the field. “Sometimes.” He answers with a subtle hint of a secret meaning that he doesn't dare utter. You continue eating but he can't help but stare at you.

He leans forward and his thumb swipes the jam off your face, leaving you a little stunned and a little embarrassed. The jam on his thumb is the same color as the blood on the battlefield but with you in the frame, it isn't blood; it’s a peaceful breakfast eating bread rolls and jam with you on a Sunday morning.

Taglist: @gojo-mochi @itsthealice @multifamdom-lover3 @sleepyoriana

#ghost x reader #konig x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader x konig #konig x you #könig x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #ghost x you #konig cod #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n

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8makes1newworld · 2 months ago

Text

Ateez reaction to you miscarrying

Warning: angst, cursing, mention of coma

Fem!reader and I emerge from my hiatus to post a morsel

Seonghwa

He was thoroughly devastated. How could this happen to the two of you? The sight of you being inconsolable pained his very soul. There was nothing he could say, or do. Except hold you in his arms and hold the fragments of your heart and soul together as you sobbed until you couldn't anymore. “We'll get through this together, always.”

Hongjoong

His world was completely turned upside down. Your pain was his pain and he felt it deep within himself as it squeezed out the joy that was experienced prior to your miscarriage. The grief of the loss nearly consuming you and him together. But he reminded himself that you needed him more now than ever before. Being there for you every second and tending to your needs being a way to distract himself from the loss of the baby. “Let me take care of you, even when I can't make it better.”

Yunho

There's never been a time that he's ever needed a superhero as much as he did now. He, himself wishing that he could be that superhero. But alas, he knew wishing wasn't going to get him anywhere. Yunho forced himself to step up as you lay despondent in the hospital bed. His fingers laced in yours as he tries to not allow his own breaking heart to stand in the way of what mattered most right now. “I will do whatever it takes no matter how hard it is, I promise.”

Yeosang

This had to be a cruel joke. A nightmare that he would wake up from and he'd be lying next to you, the two of you blissfully happy. No matter how many times he closed his eyes and reopened them. The reality staring him straight in the face as you lay unresponsive and breathing in your comatose state in the hospital bed. Tears glistening in his eyes as he begged over and over while holding your clammy hand. “Please come back to me y/n… we'll take as much time as you need to get through this… just come back to me my love.”

San

He couldn't believe this had happened. Somehow he was even more ecstatic about being a parent then you were, and than that excitement morphed into tragedy that snuffed out the happiness that you had shared with him. You had rarely seen San cry. Though now he was as distraught as you were as he held you to his chest. “This can't be real!”

Mingi

One moment the two of you were picking out nursery colors and cute mobiles, the next you were in the hospital in a state of shock and sorrow that had washed away those happy plans like a tsunami. Mingi felt numb from the soul sucking grief and unsure of what to do. It was so sudden, so unimaginable. He stayed by your side waiting until you came out of the shock induced stupor. “It hurts like a fucking bitch. But I'm thankful you're still alive.”

Wooyoung

Why did this have to happen to you and him? Who the hell allowed this to happen to the both of you and fuck them! Those were only a few of the questions that ran through his mind as he consoled you. Anger and bitterness ran rampant and mingled with the deep sadness that was eating away at him as he watched you become incoherent from sobbing and clinging to him as if he were a lifeline. “It's going to work out,” He tried to sound convincing, “We've still got each other and we'll get through this together… every step of the way.”

Jongho

Jongho had seen tragedy happen countless times in his favorite kdramas. But nothing could have prepared him for the magnitude of pain that shrouded your lives when you lost the baby. It was unthinkable. And yet, here you were in his arms crying so hard that you could barely breathe. Worrying him further that you could actually have a heart attack or some other condition as a result of the overwhelming grief. “Shhh y/n, please I don't want to lose you as well, my heart is also breaking and life will be meaningless if I lose you as well...”

#happy fall season #ateez reactions #ateez angst #ateez scenarios

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veeisdunn · 1 year ago

Note

hi, hope youre doing well.

you said you would love to start writing again, and i just have this comforting thought with tommy as reader's brother

(tw: sh, scars, suicide ideation)

just, accomplishing a milestone of being clean, you look back at your scars, and stracing them with your fingertips. hmm, and maybe tommy keeps up with his promise of getting some air with him, at least once a week, and you catch up. i can see him noticing you strace onto them, and he does the same, and his genuine and loving brotherly side comes through. he tells you he loves you and is proud of you, just thankful for you <33

you can see this as a request or a prompt to write about, but you could also just see this as sharing tommy shelby brotherly love to his sibling <3 much love

Milestones

Tommy Shelby x sister!reader

I'm back!! Genuinely didn't think anyone would give a shit about my extended hiatus but I've been proven wrong. I'm going to be working through my requests so if you've requested, just know it's coming!! Thank you so much for the support and all the kind words, hopefully I haven't lost whatever kind of writing spark I may or may not have had...

To the lovely human who requested this, I really hope you especially enjoy it!!

warning: talks of self harm, description of self harm scars, mentions of suicidal ideation

WC: 2.2K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"No, look, as much as I'd love to come and watch you get the shit beaten out of you, I already have plans, Arthur." Tommy argues, hunched over the dining room table with a mess of papers.

"You and your fucking plans, Tommy." Arthur calls out, with an undertone of amusement, as he trudges out of the room.

You pass Arthur, your oldest brother, in the corridor, waltzing down with a skip in your step.

"What's got you so excited, love?" he chuckles

You smile and shake your head "Nothing much, don't get yourself killed tonight Arthur, okay?"

"Full of smart ideas, you are, eh?" He rests his weathered hand on your shoulder for a second and gives it a reassuring squeeze, "It's nice to see you happy again, Y/N." He smiles sincerely. You beam back.

"I'm just going to see Tommy" you explain

"Ah, well don't get disappointed, love, he has plans."

"They're with me." you admit, giddily

Arthur pretends to be deeply offended by this, "Tommy! I went in the fucking trenches with you, and now you're missing my fight to spend time with Y/N?!" he shouts back into the dining room

"Oh I'm sure Y/N could have been in France if she were old enough, she wouldn't have complained nearly as much as you." Tommy yells back.

You giggle and kiss Arthur on the cheek to wish him good luck before bidding him farewell.

When you walk in the dining room, you get the impression that Tommy is knee deep in some kind of bureaucratic nonsense, his papers scattered across the mahogany wood. Part of you expects him to tell you to leave - but he defies your pessimistic expectations.

"Right, let's go." He announces, slapping his knees and turning away from his work. You raise your eyebrows, as if to say "we don't have to go" but he ignores this and leads you from the room. He strides down the cavernous corridors of Arrow House while you nearly have to run just to keep up.

"Tommy…" you whine, trying to get him to slow down. He just laughs and walks faster.

You sigh, "Tommy!" you shout, frustrated. Instead of responding, he starts to run.

"Thomas Shelby!" you shout again, giggling as you kick off your wedge heels and run barefoot after him.

Eventually, you catch up with him at the front door. "Glad you could join me, Y/N!" Your brother teases as he puts on his coat. You roll your eyes and slide your shoes back on, slipping into your own coat.

The pair of you stroll down the sinuous path leading away from the house and into rolling fields. Tommy lights a cigarette and takes a long puff, unintentionally hitting you in the face with a cloud of smoke. He sees this and wordlessly slows down to walk on the other side of you. You admire how your brother can be so careless and thoughtful at the same time. You grin and look down at the path in front of you sheepishly.

This never gets old - you're weekly walks with Tommy. A couple of hours where you could both forget about the world around you and simply enjoy eachothers' company. You'd been reflecting on the past six months a lot recently, and today was finally the day you could proclaim you were six months clean from self-harm.

The routine started by mistake - around when you were found out. You were terrified, and rightly so. How could your family possibly understand this? They'd all done their fair share of bad things, but this? What you couldn't see was the complex cocktail of emotions your family was experiencing. Tommy, in particular, was infuriated with himself. The pair of you had always had a special connection, but then he found out you were suffering silently, hurting yourself, and you refused to confide in anyone. That's where the walks came in. Your brother was sick of watching you wallow inside the four walls of your bedroom, he practically had to drag you out. Knowing you were completely alone with Tommy helped you to open up - as he'd suspected, the house was suffocating you.

"I do this a lot. When I need to clear my head, I come out here and I watch the birds. Sometimes, if I'm really angry, I shoot them. But, you're not the violent type, eh? That's why this is so concerning to me"

"You know, Tommy, I never wanted to hurt anyone." you begin to sob, "I… I just have so many horrible thoughts, but I don't want to tell people, because they aren't nice to hear."

"Can I tell you something, Y/N? I am hurt."

Hearing this, you widen your eyes and your heart sinks. This was your worst fear, the reason you'd been taking things out on yourself in the first place.

"I'm hurt, Y/N. I'm hurt because I haven't been around enough for you. And I'm hurt because you're hurting. I don't want either of us to be in pain anymore, don't you?"

You never really had the words to express to Tommy how much that conversation meant to you. After hearing him, you made a vow to yourself that this would all stop. The only emotion you had which was stronger than your misery was your love for your family. You couldn't bear to stand them suffering.

You never really had to tell Tommy how much the conversation had helped you. You made it apparent through your actions - after a week had dragged by, you found yourself knocking tentatively on Tommy's office door again, feeling like a scared child.

"Tommy, can we please go on another walk? I want to talk."

He felt both relieved but also rather smug after that day - Tommy had cracked the code. He also grew to find this time beneficial for himself as well. When he was out alone with you, he wasn't 'Thomas Shelby, the criminal-soldier turned politician'. He was just Tommy.

" - Y/N? Are you even listening?" Tommy's gruff voice cut through your daydream

"yeah, mhm, of course" you reply, slightly flustered

"right so what's your answer, yes or no?"

Fuck. Yes is good… usually? Right? But this is Tommy, he could be asking anything. Maybe a no would be better - chances are Tommy is scheming something dangerous, and you should probably be the voice of reason.

"No, Tommy." You say with false confidence

"No? You don't want me to take a week off to spend time with you once your classes are over?" He chuckles

"Shit, no, yes! Yes I do! That sounds lovely, Tommy, really." you splutter desperately while he continues to smile.

"You weren't listening, love, weren't you?"

"No…" you whine, "Sorry…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, if I have a ramble about some stuff, do you think you could listen to me?"

—

" …and then he told me that the cabinet don't see any of this as a priority anyway" Tommy sighed, finishing his rant which explained the mountains of paperwork he was buried in.

You don't have any advice to give, politics isn't one of your expertise, afterall. You rest your head on his shoulder and hum, as if to say "I hear you, [insert meaningful political statement here]" - or something like that.

He hums back, as if you're two birds in a song. You are both huddled under a willow tree, watching the sun set over the sown fields of the estate. Tommy treasures these moments in particular - you both sat in comfortable silence, breathing in the soft country air. He took comfort in the peaceful nature of your breathing, and how your silky hair tickled his neck with each exhale.

Your fingers absentmindedly found their way to your wrist, the memories of pain you held being particularly potent on this anniversary. You gently traced over the bumpy skin, you'd gotten used to this feeling - most people would probably hate having such shredded, scarred skin but you much preferred it to bleeding. Feeling the scars reminded you of how far you'd come, seeing that many of them were no longer red and angry reminded you that you were healing.

As Tommy put out his cigarette, he caught sight of your fingers caressing your wrist. Thinking about it made his heart sink - it had been awhile since you'd both spoken about it, and it had been even longer since he'd actually seen your wrists.

You'd had an awful day at school; you teacher had chastised you in front of the entire class for an essay you'd turned in late. You'd been clean about a month and you were struggling to keep it that way. You weren't expecting any of your close family to be around Small Heath, so you stormed through the front door and up the stairs, throwing your leather satchel of books across the room. You then went under your bed to search for your emergency box - containing a blade and some bandages. You weren't actually sure if you were going to use it, but you wanted the option.

That's how Tommy found you. He'd heard the noise, you'd have to be deaf not to. He let himself in your room and was greeted with the sight of you on the floor in tears, a blade in your hand.

He scrambled down to the floor and snatched the blade from your hand, putting it in his pocket. "Hey, Y/N, Y/N, look at me, okay?" He said frantically. You looked up at him with your glazed eyes and said nothing, paralyzed in fear. He wasted no time in rolling your sleeves up to check your wrists. He sighed a breath of relief to see only pinkish lines and scabs - no fresh cuts.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, alright?" He wheezed to get his breath back, before engulfing you in a tight hug.

That was five months ago, and those dark, angry scars had lightened to create a cluster of white lines on your wrist. He moves his hand closer to yours, "may I?" he asks, gesturing to your wrist. You nod, not really sure what else to say. His touch on your scars sends shivers through your body. He raises his eyebrows at your reaction.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it just feels weird."

He sighs and rhythmically runs his fingers across the bumps on your skin.

"They look better" he speaks in a low, tender voice

"it's been six months"

"six months today?"

You nod. Tommy cracks a wide smile, expelling the tension in the air. He takes his hand from your wrist and slings his arm firmly around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"You never cease to amaze me, Y/N, you know that, right?"

You blush and look down at your lap. He puts his free hand under your chin and gently guides your eyes to meet his.

"I know you get embarrassed hearing it, but I'm so proud of you Y/N, I'm so proud." Tommy speaks with a kind and earnest tone.

You scrunch your eyebrows, not wanting to take his love, "But most people never hurt themselves in the first place, Tom."

"Don't lessen your achievements, you aren't most people, Y/N. I don't care what they've all done or not done, I can bet you've fought harder than all of em" He says lovingly, squeezing your shoulder.

You can't argue with that, you have fought like hell to get to where you are.

"And, Y/N, I don't think I say it enough, but I love you. I love everything about you, even the parts of yourself that you don't like. I love all of you." Tommy's voice is quiet, almost as if he's whispering to you. You lift your hand up to your face and wipe away some stray tears.

"No, no, c'mere Y/N" he protests, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing your cheeks tenderly. This just makes you cry even more, your head collides with his chest as you try to calm your tears. Tommy wraps his arms around you and rocks you gently, resting his chin on your head.

"It's just - I just love you so much Tommy, but I don't think I show you enough and then… and then I feel so bad because I feel like I look ungrateful for everything you do for me but I'm so grateful Tom, and I just don't know how to show people that I care." You cry, you're angry at yourself, tears still flowing down your cheeks.

"Y/N? just take a breath, okay? Take a deep breath" Tommy reminds you, resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing his forehead against yours, "Just breathe, alright?"

You follow his words and take a shaky breath.

"You know, you're the last person who should be worrying about that kind of thing. You don't have to announce your love for people every day, you're actions speak louder than your words, love. You're a good person, you do everything with good intentions, and it's clear as day how much you care about everyone around you. I don't know many people who care as much as you do, Y/N." Tommy smiles, looking you in the eyes.

You smile, a few tears still falling. You sniffle.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you… more." he smirks

"We are not having this argument again."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡

Vee x

MASTERLIST

#peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #shelby #angst #comfort #hurt #shelby sister #peaky fookin blinders #cillian murphy #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagines #peaky binders imagine #imagines #shelby sis #tw self harm #peaky blinders x sister!reader

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all-about-kyu · 11 months ago

Text

Summary: You’ve been on hiatus with Jaemin for a while now. Your daughter was born just over five months ago, and you can’t help but miss your fans. Pairing: Jaemin x fem!reader Tropes: idol au, established relationship au, parent au Genre: fluff Warning: pregnancy (not yn), Taeyong’s a bit anxious, body image issues, mentions of breastfeeding, mentions of Taeil’s injury Word Count: 2,334 Note: I know that SAMLFY has been over for 2 years, bUT I MISS THEM!! Happy blog anniversary! The female unit songs are æspa songs <3 (this takes place between epilogue 2 and 3) thank you to @anyamaris and @wooahaeproductions for beta reading this!!

Before You Interact

“Czennie!” Johnny calls out, “Did you have fun?”

You hear the roars of your fans from backstage. You’ve been on hiatus since your fourth month of pregnancy. Jaemin, of course, went on hiatus with you. He said the thought of you just sitting around your home by yourself drove him wild, knowing he could be helping you out. The two of you have been on hiatus for a full year. While you love relaxing at home with your husband and daughter, you miss seeing your members more often than once a week. The exception, of course, is your brother and Mark, who come over nearly every day.

You feel Jaemin lean his head onto your shoulder. His eyes are fixated on your five-month-old. Hoyeon happily makes babbling noises as if she’s having a full conversation with her father. Jaemin chuckles and responds to her whenever she pauses. You look away from the duo for a moment to see Doyeon resting on a nearby couch. She’s exhausted, and honestly, you can’t blame her. She’s seven months pregnant and very ready to be done sharing her body. You remember when you were tired of sharing and just wanted to hold your little girl in your arms.

“You sure about this?” Taeyong asks softly.

“I’m sure. I’m not going to break at walking. Walking on the stage won’t induce my labor, I still have two more months; Sangha is safe, and so am I.” His fiancée chuckles, holding his hand in hers.

Taeyong turns his gaze toward you, Jaemin, and Hoyeon. His eyes twinkle when your daughter giggles at him.

“Are you two sure, too?”

You give him a soft smile, passing Hoyeon to Jaemin. Walking up to Taeyong, you give him a short hug and you can practically feel the nerves radiating off of him.

You pull away and give him that same soft but confident look. “We’ll be okay. We’ve posted a few photos with her and have security just in case. You’ve been so worried about us long before we had her. I promise everything will be okay.” You reassure.

Jaemin gets up and kisses your temple when he reaches you. He only adds small comments to help soothe Taeyong’s worries further. With Doyeon starting her final trimester, he’s become more worrisome than he was before. You know it’s all coming from a good place. You do wish he would relax a little bit, though.

Doyeon gets up and walks over to a stagehand. Your eyebrows furrow together not sure what she’s up to. Her left hand is resting on her belly. Her engagement ring glints in the lights of the room. The young man nods and walks away. When he returns, he has a handheld mic in his hand. Doyeon happily takes it from him. You swear Taeyong’s eyes go as wide as saucers. He doesn’t intervene, though. You both watch as she digs through her bag and finds a box you all know well. It’s her in-ears.

“What are you up to?” Taeyong finally asks.

“What does it look like?” Doyeon responds, fixing her in-ears. “The staff knows, the members don’t. I wanted to surprise them. I brought your in-ears, too, if you want them. Jaemin, y/n, I may or may not have asked your manager to grab yours, too.” She tells you as if she’s speaking about the weather.

Jaemin gives you a look. You know it well. He knows you’re about to join your older friend in her plan. You smile at him brightly and kiss Hoyeon’s cheek. Skipping toward your manager, you hold your hand out. He already knows what you’re asking for, and a moment later, your in-ears are in your hand. You hear the very familiar tune of one of the female unit songs. You know that Chenguang is covering Doyeon’s part while Juliette is covering yours. You’re happy for her. You know she doesn’t get many lines, so to have her covering your parts makes you happy on her behalf.

Doyeon nudges you and nods toward the stage entrance, “You ready to scare the shit out of Rose when we walk on that stage?”

“I hope so.”

“You don’t need to feed Hoyeon before we go on?”

You shake your head, “I fed her a little bit ago.”

“Let’s do this.” She says with determination.

A small bubble of anxiety grows inside you. You haven’t been on a stage in a year. Your body definitely isn’t what it was before your pregnancy. Looking back at your husband, you search for some reassurance. He gives you a small smile, takes Hoyeon’s chubby hand, and makes her motion to cheer you on. That’s enough to quell your anxiety. You fix your in-ears one last time and link arms with Doyeon. Your older friend gives you a sweet smile before the two of you start walking.

Once you arrive at the side of the stage, you stay hidden from the others. They’re currently performing Illusion. That’s a song neither you nor Doyeon are in any condition to perform. You went on hiatus a month after the album release, and Doyeon is far too pregnant to perform that choreography. Watching the girls perform only makes you want to jump right in and join them despite hardly remembering the choreo.

“I can feel the excitement radiating off of you.” Doyeon teases.

“I missed this.” You admit, “I’ve been off stage for too long.”

Doyeon scrunches her nose at you, “We both have. We were so used to the ‘go go go’ lifestyle that neither of us knew how to sit still for this long. I mean, look at me. I’m seven months pregnant and about to walk on stage.”

“You’re going to give Taeyong a heart attack, you know that?”

She giggles and nods, “We’re gonna wait for them to finish this up, and when it comes to our lines in ICU, we’ll walk out.”

You nod and watch as the rest of the members wrap up the song— your heart pounds in your chest. Your in-ears cancel out the sound of the audience; your member’s voices are clear in your ear along with the metronome as you hear Kaia belt out the last line. The lights fade out while they break out of formation to start walking around the stage for the second song. Yuki’s voice fills your ears as she starts singing the song’s first line. She’s crouched down, waving at fans as she sings. Kaia and Alice are playing around as they walk around the stage, also interacting with fans as they goof around. Chenguang, Rose, and Juliette are all wandering around, admiring the crowd as they wait for their turns to sing.

Your line grows closer, and you take a deep breath. You look over at Doyeon and see her reaching out for your hand and squeezing it tight before standing up. You start to sing before you and Doyeon are visible on the stage. Juliette jumps, not having expected to hear your voice. She whips around and sees you walking up to her with Doyeon in tow. Your member continues to sing as she walks toward you. She’s fighting back tears when she reaches out, and you take her hand. You sing your line with her. The others process what’s happened and rush over to the three of you. Chenguang practically throws herself into Doyeon’s arms as she lets her tears flow. Her lines are completely abandoned, and instead, Doyeon takes it up on herself to sing them. Yuki wraps her arm around your waist and walks around with you as she sings. Rose joins you and Yuki a moment later, wrapping her arm around your other side. Kaia and Alice stay by Doyeon. Your heavily pregnant friend likely doesn’t want to walk too much, and you can’t blame her. When the song wraps up, the eight of you meet up on the main stage and form a large group hug.

Again, the lights fade out. None of you move, though. Of course, the six members not on hiatus are in shock. Doyeon’s pregnancy hormones finally smacked her in the face, causing her to sob despite everyone else’s crying dwindling down to sniffles.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were–” Rose cuts off her own question.

“I had no part of this. It was all Doyeon. I found out right before walking onto this stage.” You chuckle.

The male members don’t take long to file on stage for the encore. Almost immediately, you get the air knocked out of you. Your twin brother practically body-slams you with a hug. He quietly asks if his niece is here; you nod subtly against his shoulder. You hear Johnny open up the encore song, Beautiful. You stay wrapped up in your brother’s arms. When you pull away, you feel a hand graze against your shoulders. You turn to see Mark smiling at you.

“Hey, stranger.” He jokes, “Having seen you in a bit.”

“You were at my house yesterday.” you chuckle.

“I mean on stage.” He adds.

You nod, “I missed this.”

You hear Doyeon singing just as beautifully as always despite the shortness of breath you know she’s been experiencing in the later months of her pregnancy. Starting to walk around, you meet the members on stage again, smiling brightly and playing around as you sing. You didn’t expect to hear Taeyong’s voice flood the speakers. You turn around and see him walking out, singing his verse of the song. He immediately gravitates toward his fiancée and bumps his head lightly against hers. You know that Jaemin likely won’t walk on stage. He wouldn’t leave Hoyeon with anyone, even your manager, for more than five minutes. As you watch the audience and your members, you feel yourself overcome with emotion. Small tears spring from your eyes, but you wipe them away.

The song ends, and Taeyong calls the twenty of you to the main stage. He practically screams out for czennies. He missed them just as much as you, Jaemin, and Doyeon did. He leads the group introduction, relieving Johnny of his temporary leader position for the time being.

“Czennie!” Taeyong yells again, “I missed you all so much. I know our members have been doing amazing with Doyeon, Jaemin, y/n, and me on hiatus. With Taeil’s injury added, our members did such an incredible job tonight.”

You smile, watching him smile brightly at the audience while holding Doyeon close to him. The other members start doing their ending ments, and you chuckle lightly when Alice teases you and Doyeon for scaring everyone in the midst of performing. You stay quiet and allow the members to speak. You do wish that Taeil could be here as well, but you’d much rather he rest and heal instead.

“My turn?” You question, “Well, hello, everyone! It’s been far too long!” You stop and hear the fans’ cheers for you. “I’ve been trying to keep you all updated a bit on my social media, but being a mom is definitely a full-time job.” You giggle, “I’ve missed you all so much, and I know-”

You get cut off by the sound of babbling over the speaker. Twenty heads snap to the side stage. Jaemin is walking up with Hoyeon. She has sound-cancelling headphones over her small head to ensure her hearing is safe. Somehow, your manager overprepares for the things that may never happen. In this case, you’re very thankful he overprepared. You take your daughter from Jaemin and kiss her little face. Jaemin smiles sweetly at the pair of you.

“Czennie,” You speak into the mic, “Welcome our first NCT baby!”

Knowing some people would abuse the information, you don’t say her name. None of the members meant to be on hiatus are done up for the concert. Jaemin is in a black T-shirt with a light jacket over it and a pair of ripped jeans. Still, he looks devastatingly handsome. Hoyeon’s eyes are wide as she takes in the rather overstimulating surroundings. Her eyes fixate on you, then Jaemin. Suddenly, though, your daughter squirms in your hold and reaches out behind you. She sees her uncle. Donghyuck happily reaches out to her and steals her from your arms.

The other members continue their ments as Hyuck busies himself, entertaining Hoyeon. Still, she squirms again, reaching out past him. Just behind him is an oblivious Jisung. He’s talking with fans quietly, but your daughter has her mind set on the youngest member. Xiaojun nudges Jisung and points toward your five-month-old. Awkwardly, Jisung takes her, fixing her headphones when they shift. She immediately tries to eat his mic, which is fixated in front of his mouth. The action results in a loud coo sounding through the arena. Yangyang busts out laughing when your baby interrupts Renjun’s ment.

Soon enough, Hoyeon turns her head around trying to find you again. You pull your phone just far enough out of your pocket to check the time. It’s time for her to be fed again. Jaemin glances over at you and has a silent conversation. He knows it’s time to go, too. You walk over to Jisung, who is still fighting to keep his clothes out of Hoyeon’s mouth, to retrieve your daughter. The youngest quickly passes her back to you. Taeyong seems to get the hint, and since all the members have done their closing ments, he leads the final bow. You carefully join, making sure to keep Hoyeon supported and safe. Both you and Jaemin step closer to the edge of the stage and wave to fans before exiting with the others.

It’s been a while since you’ve been on stage, but you know you’ll never tire of it. For now, though, you’ll focus on your little one. When the time comes, you’ll return to the stage and continue where you left off.

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

Tag List: @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris

#jaemin fanfic #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #jaemin x reader

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bad268 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! if you want to or if you feel like it can you write anything about droid pezzy grizzy or puffer any of them you absolutely don't have to and if you want to can you write smth related to this

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CpFzEIjINj9/?igshid=MjljNjAzYmU=

Bubblegum Bitch (Big Puffer X Streamer! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (Took me a minute, I was tossing up different ideas for this I hope you like it!)

Warnings: Language ig

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1159

Summary: A broken promise leads to revenge.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Screenshot from sleep stream vid/can't remember which)

Chat was being a pain today. Well, they were always a pain, but it seemed more than usual. After your 3 month hiatus from streaming and social media, the chat was bound to be hectic. Add to the fact that it was a sleep stream. Yeah, it should've been expected that chat would have a field day.

"I get it, guys," you started off as you started setting up media share, "I haven't been active in forever. Y'all are just crazy, and I needed a break." You glanced over at the messages, most of it is just random letters and emotes. Some of it was welcoming you back to streaming, some asking if you're going to have a regular streaming schedule again, and some complaining that media share is not working. "Hold your horses, guys. I'm still setting it up, takes time."

You ended up putting on some elevator music to fill the silence as you continued to set up media share. At one point, someone sent a donation, and apparently, the sound was already connected to the speakers, so it nearly blew your eardrums out.

"Is Puffer joining you?" It said.

"Jesus, fuck, no," you laughed. "Ain't no way I could convince Puffer to join me for a sleep stream. Actually, maybe..." you trailed off, pulling your phone off the charger to text our chat. "Okay, we'll see what he says. In the meantime, feel free to blast him on Twitter or something. Blow up his notifications, so he'll have to join. I think he's streaming now, too, so feel free to leave while I set up media share."

Meanwhile, Puffer was streaming a you laugh, you spin the wheel, and his own chat had convinced him to add "sleep stream" to the list. Just as he spun the wheel, the last time for his stream, his chat starts blowing more so than usual. Instead of paying attention to the wheel, he focuses on what the chat is talking about. Most of them begging the wheel to land on the sleep stream or asking him to join his significant other.

"Did (twitch user) send you? I already told them I'm not joining," he laughed before beginning to dial your number but immediately stopped once he saw what the wheel landed on: sleep stream. "Oh fuck off. Really?" His attention flips to be solely focused on the wheel, making sure it actually landed on the sleep stream. "What if I just go join (twitch user)? Will that make you happy? Will that count?" Seeing the chat fill with yeses and happy emotes, he started setting up for a raid to his significant other with a sigh. "Fine, head over there. I'll be over there in a minute."

In your room, you finally got media share to work, and all of your viewers (plus Puffer's from the raid you didn't know you had) witnessed you get jumpscared by the Buzz Lightyear commercial. "There's gotta be a minimum for that. I can see why Puffer does $50 minimum for it."

"Puffer is coming" A donation read through the speakers, scaring you once again.

"Oh, how did y'all convince him? I'm curious," You asked chat, looking through the messages in hopes of seeing anyone answer my question.

"Unluck of the wheel and opportunity," Puffer answered as he walked into your office in a comfier outfit than what he was streaming in with a pillow and blanked. "The wheel landed on sleep stream, so I'm just going to join you."

The stream was hell, to put it lightly. With Puffer's audience excited for the sleep stream and your chat finally happy to see some content, there were no silence moments the entire night.

"I am never doing a sleep stream again," Puffer groaned as he hid his face in your neck while you checked the chat on your phone.

"On the bright side, it's gonna be over soon," You laughed, setting your phone down as you played with his hair. "Mods just told me that someone just sent in the last video of the night. Should be playing soon."

Looking up at the screen when you hear a song playing, it's Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA. Your eyes grew wide as you registered that it was the video you made over the break, teasing Puffer. The same video that you swore not to post.

"What the fuck is that..." Puffer trailed off, seeing you and him in the video. Then it gets to the chorus, and the video shows you grabbing him by the shirt, pulling him in like you were going to kiss him before pushing him away again. Immediately, he remembers when that happened. "You said you weren't going to post that!"

"I put it in the member's discord," You defended, "It was a challenge they asked me to do anyway, so one of them is a little snitch."

"On that note, we are done. I am done. I am never doing a sleep stream again," He exaggerated as he jumped out of the bed, leaving the room. "And I am never trusting you again!"

"Look at what you guys did," I lectured chat as I moved to end the stream. "Just for that, no stream for the rest of the week. See you guys next week! Think about what you've done. Bye!"

Two days later, Puffer was still salty. You promised not to post that video, yet there it was on the internet. He was going to get back at you, and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

It was a chill day. One where you were cuddling into Puffer’s side as a movie played in the background, and you both scrolled through your phones. You put yours to the side as you got hit with a wave of exhaustion, pulling the blanket that was across your laps up to your shoulders.

This was his chance, he thought. You were nearly asleep, so you would not question his actions. He made sure his headphones were connected before setting up his phone to record your reaction. He gently shook you away during the lead-up of the song, your face filled with confusion, as he moved his hand to rest on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss, but he stopped just short.

“I’ll chew you up and,” He whispered against your lips before pushing you back, “I’ll spit you out.” Your face dropped in shock as you realized what he was doing. “Cause that’s what young love is all about.”

“So pull me closer,” You whispered back, overcoming the shock, as you grabbed his chin to pull him in, “and kiss me hard.”

“I’m gonna pop your bubblegum heart,” You both whispered together while jokingly glaring at each other.

“I’m gonna post this,” Puffer said after a minute of just staring into your eyes. “I think that’s fair.”

“All is fair in love and war.”

~~~~~

#big puffer x reader #bigpuffer x reader #frog boys #bigpuffer #puffer x reader #big puffer #youtuber oneshot #elastic droid #grizzy #pezzy #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx · 6 months ago

Text

Duty & Inclination

Faramir x male!reader

Requested: Anonymous

Summary: “Hello! May I request a fluff with faramir x male!reader? Maybe where the reader is also from a royal background?”

Pre-Lord of The Rings events

Authors Note: Dear Anon, I am so sorry to keep you waiting for so long for this fic. It has been like, two years since you submitted this... but I hope you are still around to enjoy it!!! I do feel like my writing while I’ve been on hiatus has gotten much better, so please enjoy :)

Also the title is from a book about Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens lmao

This may get a part two, I would love to continue this honestly and I want it to be a slow burn.

You gave yourself a (third) final glance-over in the mirror. It had been nearly two years since your father had suddenly passed, leaving you to shoulder his responsibilities sooner than anyone had ever anticipated. Tonight's feast in Minas Tirith was to be a grand showing of the continued allegiance to the Steward of the White City by the smaller lords that dotted the nation's countryside. As one such lord, you were to promise to provide fighting men or supplies should the Steward call upon them - an increasing demand as the shadows of Mordor encroached upon the land

Despite attending a handful of these feasts when you were younger, you couldn't help the growing pit of nerves in your stomach. This would be your first major diplomatic event since inheriting your father's title. You had attended to smaller matters and made appearances in your own holdings yes, but that was a familiar audience in a familiar setting. Now, you would be subjected to the scrutinizing eye of the Steward, Denethor, and his court.

With all of this weighing on your mind, you smoothed the front of your tunic. It was finely embroidered - your family's crest placed across your chest. Perhaps a little odd, but the familiar shield and symbols gave you comfort. May my forefathers give me the strength to get through this night, you thought.

---

The mingling and light drinking that often preceded these feasts had yet to conclude. Already, you felt socially drained from the number of "battles", as you had taken to calling them, you fought. Older lords that engaged you in conversation for the sole purpose of testing the mettle of the newest addition to their ranks. A countless number of Mother's hunting you down to introduce their "most eligible and accomplished" daughters. The air inside the room felt warm and suffocating, with not a moments respite before being ambushed into yet another formal conversation.

The announcement of the entrance of the Steward and his two sons, Boromir and Faramir, provided an ample enough distraction for you to slip unnoticed to an open balcony. Leaning over the intricately carved white ledge, you breathed in the freedom of the open air. The balcony overlooked the gardens, allowing the delicate vanilla-and-jasmine scent of honeysuckle to dance in the warm summer air. Nursing your goblet of wine, you released a sigh you didn't know you were holding. If you closed your eyes, you could almost envision you were home - walking in the gardens, taking a seat beside the fountain where the roses and honeysuckle flourished, opening a copy of your favorite book-

The noise of footsteps behind you jolted you out of your daydream. A man's gentle voice fell upon your ears:

"Forgive me, I was unaware someone else had found the same hiding spot." You turned and were met by his soft grey eyes and the cascade of brown hair that fell nearly to his shoulders. Becoming aware that you were staring, practically gawking, at this stranger, you tried to offer a reply as the heat rose to your cheeks.

"Oh, it is quite alright. I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us to take refuge from the siege going on in there." At that, the corner of his mouth quirked up and he released a quiet chuckle. You flashed him a smirk of your own, shifting over and gesturing with a wave of your arm for him to join you. You both took in the picturesque view, enjoying the rare moment of silence, before you turned you head to talk to him.

"I suppose I'm correct in guessing you're more of a veteran at court if this is your go-to getaway?" He shifted to face toward you, a twinkle, perhaps of amusement, in his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose I am a veteran. On the other hand, I don't believe I have ever seen you here?"

"Definitely not. At least, if you have, it has been a long while." You sipped some of your wine before continuing, "I have only recently become responsible for my lands and my people. I spent much of my life in the country except for the occasional visit to Minas Tirith as a child."

"I am sorry for your loss," he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know it is no easy task when others place such great expectations on you," he gave an extra squeeze to your shoulder before removing his hand, a faraway look coming over his eyes.

"Come now, let's not dwell on such things," You gently nudged him with your elbow. Taking a deep breath, you relaxed into the familiar floral scent of your daydream. "You know, before you joined me, I was reminiscing about the gardens at home. When I was a child, my friend and I would run absolutely wild in them. We would pick all of the honeysuckle flowers to get our fill of their sweet syrup. My mother nearly killed us after we picked all of the flowers within our reach." The light-hearted air returned to the man's demeanor at the account of your childhood antics.

"You see that fountain over there," he leaned closer to you to point out the structure within the garden. The scent of leather and books filled your senses. "As boys, my brother and I would wrestle and have water fights in it to battle the heat. It was perfectly fine until one day, my tutor came in search of me - I was late for one of my lessons you see - and my brother and I, we pulled him into the fountain with us." Your muffled laughter was barely contained by the hand you had placed over your mouth. "I still can't believe he ever forgave us for that," he finished.

"I wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't", you teased. "I did not take you for such a trouble maker," you continued laughing, your voice now intermingling with his own laughter. After the two of you had settled down, a suspicion finally struck your mind.

"Forgive me, I have been terribly rude and never asked for your name," you questioned.

"There is nothing to forgive, I assure you. I am Faramir, Captain of Gondor and second son to the Steward, Denethor." He gave a small bow with his head. The confirmation of who your fellow-refugee-companion was flushed your face with heat. Quickly, you bowed and gave him your name.

"I apologize for not recognizing you myself, my Lord. I am afraid I have acted too familiarly with one such as yourself." You kept your gaze away from him out of embarrassment. Great job, you thought sarcastically to yourself. You're supposed to swear allegiance to the Steward, yet you cannot even recognize one of his own sons. You must look like an absolute fool. You felt Faramir's hand gently take your chin, raising your eyes towards him.

"Again, there is nothing to forgive. I find your honesty and humor most refreshing. I do believe your companionship may make this night more bearable." Realizing how strongly and straightforward his words came out, a blush crept across his cheeks. Looking into his eyes, you could see that there was something there - an emotion, yet one you could not place. The light and musical ringing of a bell announced that the Steward and his guests would now be going through to the dining room for the feast. The noise of the guests moving and continuing their chatter broke the both of you away from the moment you had shared. Faramir removed his hand from where it had still been holding your chin. You tore your eye's away from his gaze, looking instead to the emptying room. You cleared your throat.

"It seems our refuge from the siege is over," your humorous tone returned once more. Leading the way, Faramir took a few steps towards the entrance back into the room, before turning and offering you a small smile.

"Ah, but at least we may weather the fury of the storm together now. Much better than trying to fight the battle alone, I believe." You chuckled at this comment.

Yes, back into the thick of it, but now you had someone to stand by your side, providing each other back up if the other should need it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @themerriweathermage @entishramblings @miriel-estelwen

(if you guys no longer wish to be on my tag-list please let me know!)

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #faramir #faramir x y/n #faramir x reader #faramir x you #faramir x male!reader #faramir x male reader #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lotr x y/n

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

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how are our balcony babies 🥹🥹 pls tell me theyre doing well

AWWW I love them. They were my first little mini-series that I didn't have pre-written when i logged back on after a super long depressed-hiatus lol. Let me go back and see where I left them. I think they were on the balcony, right? Surely they were...

Nope, it was the bathroom hehehe (The Balcony)

Okay, let's see.

They're definitely doing well. But it had almost been a year from when they met so I think it's safe to assume it's been another full year. So I think they're talking about moving into just one of the apartments but it's a whole ordeal because if they move into one place then they lose one of their pretty balconies.

"But...the balconies?"

"I know kitten, believe me. I know."

Because how do they decide? Because her balcony is where Harry saw her dancing while she did her chores in her underwear and kickstarted their real relationship. It's also the one where they christened it with the first of many times they had covert sex in their own little balcony bubble. His balcony is where he wrote songs about her smile. Where he pulled her into his arms to dance with her on the anniversary that he told her loved her. (And where she gave him one of the most earthshattering orgasms that she promised at the end of the last chapter.)

What she would really like to do is knock the wall down between the two places but two kitchens would be excessive and obviously they don't own the building. Half of her belongings were in Harry's place and half of his stuff was in hers. It didn't feel like two separate places. They melded together so effortlessly the moment they met it was almost seamless in their relationship. She would sometimes come home from work and go to Harry's apartment and get settled into making dinner and watching TV while it cooked before she realized Harry was in her apartment doing laundry for the two of them.

But Harry is also thinking about kids they might have in the future and he knows they can't live in an apartment for the rest of their lives so he broaches the idea they get a house. However she is so distraught with the idea of abandoning both balconies all together she nearly cries and Harry has to snuggle with her for an hour on the lounge chair out there before she calms down a bit.

Rationally she knows he's right--they need a house. Especially because she has a piece of plastic in her pocket that has two little pink lines on it.

She has been waiting for the perfect time to tell Harry that their little escapades have resulted in a little one already growing inside her. She's nervous because they've very briefly talked about kids but always felt it was a future plan and part of her is worried Harry might not want to do this right now.

But now they have to move either into one of the apartments or find a place and she knows, that of course, there is a right option. "Harry," she murmurs after she's calmed down.

"Yes, kitten," he kisses her forehead.

"We need a house."

"We don't have to...if y'don't want to--"

"No," she sighed pulling the plastic wand out of her pocket. "We need a house."

Harry is staring at it for a second trying to put the pieces together but he's so overwhelmed with love he can hardly breathe. "Kitten, we need t'get married," he murmurs and slides his way down the chair, pulls her shirt over his head and begins kissing her tummy over and over and over again chatting to the microscopic essence of what will be the perfect blend of them in just nine short months.

"Can the house have a balcony?" She asks letting harry talk to her stomach--even though he's barely on the lounge chair and he looks down right insane hiding under her shirt.

"Of course, m'love. It can have anything you want. You're giving me everything."

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buildarocketboys · 7 months ago

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54 or 95 + Peterick! (no pressure ask!!)

Thanks babe! Some hiatus angst for you!

54. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. That’s the problem.”

Pete practically drags Patrick home from his bar.

The man is Drunk, with a capital D. Pete's not sure he's ever seen him this drunk, and he's known Patrick since before he was of legal drinking age. Hell, he was there when Patrick got drunk for the first time, and may or may not have been responsible for several of the beers and shots that had gone down Patrick's throat that night.

But this is something else. Patrick's a mess.

Such a mess that Pete doesn't trust Patrick to be able to get home by himself.

He slips into the cab next to him.

Patrick makes a face at him.

"Why're you here?" he slurs. His voice is filled with such venom, even in his state of advanced drunkenness, that Pete cringes away.

"Just making sure you get home OK," he mutters, suddenly wondering whether he's doing the right thing. He thought he had been, thought he was just being a good friend (are he and Patrick even friends anymore?) good person, anyway, making sure Patrick gets home safe. But maybe he should have let someone else do it. Patrick obviously doesn't want anything to do with him.

Even though he had come to Pete's bar.

Patrick snorts. "Nah. I know what you want." He pokes Pete in the chest, then grabs Pete's hand and holds it against his crotch. "Go on. Take it."

Pete snatches his hand back, alarmed. "Patrick, I'd never do that!"

Patrick blows a raspberry and mumbles something that sounds like, "Yeah, right."

Pete lets his head fall back against the headrest, closing his eyes and threatening to stem the tide of self-loathing that threatens to overwhelm him. Because Patrick's not entirely wrong. He likes to think he's better than that these days, and he's never taken advantage of anyone this drunk, but even so.

He gulps air like he's dying and hopes Patrick's too out of it to notice Pete having a minor panic attack next to him.

Some part of Patrick must register it, though, because suddenly Patrick's hand is firmly gripping his knee. A calming, grounding presence.

Pete covers Patrick's hand with his own. Patrick doesn't push him away.

Bit by bit, his breathing slows and he's gradually able to calm himself down. By the time they're at Patrick's house, he feels almost normal.

Patrick falls down trying to get out of the car. Pete hauls him up, excruciatingly aware of how much lighter Patrick is these days.

He helps Patrick to the door as Patrick fumbles in his pockets for his key. He eventually pulls it out, to Pete's relief, because he's not sure he'd hear the end of it if he had to slide his hand into Patrick's ass pocket.

He takes it from Patrick and unlocks the door; it'll just be quicker.

Patrick scowls at him, his gaze a little unfocused. "I could have done that," he says.

Pete sighs. He can feel a headache coming on. He hasn't even drunk anything tonight - how is that fair? "Let's just pretend we had this argument and I won, OK?"

Patrick mutters something no doubt scathing under his breath and lets Pete guide him up the stairs, the two of them nearly stumbling and falling over a pile of stuff halfway up.

Actually, Pete realizes once he's got Patrick to his bedroom, Patrick's house is a dump. He wonders if Patrick still has a cleaner; he's never been good at looking after himself, so he'd hired a cleaner pretty much as soon as he was making enough money to do so. But he knows Patrick's plowed all his savings into making his solo record; maybe he'd decided a cleaner was an unnecessary expense.

Pete takes a shaky breath in and rubs his face. Not his problem anymore. Patrick doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, and Pete had promised himself he'd give Patrick some space. Patrick doesn't need him all up in his business.

Patrick's made that very fucking clear.

He staggers down the stairs to the kitchen, thinking he'll just get Patrick an aspirin and a big glass of water and then clear off.

When he tentatively knocks on Patrick's door and pokes his head round, he's relieved to see Patrick's in bed.

He sets the glass of water and the painkillers on the nightstand.

"Pete?"

Pete had thought Patrick had passed out, but apparently not. His (ex? former?) best friend blinks up at him from the bed, like he's only just seeing him.

Pete swallows. "Got you some water. And an aspirin. You might hate me, but there's no reason you should hate yourself when you wake up in the morning."

The joke falls flat as Patrick just stares up at Pete.

Pete clears his throat, about to make his excuses and leave, when Patrick speaks.

"I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. That’s the problem." Patrick's voice is raw, vulnerable.

Pete can't even bear to look at him.

"Yeah, well," says Pete. Then he gives a weak chuckle that sounds wetter than Pete would like. "I should be going." He turns away from Patrick toward the door.

"You can sleep on the sofa, if you want," Patrick says.

The sofa.

It's an olive branch and a bitter pill rolled into one. The Patrick of even a year ago would never have made him sleep on the sofa.

Pete kind of wants to curl up and die.

"Uh, thanks. But I've kinda gotta get back to the bar."

It's a weak excuse, and they both know it. Pete glances over his shoulder, wondering if Patrick will put up a fight, hoping he will.

But the light in Patrick's eyes just fades out, and he slumps back into his pillows. "Oh. Yeah."

Pete waits a moment longer, for what, he doesn't know. But Patrick doesn't say anything else, and neither does he.

He leaves. Wishing with every atom in his body that he could stay.

#judasisgayriot #asks #ask meme #peterick #pete wentz #patrick stump #fob #my writing #uhhh #alcohol tw #also brief minor reference to taking advantage of someone while they're under the influence

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