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godsfavdarling · 4 months ago

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There’s no rush

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader words: 1150 summary: Spencer wants to take your relationship to the next level, but you had some bad experiences, and they come rushing back into your mind while you're making out. warnings: anxiety/panic attack, reader has had a bad experience with intimacy in a previous relationship. (but of course, Spencer is a sweetheart so - comfort!) a/n: This was a request!

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now. Both of you naturally gravitated towards taking things slow, never feeling the need to rush. Your relationship blossomed through shared interests, especially chess and classic literature, although you often disagreed on interpretations and he won almost every chess game. It got so bad that he went easy on you once, but you immediately noticed.

Late-night conversations were a tradition, even when he was away. You couldn't go to sleep without talking to him first.

And to top it all off, there were those passionate make-out sessions that never went further. It was an unspoken agreement, a comfortable rhythm that you both appreciated. Every now and then, you found yourself on Spencer’s worn-out couch, usually with him on top of you, gently kissing and hugging. Sometimes, the make-out sessions would turn into playful tickling, transforming the make out session into a laughing session that ended with tough ribs and tummy aches.

Tonight was no different, or so you thought. You were on Spencer’s couch, his hands in your hair as your lips moved together in a familiar dance. His weight was gently pressing on you, which felt heavenly. Your hands roamed over his sides and back.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm hue over both of you. Everything felt perfect, like it always did when you were with him.

Spencer’s kisses trailed down to your neck, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His touch was gentle, his lips warm and inviting. You let out a soft sigh, melting into the moment, into him, and into the couch. You wished you could stay like this forever, trapped between them.

Then, his voice broke the comfortable silence, “I’ve been thinking…”

Your heart skipped a beat. Spencer’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of something else- anticipation, maybe? His words seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the soft sounds of your breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.

“We’ve been dating for a while now,” he continued, his lips brushing against your skin. His breath was warm, sending another shiver down your spine. “I’ve been thinking…how about we take things further?”

His words were soft, almost tentative, yet filled with a kind of yearning. You could feel the weight of his question, the way his hands paused their gentle movements on your back. Spencer's eyes, usually so full of curiosity and warmth, now held a deeper intensity, reflecting the flickering lamp light.

His eyes full of yearning and want and hope.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “I want to be closer to you,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a delicate path along your jawline.

His words took a moment to fully sink in, but once they did, panic gripped you instantly. Your chest tightened, and your mind started to race. He felt so good against you, his weight a comforting presence, and he was so sweet, so understanding. You loved the way he made you feel but...

Memories from a past relationship surfaced, memories you had tried so hard to bury. The fear, the hurt - it all came rushing back, overwhelming you. You remembered the pain, the nights spent crying, the way you had felt so vulnerable and exposed. The intimacy that once brought joy had turned into a source of ache and anxiety.

The room seemed to close in around you, and you felt the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes.

You wanted to be with Spencer in every way, but could you? Want and could were two different things. You desired nothing more than to let yourself go, to be vulnerable and open with him, but the fear held you back, a chain from your past that refused to break.

The longing in your heart clashed with the anxiety in your mind, creating a storm of emotions that left you feeling trapped and unsure.

You pulled away, your breathing shallow and rapid. Spencer’s eyes widened in concern as he immediately sensed the change in you. “Hey, are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry, his hands gently cupping your face.

You couldn’t find your voice.

You had to tell him, you couldn’t keep this from him, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Spencer didn’t press you. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, his hand running soothingly through your hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered softly, “You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe.”

You focused on his voice, on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear. The sound was calming, a steady anchor. Slowly, you felt your panic begin to subside. The tightness in your chest eased, replaced by the warmth and security of having him near you. His scent, a comforting mix of old books and something uniquely Spencer, surrounded you, grounding you in the present moment, on his couch, in his arms. You were okay.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Spencer’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said gently, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “It’s okay. We're okay. We’ll go at your pace. There’s no rush. We don’t have to do anything”

“But you said…” you started, your voice trailing off.

“It’s still true. I want to be with you. I want to be close to you.” Spencer interrupted gently. “But I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Your feelings and comfort are what matter most to me.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but understanding and compassion. It gave you the courage to speak. “It’s just…my last relationship. It…it, I don’t know. I mean, I know… it’s just…” Your voice faltered, and the words became tangled in your throat. Tears began to overwhelm you, cutting off your ability to continue.

Spencer’s expression softened further, but a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes—not at you, but at the person who had caused you pain and made you feel scared and anxious. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a deep sense of empathy. “I’m really sorry that you had to go through that.I’m sorry that some loser hurt you. You don’t have to share anything more if you’re not ready, but I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. I understand.”

He paused, his voice steady and reassuring. “And I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll go at your pace. There’s no rush.”

You leaned into him, feeling safe in his arms. You were okay. You and Spencer were okay, and the love between you was a comfort you have never felt before. You knew he loved you, and you loved him in return.

And that was all you needed.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x gn reader #gn reader #criminal minds fluff #fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x gn!reader #gn!reader

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torturedtypewritersdept · 20 days ago

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proclivity - part four - savior complex

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

As you pulled away from the kiss, panting, you searched Rafe’s eyes and only found solace in them. Why did this feel so right? Was it the greenhouse or the beauty of the plants surrounding you, the hues of green in the leaves that towered over your figure? Was it the romance or the pouring rain? You couldn’t put your finger on it and then, his blue eyes bore into yours and you could. It was Rafe. It was the man of your dreams kissing you at the college you’d both attend. You’d dreamed about this moment forever, thinking it would never really come and yet, you had your guard up, wondering when things got tough, if he’d run away again.

“Rafe-”

He kissed you passionately again, cutting off your words, both hands cradling your cheeks like his life depended on it. You chuckled.

“Rafe..”

You placed your hands against his chest, pushing him away.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

His tone was kind. It stung. You wanted him as close as you could get him, his sweet voice replaying over and over again in your ears forever.

“I-, w-we can’t do this.”

You stuttered out.

“What do you mean?”

The hurt washed over his face and you immediately regretted the words that left your lips.

“I’ve wanted this with you forever and-”

Your words were cut off by Rafe once more, his pleading eyes, begging you not to let the moment end.

“Then, have it with me. I’m right here.”

Before your brain could register its next move, the words were spewing out of your mouth at an aggressive volume.

“You have a reputation with girls, okay?”

You said forcefully.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He asks, accusingly. Though, the hurt laced in his blue eyes makes your chest tight.

“It means I can’t be another one of your conquests. I can’t be another girl at a party or in your truck or on your lap in a golf cart if you’re not going to care about me next week. I’ve been there before, I can’t do it again.”

You blurted out without thinking, really. But, you can’t deny the words – you meant them. The truth was, you had been that girl, minus the sex, you’d been his girl and then one day, like whiplash after a car accident, you’d woken up and he was gone. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle that again.

“Is that what you think of me?”

His head hung low as he whispered. Before you were able to reply, your thoughts were quickly shoved away when the dinging of your phone erupted from within your backpack that still sat on Rafe’s shoulders. His features softened as yours fell.

“You feel okay? Is that the tone for your blood sugar?”

He asks gently.

“It always does some stupid shit at the worst conceivable time.”

He could tell you beat yourself about it, your illness. He wondered why, no one could help being sick. Who had made you feel like it was a problem? You looked down at your phone as Rafe handed it to you and realized your blood sugar was fine, you perked up at that. But, mentally cursed at Topper’s contact flashing across your screen.

“I’m okay, Rafe. Don’t worry. It’s just Top.”

You gave him a reassuring smile and he returned it. The words from moments ago seemingly forgotten, at least for now.

“Hello?”

You asked, clearing the phlegm from your throat.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

He questioned.

“We’re in the arboretum.”

You replied with the hint of a smile.

“You and that fucking greenhouse, I swear. Okay, well. Let’s get a move on. It’s pouring rain and I’m ready to go home.”

Topper’s attitude had hurt you more than usual and your smile quickly faltered.

“O-okay. We’ll be there soon.”

You spoke into the speaker, trying to keep your voice even as you ended the call.

“Everything okay?”

Rafe asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah, Topper just being Topper. He’s ready to go home because of the rain.”

You let out a defeated chuckle, eyes tracing to your feet. Rafe had heard what Topper said. You and that fucking greenhouse. Rafe never understood how Topper could be so tone deaf, such a fucking idiot. Why was loving beautiful things so wrong?

“Okay.”

Rafe nodded and led you out of the front door of the greenhouse. This time there was no hand on your back or smile from him and you had never craved his warmth so much. There were no words exchanged between the two of you, only your guilt eating away at your core and before you knew it you were back at the Jeep. Rafe didn’t open your door for you and at that revelation, you swallowed thickly and tears lined your eyes. You had ruined your one chance with him. Topper and Kelce were taken aback by the sudden rigidity between you and the Cameron boy, but knew better than to say anything about it. They only assumed the happiness was short lived and you’d go back to hating each other. The car ride was long and agonizing and after two hours of radio silence from Rafe, you were in shambles. So you did what any teenager with no self respect would, you texted him.

Y: Can we talk?

R: for what

Y: i’m sorry

R: why

Y: I was mean and you didn’t deserve that, just got scared

R: scared? Of what?

Y: you.

R: why would you be scared of me?

Y: because I know what kind of hurt your absence can bring.

He didn’t respond to the last text and you took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had fucked this up. This entire day was perfect until you opened your big fat dumb fucking mouth and now the intimacy, the closeness, the Rafe you had so desperately prayed for was slipping out of your grasp. You could almost cry, but you knew if you started you’d never stop. Brought out of your thoughts by Rafe’s gruff voice, you looked to him as he spoke to Topper.

“Just go to Y/N’s house instead of mine.”

Your face fell and you started to spiral, he had taken back his dinner invitation and you could no longer hold in your tears, scared he was going to go away again, this time maybe permanently. You simply couldn’t bear that pain again.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

Topper questioned, worry lacing his features as he took in the look on your face.

“Yeah, m’fine.”

The tone of your voice made the hair on the back of Rafe’s neck stand up. It was flat, in a broken, numb sort of way. He hadn’t heard you use that tone since the night he took Maggie Mills up to his room after a party. He never understood why that had upset you so much. He looked at you, watching as tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes and you stared at the floorboard of Top’s car. You couldn’t feel anything, numbness over taking your body. He placed his hand on your shoulder, begging you to look at him, but your eyes remained locked on the floor. You couldn’t face him, not now, not after you had ruined things with him, again. You were brought away from the sadness by the ding of your phone. It was Rafe, again.

R: please tell me what’s wrong

Y: isn’t it obvious

R: no, please tell me

Y: you don’t want me at dinner now. You don’t want me.

R: what?

Rafe began to put two and two together and visibly winced at the fear he had struck within you.

R: I just wanted you to have fresh clothes. I’m sorry, I should’ve said that. Please don’t cry, pretty girl. I’d never do that to you.

You didn’t reply to his message, but he looked on as your body slowly began to relax and reached over, wiping the tears from your cheeks and giving you a subtle smile. You returned it. Rafe had always catered to your anxiety, but he hadn’t been around you in so long, he almost couldn’t recognize it when it overcame you. Topper pulled into your driveway soon after and you were quick to rush inside, slipping into a new dress, adorned with pale pink lilies, and grabbing extra insulin before making your way back out to the jeep and climbing in next to Rafe. You quickly unzipped the bag that sat in between the two of you and shoved the insulin inside and you looked down at your phone, checking your levels one more time. They were still fairly normal, reading at 85 mg. Rafe looked over your shoulder, making sure your levels were okay and he was pleased when he saw they were. He knew it had been a long time since you’d eaten and you needed real food soon. As the sound of Topper’s brakes bringing the car to a halt met your ears, you locked eyes with Rafe who hopped out of the car almost immediately.

“Well boys, this was fun. I’ll see you two soon.”

You say with a false cheek.

“Bye, beautiful.”

Kelce muttered, dragging out the “L” on his last word. Topper simply nodded his head in your direction, unsure of what was going on between you and Rafe, but too tired to ask questions. By the time you had said your goodbyes to both boys, Rafe had made his way around to the side of the car and opened your door, helping you out with the grasp of his hand.

“Thanks, Rafe.”

You whispered, looking at the ground, still too spooked to look him in the eye.

“No problem, pretty girl.”

He smiled in response to your gratitude and the both of you made your way into the house.

“Rafe, is that you?”

Rose called to him as you both entered the foyer.

“Yeah, it’s us.”

He called back to her. She quickly emerged from the kitchen, meeting you both in the huge room, giving her greetings and ushering you over to the table where you were met with your father’s disapproving eyes.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you. I was wondering where you were all day.”

Your mother chimed in, walking over to you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Hi, mama. Yeah, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and I left early this morning to tour UNC. We made it back just in time for dinner.”

“That’s wonderful, sweet girl! Did you love it?”

She questioned.

“Yes. Rafe took me to the greenhouse.”

You smiled, but it quickly faded as you looked over at him, remembering the events that followed. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Rafe! Thank you, that’s been my girl’s dream for quite some time, being in that greenhouse, with you especially.”

She smiled brightly in his direction and gave him a wink. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed at your mother’s outburst of too much fucking information. Rafe let out a low chuckle and your brother, Brock, opened his mouth to speak.

“Hopefully she wasn’t too much trouble for you, today, Rafe.”

He spoke, his tone demeaning.

“She’s never any trouble, she’s my best girl.”

Rafe responded in an even, joking tone, in an attempt to diffuse the situation before his temper got the best of him. His hand made its way to your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When did your brother become such a dick and what gave him the right to speak about you like you weren’t in the room? The subject quickly changed as Rose and Ward began asking you and Rafe about the campus and your majors.

“So, Y/N, what are you thinking of majoring in?”

Ward questioned.

“I’d like to go into English with a minor in entrepreneurship. I’d like to take some business classes, too, I think.”

You responded.

“That’s wonderful! Business and English are two things that will help you so much in the working world.”

He replied, truly excited for you. He’s always been one of your favorite adults.

“Yeah, thank you! I think so too.”

You replied with a sweet smile.

“You know, you could always intern at Cameron Development this summer and get some hands on training with Rafe, Brock, and I.”

He suggested.

“Thank you, Ward. I seriously would love that!”

You smiled his way, unsure if you’d take him up on his offer. It would look good on college applications and it would mean more time with Rafe, those were both good things, right?

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, y/n. I don’t know that you could handle the workload, what with your condition and all.”

Brock said quickly with a sneer. You cast your eyes immediately down to where your hands sat in your lap.

“What about you, Rafe?”

Your mother questioned him, ignoring your brother. It hurt that they oftentimes bowed down to his asshole nature, not wanting to fight with him. Sometimes you just wanted to feel fought for.

“Dad and I have been talking about me going to business school and running the company eventually.”

Rafe replied quietly, still unsure he had heard Brock correctly. Because the guy he knew loved his sister, he wouldn’t be treating you like this, especially not in public.

“Of course! You’re a smart young man, it’s only fitting. You have a bright future ahead of you.”

She replied with a cheerful tone.

“Thank you, that means so much coming from you.”

He replied with a kind smile. He always loved your mother and her sweet words meant the world to him. The familiar beep of your glucose monitor brought your attention away from the conversation and toward your phone in your lap. Rafe watched you intently, reading the levels over your shoulder. 80mg. ‘That can’t be good’, he thought.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

He whispered into your ear and you met his eyes.

“I’m not feeling good, but I’m fine. I need to eat soon.”

You responded, reassuring him. Even though you knew your levels were getting dangerously low.

“How much longer on the food, Rose?”

Rafe questioned.

“About 5 minutes.”

She smiled, letting him know it would be right out. Thirty seconds passed and the alert on your phone beeped loudly once more. You averted your gaze from your brother’s eyes and let out a sigh, but that didn’t stop his mouth from opening.

“Not this shit again.”

He spoke, boldly.

“What did you just say?”

Rafe’s tone was coated with venom, as he gave your brother a tight lipped smile, urging him to repeat himself, daring him to.

“I’m just tired of the same shit everyday. She needs sugar, she needs insulin, blah, blah, blah. Everything is always about her.”

He gritted out.

“Oh you’re tired of it?! How the fuck do you think she feels?”

Your father interjected, keeping his voice low, his kind honey-colored eyes becoming dark at Brock’s words. He’s clearly had enough.

“Well, I’m sorry, this might not be my place. But, I don’t think she’s thrilled about it either and here she is dealing with it. It went off and she sighed, all she did was fucking sigh. She didn’t demand attention from everyone in the room. All she did was fucking sigh and you know what? She’s allowed to do that. She’s allowed to be frustrated about something that is wrong with her body. You could show some fucking compassion.”

Rafe growled.

“Rafael Joseph Cameron! Language!”

Ward spoke Rafe’s full name, his tone laced with warning.

“What dad?! You can’t let him talk about her like that!”

He said, exasperatedly.

“Ward, it’s really okay. He deserves to be bitched at.”

Your mother spoke, sticking up for Rafe.

“She’s a type one diabetic, not a fucking drug addict and i’ll be damned if I let you sit here and treat her like one.”

At Rafe’s words the table fell silent. His father knew what the weight of his words carried, and now, so did you. Luckily for you, Rose served you your food first after the meal was done cooking and your sugar quickly went back up to normal levels, which was a giant relief to Rafe. Most of the dinner was silent after the conversation fizzled out. The words of your father affected you more than you cared to admit, yet not as much as Rafe’s. Rafe stood up for you in a room with two men that scared the shit out of you, all without batting an eye or worrying about a consequence. He stood up to his father for you and you knew you couldn’t just let that go. The conversations quickly became about business and Rafe watched as you mentally checked out, which probed his next question to you.

“Why don’t we go out to the dock, sweet girl?”

You simply nodded in response, thankful to him for saving you from listening to your brother’s bullshit business plans any longer. Rafe helped you out of your chair and pushed it in behind you, leading you out the patio doors with his large hand placed on the small of your back. You quickly made your way to the dock on the other side of the cool grass, taking your shoes off and plunging your feet in as you sat on the edge of where the wood met the water.

“You okay?”

He asked, his cerulean eyes taking in your form.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you for sticking up for me in there.”

You gave him your best smile, even though he could see right through it.

“How long has he been treating you that way?”

“Since the day I came home from the hospital.”

You whispered, but Rafe heard you, loud and clear.

“Can you tell me about it? I mean, what happened when you got sick.”

You swallowed thickly. Talking about your illness was easy but talking about it with Rafe was just different. He wasn’t there when you got sick and you resented him for it, but you also resented yourself for not giving him the opportunity to be.

“It happened the Thursday after we stopped talking. I was with Topper, we were at the club, just swinging some golf balls and dicking around. He was with me everyday that week just to make sure I was handling things well and I wasn’t, so I’m glad I had him.”

You said, with no particular emotion.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispered out, hanging his head in shame.

“You don’t have to apologize Rafe, I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I just-, if I’m gonna tell you what happened, I have to tell the whole story.”

You replied, trying to reassure him.

“I know and I want to know everything.”

He stated with a sheepish smile, nodding his head for you to continue.

“I told Top I wasn’t feeling good that morning, but I thought it was just because I was hungover and when we went to play golf, I figured I’d be fine. But when we got to the third hole, I noticed that I was kinda nauseous and dizzy and my hands were shaking. I heard Top ask if I was okay before I hit the ground but I couldn’t register anything. Evidently he had called an ambulance because I woke up in the ICU three days later. They said I had a seizure and went into diabetic shock, which is when we found out I had type one.”

You finished with a swirl of anxiety in your belly.

“As much as it pains me to say this, I’m thankful you had Top.”

Rafe smiled into his joke. His distaste for the closeness Topper shared with you had always been prevalent, but especially after the two of you had gone your separate ways.

“Yeah, the funny thing is, I laid in that hospital bed for days willing myself to call you but I couldn’t do it.”

You said suddenly.

“I wish you would have.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his immediately.

“I couldn’t do that to you. You decided you wanted a life without me in it and I respected that even if I didn’t understand it. I never wanted me being sick to be the reason you came back, I wanted you to come back because you wanted to. But it hurt like hell that I had to walk through that without you.”

Rafe quickly pulled you in and wrapped his large hand around the back of your head, pooling your hair in his hands. He hugged you tightly and suddenly it felt like all the broken pieces of your heart had been mended.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl. Please, forgive me.”

His voice broke as the words stumbled out of his mouth. He felt like there was no air in his lungs and all he knew was that he needed your forgiveness like he needed to breathe. He pulled back, holding you by your shoulders, looking to your eyes for confirmation of the hatred he was sure you felt for him, yet he couldn’t find it.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Rafael.”

You spoke softly, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster up.

“Y/N, I need you to know that I’m never going to leave you again.”

He said so sure – more sure of anything than he has ever been in his entire life.

“I appreciate that Rafe and I hope it’s true. It’s just so hard for me to trust that.”

You replied candidly.

“I know and I’m going to work everyday to prove to you that you can trust me.”

He responded, willing to do anything to prove that to you.

“I hope you do.”

He nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed.

“So, uh, where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

He asked, sheepishly, as he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck - one of his many nervous habits. His voice came out small and awkward and it made you laugh.

“I don’t know, Cameron. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

Your eyes met, as you nudged his shoulder, which made him smile.

“Lots of practice.”

He replied and you visibly winced at the words that you had spoken to him earlier. You have a reputation with girls, okay? The hurt that laced his irises when the words left your lips would haunt you forever.

“Hey, listen, about what I said earlier-”

You began, but didn’t get to finish.

“It’s okay, I deserved it.”

He replied, his head hanging low. You gently lifted his chin, so his eyes met yours.

“You didn’t, not from me.”

You said, very matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean?”

He asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“I mean, I’ve always been your person – the one you tell anything to. It isn’t fair of me to project my shit onto you, so I’m sorry. That’s not what I think of you, Rafe and I need you to know that. I just got scared.”

You replied, laying your heart directly in his hands.

“Why are you so scared, sweet girl?”

He wasn’t trying to pry, he just genuinely didn’t understand what you had to be afraid of, surely it wasn’t him.

“I just-, I went through some things with JJ.”

He nodded, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together in his brain.

“I see. You know you can talk to me, right? I mean – if you want to tell me, ya know, I’m the guy you tell.”

He replied, assurance laced in his blue orbs.

“Yeah, I do and I will when I’m ready.”

He nodded, taking your answer as gospel. He knew you’d tell him when you were ready. He quickly changed the subject.

“What days are you working this week?”

He questioned.

“Uh-, Tomorrow, Wednesday, and Friday. Why?”

You asked, confused.

“Is it okay if I come see you?”

He questioned, voice sheepish, unable to make eye contact with you in fear of your rejection. That’s what all this has been about to begin with hasn’t it – the years away from you, the fear that he just wasn’t enough.

“You can always come see me. But, why do you want to hang out at the club?”

You smiled in his direction, noting how respectful it was for him not to just show up.

“I am a member, you know?”

He joked and flush filled your cheeks. Bold of you to assume he'd be there for you, you thought. He must have noticed the change in your demeanor, because he grabbed your hand and lifted your chin.

“I want to spend time with you, silly girl and I can only gain your trust by spending all the time I can with you.”

You smiled at him.

“Thank you, Rafe. That’s sweet.”

You looked in his eyes, thanking him for more than just his sweet words and he had no idea.

You walked into the club at 4pm the next day, spotting Rafe immediately as he sat at the bar, waiting for your inevitable arrival. You were shocked to see him, even though he said he’d come. Truth be told, you hadn’t taken most of what Rafe Cameron said seriously in the last few years, but him showing up meant something to you. It meant more to you than you cared to admit. After you clocked in and made your way behind the bar, your eyes met his.

“Well, hey pretty girl.”

He flashed you that Rafe Cameron smile and it was over. You were done for.

“Hello, Rafael, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

You said, smiling back at him.

“Just wanted to hang out with my girl, that’s all.”

He replied cheekily. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“She’s working.”

You retorted, a fun-loving tone soaking your tongue, dispersing from him to check on your tables. You glanced his way a few times, only to be met with eyes studying your form. Your co-worker Emily made her way over to you, noticing his gaze.

“So, why is Rafe Cameron being a creepy stalker and staring you down like a serial killer?”

You chuckled, Emily or Em as she was known by her friends, had quite the knack for being dramatic.

“Em, he is not a serial killer or creepy!”

You yelped, rolling your eyes at her.

“Whatever you say, angel. But, I better not see your face on the side of a milk carton any time soon.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes at her and made your way back to the bar. You wanted to chat with Rafe for a bit while the club was slow, but he was heading out for the night and that stung a little. As he gathered his wallet and keys in his hands, you snuck up behind him, placing your arm at the small of his back.

“You just gonna leave with no goodbye?”

You smiled up at him, secretly hoping that wasn’t his intention. His face lit up at the sight of your smiling face beaming up at him and he relished in the feeling of your hand on his back, touching him like this.

“No way, pretty girl. Never. Dad called and needed me home, something with Sarah.”

He responded.

“Okay. Well, be careful.”

You replied.

“Always am. You call if you need me to take you home, okay?”

He asks, but it’s not a question.

“Okay, Rafael. Be good.”

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand before letting him go and watching him walk out the front door. The rest of the night drug by, Sundays were usually very busy with Kildare residents playing golf while heavily intoxicated, but most of the traffic died down around dinner time. It was your night to close so you were by yourself after Emily went home at 4 and that meant blasting Taylor Swift while you started closing the club down for the night. You wiped the tables down first, belting out the lyrics to your favorite Taylor song to date I Almost Do. You could remember it having a different meaning when you and Rafe had parted ways, singing it at the top of your lungs in your bedroom, willing yourself to pick up the phone and call him. Now, the words didn’t sting as much and instead, you just wanted to feel his warmth. It was no longer the song of your heart, now it was just another song. Those feelings seemed so far away and you couldn’t help but feel thankful. You were brought out of your thoughts by none other than JJ Maybank busting through the front door of the club and you knew this could only mean disaster. You locked eyes with him and that devilish smirk that he somehow always sported sent chills down your spine.

“Miss me, angel?”

He questioned, hiss in his tone. You ignored him, which you knew better than to do. You knew what it would do to him. You knew it drove him absolutely insane, but you did it anyway because it felt good.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

His yell echoed through the building and the fear that you remembered so well returned.

“What, JJ? What do you want?”

You scoffed.

“I want your attention, honey.”

He spoke softer now and you couldn’t help but think wow, what a psycho.

“Sorry, you’ve lost that privilege.”

“I haven’t lost anything, darling. Don’t forget who you belong to.”

His sneer was sinister and you knew what he meant, what he was capable of. As he walked out of the door, tears filled your vision. You wanted so badly to call Rafe but you knew it would only mean disaster. He couldn’t know everything, yet. So, instead you finished closing the club and went home.

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

as always, if you'd like to be tagged please let me know <3

#bestie ♡#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe imagine #rafe <3 #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #ex bff!rafe x diabetic!reader

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alpydk · 1 month ago

Text

Communication

It's that time of year again when I am unexpectedly hit with a smutty idea. Seriously, I've been pretty antismut recently and was almost accepting it wouldn't come back. So... here we go. (Also I wanted an excuse to use this gif even if it doesn't match anything in the plot.)

Tav and Gale are happily married... sort of. Tav takes matters into her own hands.

Word Count - 3571 - C/W - Smut, Gale needs a suck hug

A year they had been married, one of blissful exploration of the senses, days lying on picnic blankets with wine and poetry, nights with gentle prayers on flushed lips. Gale had learnt her body as if it were the Weave itself, the way the curves dipped and rose like the valleys beyond the coastal mountains, the way she would whine when his tongue flicked upon sensitive flesh. He played her delicately, the sweetest symphony of harp strings at his fingertips.

Whispers of love and devotion filled the air as he lay with her, worshiping her body, giving sacrifice after sacrifice. His goddess. His Tav. She was his world; she was the stars and moon; she was magic. And he swore he would make her complete in every way he could.

A short giggle could be heard from the library, the kind given when eyes met a longed for but unbefitting sight: the lustful suck of a finger, a bead of sweat rolling down a firm abdomen. Her cheeks blushed like that of the ripest apple. Tav lowered the letter she’d received, the words leaving her heart beating rapidly and mind on a trail of adventure. As Gale entered the room, she quickly hid it behind her back, the smirk however remaining against her will.

“A beautiful smile on a beautiful morning,” he commented, choosing to ignore the sheet of paper she clenched in her hand.

This hadn’t been the first letter in the past tenday that she had hidden from him, her eyes bright and mood giddy. He’d seen the penmanship, the curved AA that lay at the bottom with the red rose wax seal. He had tried to approach her on the matter, only for her to dismiss his concerns. Rather than open the discussion further, to outright ask her what the letters were about, he instead tried to do better by her. He put himself more into complementing her, into cooking and cleaning. He used his practiced tongue in the way he knew best and hoped that it would be enough to keep her sated.

The broad grin she held wavered, her eyes dimming a little as the words of the letter thankfully secluded themselves in the deepest part of her mind. “I’m to take a trip. I received the letter but a moment ago.”

“A trip?”

She had not spoken of anything of the sort recently, but then secrets were becoming more common with each passing day. The letters, the odd sending spell he detected as he watched her from the balcony. Words he never heard; words not meant for him to know. He stepped towards her, trying to push down the budding anxiety in his chest. He was losing her, and a trip would merely be the apparition fading into the unknown.

“You never mentioned…” His voice trailed off, hoping she would explain further, hoping he wouldn’t have to piece everything together and find a conclusion that would strike him painfully down to the core.

She kept the letter clutched behind her, feeling the coarse creases of the paper in her grasp. His worry was evident. It had been each night she had slid out of the bed away from his embrace, as she had smiled without happiness at his conjured stars, as she felt the brush of his lips upon hers but not felt the passionate fires of their first nights together.

“I didn’t think it was going to happen. It’s only a few days in Baldur’s Gate on behalf of the library there.” She knew the lie wasn’t the best, but anything like sick relatives or another serious matter would have resulted in Gale wanting to attend with her. “I’ll be staying at the boarding house at Wyrm’s Crossing. You remember the one, don’t you?”

“Not exactly the safest or most extravagant of establishments, my dear. I could always come with you, and we could stay at the Elfsong.”

She was quick to cut off the idea. “Oh no, you can’t. You have that seminar.” Tav had already taken all the dates into account. How Gale couldn’t get out of the conference on Netherese lore and fable and would be forced to stay in Waterdeep. “Besides, it will be an adventure of sorts for me. Just like old times.”

That was what concerned him most. She would find someone else if she hadn’t already and that would be it between them. Searching for solutions, he was met with nothing. Days passed, the trip nearing, and he found that each question he had was met with an already summoned answer, all ideas met with criticisms. She had planned this journey far in advance and she was leaving, whether he liked it or not.

“Tav, my love. You know I do not wish to smother you, nor stifle your free-spirited personality, but I cannot help but be concerned that something is amiss.” He took her hand in his, desperately searching her eyes for the truth, for the love he had once known from her.

All Tav could do was place her lips to his, ignore the burning in her closed eyes of the tears which threatened everything. She hated how she was hurting him, but this was for the best. If he was to be happy, to be complete, she had to leave. “I love you.”

He didn’t know if he believed the words she whispered, if her kiss was anything but a cruel substitute prize to soften the abandonment. She said she would come back, and Gale clung to that thread as if it were his last lifeline, a magical artefact to quell the destructive orb within. “And I love you.”

---

The tower felt cold and empty without her there. It would be a tenday travel to Baldur’s Gate, then however long she stayed there, then a further tenday back providing no issues occurred with the transport. She claimed it was the quickest she could do, the spells too expensive for teleportation, that the route was nice to travel this time of year, and again he had accepted her words. He knew more time away gave her more distance to cover before he would accept the truth, but he was too blinded by love, too desperate to be loved, that he accepted it all and clung onto hope.

Spending his days throwing himself into his research and teaching, he hoped it would help the time pass quicker. The AA on the letter bothered him more than it should have, the image of red rose petals she would no doubt be lying amongst distracting him from his tasks. Gale knew Tav’s past with the pale-skinned elf, someone he considered a friend, and he also knew that despite his own physical skills, he did not have two hundred years of experience to fall back on. Making love to a goddess was not the same as worshipping a mortal, and it was there he would always fall short if compared.

The route home was dismal as the rain came thundering down late in the evening. Tav had been gone for two tenday and Gale was slowly finding the routine of loneliness once again. There had been no contact since she’d left, no replies to his sending spells, no letters to know she had arrived safety. The library of Waterdeep had no confirmation of any trip, only that she had scheduled days away with an open return date. It had been that result which had confirmed everything to him, and he had prepared to move on, no matter how much it hurt.

He opened the door to the tower, his cloak drenched and knees aching from the icy winds that blew. Finding a light glimmering down the stairwell from the upper floor, he felt his heart rate increase, an igniting of the buried ember of hope he’d tried to bury.

“Darling, a little deeper… How does that feel?”

Gale heard the familiar purr and with it the soft whine of Tav, one he’d learnt himself by heart.

“Oh… again, right there…” she whimpered. “Astarion, you’re so good at this.”

Gale chucked off the sodden cloak and ran up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his legs. Wet footprints lined the stone steps, a trail of the storm left in his wake. Anger burnt deeply inside him, that they would have the nerve to return to his home and partake in such intimate activities, that she would hate him so much that she would hurt him in such a way. To abandon him without a word was something he could unfortunately handle, experience no difference between goddess or mortal, but to have the relationship trampled on, to so ashamedly flaunt someone else in his face, was simply cruel.

He pushed open the heavy oak door to the bedroom; the laden fireplace flickering, creating dancing shadows on the walls of books and paintings. Ruffled navy-blue bedsheets lay exactly how he had left them in the morning, not twisted with the sight of two lovers in the throes of passion. What he had expected to see naked and entwined instead sat fully clothed on the sofa, both staring at him with a mixture of embarrassment and humour on their faces. Wine glasses lay on the wooden table before them, various books opened to random pages, abandoned with the night’s discussions.

Tav grinned, removing Astarion’s cool hand from her shoulder as she went to get up. “You’re late,” she joked, standing and approaching Gale. The confusion merged with anger was evident on his face, but she hoped it would pass quickly now she had returned.

“And you’re back…”

She stood within arm’s reach of Gale, wanting to lift her hand and touch the soaked white shirt and dripping chestnut hair, but not knowing if it would be the right thing to do. Neither knew what to say, how to start the inevitable discussion of her previous whereabouts.

Astarion broke the awkward silence, rising from his seat, and sipping the last of his glass of red wine before him. “I’ll take that as my cue.” He sauntered over to Tav, placing a soft but goading kiss upon her cheek. “Enjoy your night lovebirds, and if you need me, don’t be afraid to send one of your little spells.” He chuckled to himself, seeing the way Gale’s jaw tightened. “Oh, don’t worry, love. She’s all yours.”

The slamming of the door to the tower left Gale and Tav in a heavy silence. He was hurt, ready to fight, but he wanted to take his time first, draw the truth from her until she was begging for his forgiveness. “Astarion looked well,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

She sighed, bringing her soft palm to Gale’s dampened face, feeling the moisture cool her hand. Ignoring the tension was impossible and so she wanted to diffuse the hate fuelled situation as quickly as she could. “He is… Look, what you saw-”

His mood was quick to falter, too many lonely nights spilling over against his will. “What I saw was someone who I believed was my best friend cavorting with my wife,” he interrupted, twisting away from her touch as if it were a weapon ready to cut. He didn’t want to hear her excuses, her snake tongued deceit, not whilst the image of her body being touched burnt so fresh in his mind.

“Gale, just-”

“No, don’t Gale me,” he spat. “You left. Without any word or explanation, you left.” He wanted to compose himself, to approach this rationally as he did all things, but he couldn’t accept what had happened, and he certainly couldn’t accept any more lies. “I would allow it if you no longer wished to be wed, but these things should be discussed first. Instead, you lied to me, claiming you were on some trip because you lacked the common decency to say you did not love me.”

“I do love you!”

“No.” A flicker of doubt lulled in his voice, a worry that maybe he had been mistaken all along, that his history with Mystra still wormed its way in his skull and he had acted on trauma rather than truth. “I am not some fool you can toy with, Tav. I saw the letters. I know about the spells. How long has it been going on for?”

She looked at him perplexed, trying to work out where his mind had been going the last few weeks. “How long has what been going on?”

Gale scoffed at her ridiculous question, feeling insulted by her continued acting. He paced the room, his boots leaving their dampened marks on the floorboards. “Oh, don’t play dumb with me. The affair!”

Without realising, she let out a laugh, her shoulders relaxing as she finally understood why he was so wound up. “It’s not like that at all. Me and Astarion are friends, you know that.”

The doubt snowballed quickly. They’d been fully clothed, but maybe he had arrived too early rather than late as they claimed. Maybe the journey to Baldur’s Gate had been innocent, but then why had she not contacted him? He stopped his movements and turned to her, taking in her soft smile, the warmth in her eyes he’d memorised on long nights of desire. “Then what is it like? Because right now, all I hear is conjecture.”

Tav took a seat on the sofa, patting to the place next to her closest to the fire. “He was teaching me some massage techniques.”

“And the letters? The trip?” Gale didn’t want to take her offer close to her, afraid that it might lure him in to a false sense of security. He was torn between believing her as he always had done and pulling away to save himself from further harm.

“Was meant to be a surprise for you, which is why I didn’t contact you. Come, sit down and I’ll explain,” she replied, her tone calming. She waited for him to be next to her, gently placing her hands on the ties of his shirt to remove it. “You’re soaked.”

“And you’re avoiding the subject…”

The loose cotton shirt came off and was thrown aside, the warmth of the fireplace hitting his flesh welcomely. She traced her finger up the centre of his chest, seeing as small, deserted raindrops collected on her nail. “Astarion has been helping me. I wrote to him asking for advice.”

Gale sighed at her touch, his body reacting despite his emotions. Usually he took charge, led the dance, orchestrated the symphony, but he was tired, longing for her touch after so many nights apart. “It went amiss to discuss matters with your husband?”

“It was advice regarding my husband.”

Heated kisses were placed on the cool skin of his neck. He leant back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under her lips, a path of love and devotion being marked upon his body. “And what is so problematic about me that you must hide it?” He gasped as he felt the flick of her tongue against his nipple, a technique she had never used before, but one he found himself responded to strongly.

A devious playfulness filled her eyes at his reaction, observing the way he relaxed into her touch, the way his head hung back and his wet hair fell behind him, allowing droplets to descend to the floor without obstruction. “I want to make you happy.”

The words caught him off guard and he glanced up, seeing the way she gazed up at him, her tongue travelling lazily up to the middle of his chest, collecting the moisture. He took a deep breath with the sight, resisting taking control, trying to remain grounded to hear the truth. “You do make me happy.”

Her tongue reached his other nipple, a quick flick causing his head to fall back with the pleasure yet again. The quickening of his breathing provoked her to do it again, the writhe of his body with the stimulus too much to stay still. She’d always suspected he would be sensitive in such areas, but never understood what it would take to get such neediness from him. Not until now. “Not in the same way you do me.”

She pulled herself back, satisfied with the state he was in. “Me and Astarion took a trip to Sharess’ Caress,” she continued, shrugging off the black fabric of her own clothes from her shoulders, her bare breasts visible in the dim light of the fireplace. “He showed me how I could complete you in the same way you do me.”

Gale responded to the words by sharply sitting up with a confused but offended look on his face. “You spent the night with him?”

Shaking her head with a subtle smile, she placed a palm on his chest, pushing him gently to lie back down. “No. Just like you did so many moons ago, I simply watched.” Her fingertips trailed down the centre of his stomach as he reclined back and as they reached the hem of his trousers, she continued speaking, seeing as he calmed if a little unsure of her actions. “He spent the night pleasuring the young Drow there, demonstrating to me the various areas of which he was skilled.”

Tav’s hand slipped into Gale’s trousers, and he let out a held breath. Her touch was featherlight, not the inexperienced gasping he’d once tried to talk her through. Now it was a light stroking, a twist around the shaft that made him want to jolt further into her palm. Just as he would get used to the rhythm and feel the precipice approaching, she would change gears, her grip becoming firmer, the pace quickened.

“You see, too many nights have you have made me see stars,” she purred, watching as his hand clutched the shadow touched fabric of the chair, the way he bit his lower lip at the sight of her naked breasts. “And I know you’d be okay to continue doing that. But I wanted to be more, to give you more. You deserve more.”

He felt as her other hand pulled at his trousers, forcing him to lift his hips so they could be removed. He quickly brought his arm up, taking her breast in his hand and bringing his mouth towards to the hardened pink flesh. Before he could suck on it deeply, she pressed him back yet again.

“Ah ah. Not tonight.”

Gale kept his hand firm on her chest, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin. He wanted to continue playing, wanted to do as he always did and devote himself fully to her, but curiosity got the better of him. What had she learnt from her little adventure to the Keep? It was as he let go on his control, feeling the warm pressure of her mouth around his cock, that he knew.

Gone was the innocent woman he had married, and now before him was a mistress of seduction. Her soft moans as he attempted not to buck upwards filled his senses. She pulled away for a second, soft kisses placed down his shaft, leaving him breathless and needy, her hand taking over with the slight twist at the head.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long to you. You feel so good,” she whispered between the soft placement of her lips.

He could feel himself getting closer, the sway of her breasts no longer in view as he leant back, closing his eyes and panting into each carefully executed movement upon him. The pressure built with the firm wrapping of her lips around his length, her tongue pressed to the underside, forcing him to the back of her mouth. He wanted to rut into her, wanted to lift her and fuck her in front of the fireplace, but with each moan she gave, each pulse of his cock within her, he lost himself further.

He opened his eyes, wordlessly longing for her to remove the rest of her clothing, to lay herself upon him so he could give to her, just as he had so many times before. The gentle rise and fall of her head, her darkened eyes pinned on him, were almost too much and he released a groan of need.

As her soft hand grasped the base of his cock, joining the dance, he knew he was perilously close to his edge. “Tav… I…” Her pressure changed. Words were gone, thoughts were gone. There were only white-hot stars that filled his vision as his release hit, her tongue lapping up his seed whilst still massaging the sensitive flesh it held. He jolted into her, the pleasure continuing without remorse, his nerves on fire as she slowed her pace to extend the ecstasy as long as she could. He may have once had the practiced tongue, but on that night Gale, usually so verbose, was left with only the energy to give a quiet whimper of contentment.

Tav licked and rolled her lips as she sat back, observing what had become of her husband, his skin now moistened with sweat rather than rain, his tongue tied rather than its normal loosened state. Touching his body was met with a shiver, which caused a smug satisfaction to rise on her cheeks.

“Hm. If that’s what happens on just the first night, I wonder what will happen with a thousand more.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #angst before the smut #of course #how could i not?

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estapa-edwards · 7 months ago

Text

"MOMMY?" - Q. HUGHES

paring: Quinn Hughes x fem! reader

word count:2.2k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

There he was, Quinn Hughes, dominating the ice with his incredible skill and agility. Memories of our college days flooded back, bringing a mix of nostalgia and curiosity. It had been years since we'd last seen each other, and seeing him again in this setting was both surprising and overwhelming.

I had always admired Quinn's dedication and passion for the game. Back in college, he was the star player, and it was no surprise to see him excelling in his professional career. But as I glanced at him from my seat in the stands, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. Quinn didn’t know about our son, and I had always intended to keep it that way.

Sitting beside me was Ethan, our 4-year-old son. His bright eyes were fixed on the game, completely engrossed in the action on the ice. I had always known that he had inherited Quinn's love for hockey, but I had done my best to shield him from the truth about his father.

As the game progressed, I couldn't help but steal glances at Quinn. His intensity on the ice was matched only by the determination in his eyes. But what caught my attention the most was the way he occasionally looked at Ethan, a hint of curiosity and recognition in his gaze.

The resemblance between Ethan and Quinn was undeniable. From the shape of their eyes to the curve of their smile, there was no denying the bond they shared. And as the thought crossed my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if Quinn had started to piece together the puzzle.

I felt a pang of guilt as I thought about keeping the truth from him. But I had my reasons, and I believed it was for the best. Our lives had taken different paths since college, and I didn't want to disrupt Quinn's successful career with the revelation of a child he never knew he had.

Throughout the game, I tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, cheering for the Canucks and sharing in Ethan's excitement. But every time I looked at Quinn, the weight of our shared secret hung heavily between us.

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As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, I started to gather my belongings, preparing to leave before Quinn could approach me. But fate had other plans.

"Y/n?" I heard Quinn's voice call out, and my heart skipped a beat.

I turned to see him approaching, his eyes filled with surprise and curiosity. I knew I couldn’t avoid him any longer.

"Quinn, hi," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looked at me with a mixture of excitement and confusion. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said.

"Yeah, it was a last-minute decision to come to the game," I replied, trying to sound casual.

As we exchanged pleasantries, I could sense Quinn's curiosity about Ethan. I knew it was only a matter of time before he started asking questions.

"Mommy?" Ethan tugged at my sleeve, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I looked down at him, trying to hide my anxiety. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Who is he?" Ethan asked, his innocent eyes glancing up at Quinn.

Quinn looked from Ethan to me, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Is this your son, Y/n?"

I hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. I knew I couldn’t avoid the truth any longer.

"Yes, Quinn," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's my son, almost 5 years old."

Quinn paused, his eyes widening as he processed the information. I could see him doing the math in his head, his gaze shifting between Ethan and me.

"Is he mine?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope and uncertainty.

I took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Yes, Quinn, he is."

The weight of the revelation hung heavily between us, the tension palpable. I could see the shock and disbelief in Quinn's eyes, but there was also a glimmer of curiosity and warmth as he looked at Ethan.

"I can't believe you kept this from me, Y/n," Quinn said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

"I know, Quinn," I replied, tears welling up in my eyes."Can we talk somewhere more private?"

Quinn looked at me, his gaze softening slightly. "Yeah, of course," he said, his voice gentler now. "Let's find somewhere quiet to talk."

We quickly made our way out of the bustling stadium, searching for a more secluded spot where we could have a candid conversation. I held Ethan's hand tightly, sensing his confusion and anxiety but also feeling a renewed hope for our future as a family.

We found a quiet corner outside the stadium, away from the prying eyes and curious stares of the crowd. The city lights twinkled in the distance, providing a soft glow as we settled into a more private setting.

Quinn took a deep breath, looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and determination. "I need to know everything, Y/n," he said, his voice firm but caring. "How did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to find the right words to explain the complex situation. "It was during our sophomore year of college," I began, my voice shaky. "We had that one night together, and I found out I was pregnant shortly after. I was scared and overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to tell you. I thought it would be best to handle it on my own."

Quinn looked at me, his eyes filled with regret. "I wish you had told me, Y/n. I would have been there for you."

"I know, Quinn," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I should have told you, but I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of how it would affect your career, and afraid of the unknown. I thought I was protecting Ethan, but I realize now that I was also denying you the chance to know your son."

Quinn reached out, gently wiping away my tears. "It's okay, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with compassion. "We can't change the past, but we can focus on the future and what's best for Ethan."

I looked up at Quinn, feeling a renewed sense of hope and gratitude. "Thank you, Quinn," I said, my voice choked with emotion. "I want you to be a part of Ethan's life, and I know he would love to get to know his father."

Quinn smiled, his eyes shining with tears. "I want that too, Y/n," he said, pulling me into a comforting embrace. "I promise to be there for Ethan and to make up for lost time."I felt a sense of relief wash over me, grateful for Quinn's commitment and willingness to be a part of Ethan's life. As we continued to hold each other, Quinn pulled away slightly, looking down at Ethan who was patiently waiting beside us.

"Do you think I could bring him to meet my parents soon?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

I looked at Ethan, who was looking up at Quinn with curious eyes, and then back at Quinn. "Of course," I replied, a small smile forming on my lips. "I think that would be a wonderful idea. It's important for Ethan to know his grandparents and for them to be a part of his life as well."

Quinn's face lit up with joy, grateful for the opportunity to introduce Ethan to his family. "Thank you, Y/n," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I want them to know about Ethan and to be a part of his life. I want to give him a sense of family and belonging."

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The day had finally arrived for Ethan to meet Quinn's parents and siblings. I was nervous but hopeful, believing that this would be a positive step for our newfound family. Quinn had assured me that his family would be supportive, but the anticipation of the meeting still weighed heavily on my mind.

We arrived at Quinn's parents' house, a beautiful two-story home surrounded by a well-manicured lawn and vibrant garden. Quinn held Ethan's hand tightly, offering reassurance as we approached the front door. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves as Quinn rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Ellen, Quinn's mother, with a warm smile on her face. "Quinn! Y/n!" she exclaimed, pulling us both into a welcoming embrace. "It's so good to see you!"

"Hi, Mom," Quinn greeted, returning the hug. "This is Ethan," he added, gesturing to our son who was standing nervously beside us.

Ellen knelt down to Ethan's level, her eyes filled with kindness. "Hello, Ethan," she said gently. "I've heard so much about you. It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Ethan looked up at Ellen, a shy smile forming on his face. "Nice to meet you too, Grandma," he replied softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Ellen's smile widened as she stood up, inviting us inside. "Come in, come in," she said warmly. "Everyone's been looking forward to meeting you."

As we entered the living room, we were greeted by Jim, Quinn's father, who welcomed us with a hearty handshake and a friendly pat on the back. "Quinn, Y/n, it's great to see you," he said, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "And this must be Ethan," he added, kneeling down to Ethan's level. "Welcome to the family, young man."

Ethan smiled, feeling more at ease with Jim's friendly demeanor. "Thank you, Grandpa," he replied, his nervousness starting to fade.

Quinn's siblings, Jack and Luke, soon joined us, offering their own warm greetings and making Ethan feel included and accepted. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and conversation as we all gathered in the living room, getting to know each other and sharing stories and memories.

As the afternoon progressed, I watched Quinn interact with his family, seeing the love and acceptance in their eyes as they welcomed Ethan into their lives. It was a heartwarming sight, and I felt a sense of gratitude and relief knowing that our decision to share this part of our lives with Quinn's family was the right one.

As we prepared to leave, Ellen pulled me aside, her eyes filled with compassion and understanding. "Y/n, I want you to know that we support you and Ethan," she said softly. "We're so grateful to have him in our lives, and we're here for you both."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thanked Ellen for her kindness and support, feeling a renewed sense of hope and optimism for our future as a family.

As we said our goodbyes and left Quinn's parents' house, I felt a profound sense of gratitude and relief. The meeting had been a success, and I knew that we were one step closer to building a united and loving family for Ethan.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Several years had passed since Quinn and I reconnected at that fateful hockey game. Our relationship had blossomed, and we had worked hard to build a strong and loving family for Ethan. The bond between us had grown deeper, and it was clear that we were meant to be together.

One evening, Quinn suggested that we go out for a special dinner to celebrate our anniversary. He had made reservations at a cozy and romantic restaurant overlooking the city skyline. As we sat down at our table, I couldn’t help but notice the nervous excitement in Quinn’s eyes.

Throughout the evening, we reminisced about our journey together, reflecting on the challenges we had overcome and the love we had shared. It was a beautiful and heartfelt conversation, filled with laughter and tears as we celebrated our love and commitment to each other.

As dinner came to an end, Quinn took a deep breath, his eyes filled with emotion as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. My heart skipped a beat as he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring.

"Y/n, these past few years with you have been the happiest of my life," Quinn began, his voice trembling with emotion. "You've given me so much love, support, and happiness, and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, "I love you more than words can express, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you marry me?"

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at Quinn, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. "Yes, Quinn," I whispered, my voice filled with emotion. "I will marry you."

The restaurant erupted in applause as Quinn slipped the ring onto my finger, sealing our commitment to each other and our family. It was a magical and unforgettable moment, filled with love, joy, and the promise of a bright and happy future together.

As we left the restaurant, hand in hand, I felt a profound sense of happiness and contentment. Our journey together had been filled with ups and downs, but through it all, our love had remained strong and unwavering.

#quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #vancouver #vancover canucks

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anika-ann · 2 months ago

Note

made-up fic title: ever so softly

Hello dear 🥰 Thank you so much for participating in the game 😍

Since my brain does refuse to acknolwdge the concept so far, you too get a little drabble-ish thing 🥹 This time only with 600 words, Bucky, and a flavour of angst with hurt/comfort 😇

ever so softly

warnings: mentions of blood and violence, anxiety, sensory issues and hypersensitivity and PTSD A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics

Sometimes, your hands shake.

You’ve got a tender heart, people would say; a codename for those who get overwhelmed with the world, with people, with the noise and smells and strange textures and tastes, with emotions; with anxiety.

Your own body, your own damn brain was often your worst enemy. You were your worst enemy and you hated it with passion, especially on days when you somehow had no energy left but for that and spiralling down the void of terror made of your own synapses.

On days like these, like on every other, Bucky holds you, whispering soft words of solace and encouragement into your hair, tender lips and gentle voice, creating a protective bubble of silence and peace, tucked safe and far away from the world.

On days like these, he embraces you closely – unless you cannot bear his love for the moment, despising yourself for it all the more – and helps you put together the pieces of your tender soul you feel have imploded inside of you and suffocate you with every attempt of breath.

He sooths you and promises – begs, in truth – to keep you. Loving you,

ever so softly,

reminding you that you can choose and do the same and until you do, he will. For both of you.

And on some days, you do too.

Sometimes, Bucky’s hands shake.

It is a funny little glitch, he supposes, once he has the capacity to be sardonic with himself, which is always; his metal hand, science perfected, precious chunk of vibranium crafted to faultless functionality on engineerism, and it trembles as much as his flesh hand.

Bucky Barnes is an old man; a reborn man, haunted by an army of ghosts and undead. Doctors in his old days called it shellshock; the fancy modern name for it is PTSD.

Some days, images of blood, violence and death run on the silver screen of his mind like the most messed-up horror flick, following him through day and seeping into his nights, sleepless; or worst, consumed by nightmares than never end, because they are memories of his own actions.

His soul weighs too much to bear, drenched with blood and guilt that no penance can wash away.

Sometimes, you help with the cleanse despite it.

You take his shaking hands – sometimes his very own, sometimes the glorified invention attached to his body – and lead him to the living room where on the shelves stand his little treasures; one supposedly beautiful thing next to another, small wooden statues he had carved himself, rough around the edges but otherwise delicate, a reflection of his gentle torn soul. You do not speak a word, you do no point, letting him see what you see. To make him see that what he only perceives as a pair of hands soaked in blood and wrongdoings, had made good and beautiful too.

And even in the dead of night, you walk him to the most special room of the house, of your home, his steps hesitant, but his heart too weak to resist. Helpless and already yearning, he can never say no.

In those no longer trembling hands, you gently place the most precious thing he has had a generous hand in creating, with utmost love.

Tears burning in his eyes, he cradles your baby, his baby, to his chest with one arm, his other curling around you, pressing you to his side, lips attached to your temple. You linger in your embrace until his tears of grief and guilt turn into ones of acceptance and happiness.

Because he loves and he is loved,

ever so softly

and every beat of his heart, your heart and his child’s, promise him that despite all the pain, everything will be okay.

I hope you enjoyed the little angst but with a sweet note in the end for a change🥰

Thank you for reading and @murdock-and-the-sea for sending 💕

#reply #asks #anika replies #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #ever so softly #anika ann #anika writes

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poisonlove · 1 year ago

Text

A macchiato, please | j.o

part 1

I'm finally home, wrapped in the familiar atmosphere only my apartment can provide. Tex, my affectionate German Shepherd, is my sole company at the moment.

"Hello, sweetheart," I whisper gently, bending down to pet his head as his tail wags happily, displaying pure joy.

"I know... you're hungry," I confirm with a resigned sigh, heading to the kitchen. I open a can of dog food and mix it carefully with the kibbles.

"Enjoy your meal!" I add with a shy smile as Tex starts to happily devour his food.

I toss the keys onto the table.

I was so tired that I decided to skip my usual nightly routine and went straight to bed. I fall onto the soft mattress, exhausted from the long day.

As I turn on my phone, the screen greets me with a notification that seems like a dream.

Jennaortega has started following you.

A thrill of excitement rushes through me.

"I can't believe it," I whisper to myself with a small smile, feeling as if I've won the lottery of luck.

Curious to know more about her, I access her profile, smiling at her beautiful close-up picture. Her bright, happy eyes convey an infectious vitality.

"Wow, 40 million followers," I thought incredulously. It was like stepping into a whole new world, filled with enthusiastic followers.

I smile as I see numerous comments filled with love and support for Jenna, carefully observing her latest post: she was inside a car, wearing headphones. An involuntary sigh escapes my lips; her brown eyes seem to gaze at me as if wanting to read my soul. Her slightly parted lips, her perfectly falling bangs... her posture so natural by the window told a story of freedom and carefreeness.

I follow her back.

With shyness and anxiety, I open the chat and look at Jenna Ortega's profile picture. "You can do this... just say hi," I murmur to myself, trying to muster some courage.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed the place I manage to write, my fingers trembling slightly. I send the message, feeling my heart race. I exit the chat, letting the adrenaline rush through my veins.

I wait anxiously, heart in my mouth, hoping for a response.

The minutes seem endless as the chat remains on standby. Then, suddenly, the phone emits a sound, indicating a new incoming message. The lit screen shows the name Jenna Ortega and a short but kind message: Hi! Yes, I really enjoyed the place, the atmosphere was truly cozy. Thanks!

A spontaneous smile spreads across my face. Is there something you're particularly passionate about? I write, hoping to make the conversation deeper and more interesting.

Jenna's response comes quickly: Mmmh... why this random question?

I nervously bite my lower lip. I don't know, I'd love to know something about you that the internet can't tell me I write honestly.

I involuntarily smile as Jenna puts a heart on my message. "In that case... I love art and culture, so I enjoy visiting museums and art galleries. And also nature, taking long walks in parks."

I feel an immediate connection, as I also loved long walks, especially with Tex, my loyal four-legged companion.

I decide to share this detail:

I also love taking long walks, especially with Tex, my German Shepherd. He's my faithful adventure companion!

Jenna seems to like the bond with the four-legged friend, and the conversation continues on this topic. We've found a common ground that makes the conversation more authentic and enjoyable.

How about we have a call? she suddenly asks.

I feel a thrill of excitement at the opportunity to hear her voice and get to know each other better.

I reply: I'd love to.

A few seconds later, Jenna's profile picture, a white light, appears.

I swallow and, sighing, I accept the call.

"Hey!" My voice trembles slightly, nervous.

Jenna softly laughs, making my heart beat uncontrollably.

"Hello," Jenna responds.

I can sense the smile she's wearing.

"How are you?" I ask and close my eyes at such a basic question.

"Good... just a bit tired," she comments shyly, letting out a small yawn.

My eyes glance at the alarm clock next to my bed, seeing that it's only 10:08 PM.

"Maybe... we talk tomorrow?" I ask worriedly, biting my lower lip.

My heart hammers rapidly in my chest.

"No... I enjoy talking to you," she confesses, and my cheeks flush.

I sigh in relief knowing she couldn't see my blush and smile widely, almost feeling a pain in my cheeks.

"Oh, well... I can say the same," I reply.

Jenna gently laughs, making me smile even more.

"Do you have any interviews tomorrow? Or have the recordings already started?" I ask curiously.

"Mmmh," Jenna murmurs, thoughtful, "I think we're meeting with Tim," she says almost hesitantly.

"Right, it's not certain they're shooting here," I murmur almost sadly.

"I have no idea... but it's very likely," she admits weakly.

An not uncomfortable silence envelops us.

"And tell me... you said you'd be meeting. Who's with you?" I ask with curiosity, clutching the sheets out of nervousness.

"Oh... let me think," Jenna murmurs, "I believe it's Percy and Emma," she admits.

"Emma?" I ask excitedly. "Enid?" I ask with a smile on my face.

"Yes..." she laughs softly at my enthusiasm.

"Do you know I ship them in Wednesday ?" I say excitedly. "Enid and wdenesday are so close and adorable!" I exclaim happily.

Jenna bursts into laughter.

"Maybe it'll be canon... who knows," she says in a sing-song tone.

"Come to think of it..." she begins. "Maybe one day I could introduce you to the cast," she proposes, and I open my mouth in surprise.

"You're not joking... really?" I ask, and she gently laughs at my excitement.

"Seriously, let's say it's a way to pay you back for the coffee," she murmurs, yawning.

My excitement grows as I talk about my passions, the books I love to read, and the places I like to visit in the city. But then, I notice Jenna murmuring timidly, almost incomprehensibly, not responding.

"Jenna, everything okay?" I ask worriedly, sensing something off in the air.

"Mmmh," Jenna responds even more timidly, as if wanting to hide something.

"Did you see the new movie talk to me?" I ask absentmindedly, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood. "It was strange... I feel sorry for the guy, his face got messed up... but the ending... wow," I murmur absentmindedly, hoping to liven up the conversation.

I notice Jenna getting quieter and quieter, and worry grows inside me. "Am I... boring you?" I ask uncertainly, fearing I've made the conversation dull or tiresome for her.

"No," Jenna barely manages to respond, her voice weak and tired.

"I like your voice... keep going..." she affirms with a yawn, trying to encourage me to talk, but it's evident that fatigue is taking over.

Confused, I stutter in my thoughts, "What was I saying?" My mind is a bit foggy, and the fear of having bored her grows.

Jenna's steady breath makes me realize she has fallen asleep. I smile tenderly, knowing it's been a long day for her. Unfortunately, it's clear that tiredness has taken the lead, and I realize it's best to let her rest.

I gaze at the ceiling of my room, smiling.

"Goodnight, Jen," I whisper with a small smile, feeling the breath of the girl on the other end.

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega imagine

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year ago

Text

What Would I Do Without You? (Lewis x Reader)

Hey y’all so I’m slowly getting my groove back and I am very thankful that you guys have been so wonderful and patient with me, this was requested by @jenthustiastic and i must say I switched a few stuff but I hope you can forgive me and still enjoy it.

To be the partner of Lewis Hamilton meant to have a spotlight on you 24/7, eyes like hawks watching and judging every move, however (y/n) had this peculiar ability that made it look like a walk in the park.

From the minute Lewis posted her on Instagram and made it official meant that he had sent the dogs that were ready to tear her down, (y/n) took everything with grace and remained authentic to herself, Lewis was nervous about causing (y/n) pain, he knew that some people were ruthless, he feared that it would get too much for her, she was relatively in the spotlight, being a stylist and all yet this meant she was dipping her toes to another ball game.

(Y/n) never complained nor seemed to be phased by the comments or paparazzi, she was a social butterfly and quickly earned the respect of the fans, especially since she had grown a habit of meeting them and taking their little gifts with them to show Lewis after his race, “the fans princess” is what they called her that had started as a joke and then kind of stuck.

“Where’s the lovely (y/n)?”

Had grown to become a frequent question from the reporters when they got a hold of Lewis, Lewis would always bite his bottom lip and slightly nod before his eyes started to scan the room for the lady.

“I’m here baby!”

“Oh there she is”

(Y/n) did not like to watch the games, it caused her anxiety to see her beloved man sit in a car that went faster than the speed of light, her heart beat like a drum and every sharp turn forced her breath to hitch, she was content with hiding in the crowds and spark conversations with the fans until it was over.

“Don’t you care if I do well?”

“I care if you come back to me in one piece, that is enough for me”

She responded calmly once before she got lost in his arms, their naked chests colliding with one another as her head found its place at the crook of his neck, Lewis giggled as her hair fell on his face, and with his free hand, he caressed the strands away.

(Y/n) was scared, the track had taken men’s lives for the longest and (y/n) who was a massive fan of racing was now linked to her lover which meant that she found the concept similar to torture.

Lewis slowly got used to her routine, after the interviews, they would go to a room, and (y/n) would spend about 30 minutes to an hour just laying with him, well… at least for the majority of the time, (y/n) still blushed at the memory of toto having to knock their door.

“Keep it down! People can hear you!”

He scolded them, Lewis and (y/n) had giggled at the time still when the adrenaline wore off and she had to walk out with smudged makeup and her hair down instead of the tidy ponytail she had walked in with she clung and almost hid behind Lewis until they got to the car.

“We are never doing this again”

“Sure love”

Lewis had responded, knowing well inside that (y/n) was just experiencing the guilt of the moment, Lewis relished that he got to tease parts out of her that she did not know existed.

(Y/n) and Lewis were both fire holders, passion brought them together and the minute one even graced a finger on the other's skin it resembled a match lighting up, the one held the other as close as humanly possible and their eyes would speak the dirty words that they could not publicly even whisper even though Lewis was not one to shy away from leaning against her ear while she giggled after she had a bit too much wine at the dinner table.

“(Y/n)! Hi”

“Can you take this for Lewis?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Can I have a picture?”

“Are you excited?”

Fans stumbled upon one another as (y/n) started to approach them with a grant smile, the Qatar Grand Prix was one of the most challenging among them, Lewis was nervous which caused (y/n) to be a bit wary, so she was always worked, walked up to the fans to take her mind off the track and hopefully time would pass fast.

This time it was different and as soon as her ears got used to the voices everyone went silent then her heart clenched inside her chest, her eyes snapped to where everyone was looking and she was met with a car that looked familiar spin out.

“No”

(Y/n) whispered, this couldn’t be, her hands mashed into fists and thankfully one of the bodyguards that Lewis had hired to keep an eye on her sensed that this would not go well, she had to be taken out of the public grasp.

The man’s arms softly went up to her biceps before he guided her back to the room so she could wait for her love, though her mind would not let her rest and she feared for the worst.

“Is he ok? Do we know if he is ok?”

“Sir Lewis is fine miss, please let us escort you”

(Y/n) complied and the only thing that could be heard were her footsteps until she got inside the room they had told her to wait on, her heels clicking on the floor as she went up and down the room, even if he was alright to be taken out so quickly was not the outcome anyone would have hopped.

The sound of the doorknob twisting forced her to a halt and then before Lewis could walk inside fully (y/n) had thrown herself in his arms, Lewis even if he was taken aback by it and took a step back responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and closing the door behind him.

“You are safe”

“I hope I didn’t scare you a lot”

“No, no, no, I’m fine, I just- what happened?”

“Russel didn’t let me pass him, he took me out”

“Took you out? How?”

“He-“

Lewis stopped himself from getting riled up, he closed his eyes to take a sharp inhale through the nose and then slowly let it out from his mouth, his grip semi-loosened on her and his one hand went up to take the hair out of her face that were misplaced from the force of her running into him full force.

“It doesn’t matter”

“yes it does, talk to me”

A smile appeared on his lips, he took her by her hand and directed her to the couch, (y/n) had always been a person to show love via physical touch, so when she straddled him Lewis did not think of it even for a second, (y/n) placed her cheek on his shoulder and Lewis thought it would be better if he leaned back so he was propped up with the support of the couch.

“It was the first round, I went to get the lead from the side, and then… I was out because Rusell-“

“I’m going to ask you this… are you sure it was his fault?”

“Yes, he should have let me through”

“What if he couldn’t? First rounds are crowded baby, perhaps he didn’t mean it”

“I am-“

“Unharmed, and you have already proved yourself and how skilled you are, Russel is young and your teammate”

“So that gives him immunity into doing whatever?”

“He drove himself into a wall if you recall, remember how embarrassed and disappointed he was?”

“Yes when only you came to see me on the paddock because everyone was consoling him”

(Y/n) lifted her head to be able to look him straight in the eyes, Lewis was feeling threatened, Russell had potential and he was breathing down Lewis's neck, she could detect the certain sense of failure in his chocolate hues.

Lewis scoffed as he lifted her as gently as possible so he could stand up and away from her, Lewis had years of experience on his back, yet when it came to (y/n) he felt powerless, she hadn’t even tried hard enough and he had revealed everything to her.

(Y/n) only followed him and slightly tugged at his hand so he could turn to face her again, a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips after she raised her hand to caress his cheek, Lewis exhaled as his shoulders relaxed once her warm flesh covered his.

“You can’t hide from me, you know better than that”

“I wanted to do well alright, is that so bad?”

“No, that is healthy, but we both know you can get competitive sometimes, give him some grace, you were in his shoes once”

“You should be on my side”

“You did not ask me to be yours because I was a kiss ass”

“No, smart mouth”

“All that I’m saying is that I care that you are here with me, however, it would not be right if I sat here and caress your pride and let you be wrong, is that what you want?”

“No”

“Good”

(Y/n) placed a sweet kiss on his lips that escalated into a butterfly one, her arms snaked around Lewis’s neck while he slid down from her waist and grabbed onto her tightly.

A playful giggle was heard by her before she pulled away a few inches so she could wipe the grace of lip gloss she had left on his lips with her thumb.

“Naughty boy”

“Always”

“No, we are not doing this it’s too damn hot in here”

“We will blast the air condition in the car after”

“I am not sweating out this makeup Hamilton and you have some making-up to do”

“Now?”

“Well I am assuming he is still racing but yes, we will wait together and you will own your mistakes”

“Must you always go against me?”

“Must you always be so difficult?”

Lewis kissed his teeth at her comeback, (y/n) had become Lewis’s lighthouse at a fast pace, she was a person he would seek every time something would not sit right with him, her hug, her wisdom, her smile of reassurance, her addicting scent as she wrapped herself around him at night.

Something about her soothed him to the core to the point that he could not rest well if she was not laying next to him(y/n) was his second in command and he secretly admired her calm attitude.

Lewis would often think about the times (y/n) would reminisce over her past self, how she was hot-tempered and argumentative, she had confessed that it was a facade she had created like an alter ego to protect her true colors, and there had been a few moments that he had witnessed her eyes glistening with anger, her slick tongue, it was usually when she felt threatened or people crossed someone she loved.

“What would I do without you?”

“Just argue with people for no reason I presume”

“You are being mean”

“Would you rather I lie to you?”

Lewis's smile brightened the room and his face and (y/n) pulled him for a tight embrace, she wondered if there was any way she could get even closer to him like the water of the ocean sank in the sand after a wave, his heartbeat was the most melodic sound for her ears, well, after his voice of course.

(Y/n) had always been a dreamer, from a young age she had filled her heart with hope to find her soulmate, someone to share her light and darkness, that one person that would feel like her fuzzy blanket, friends called her delusional and precious relationships called her suffocating and emotional, Lewis relished it, the small little details that showed how grand her soul and love was.

“There will be other races”

“I know”

“Do you want to speak on this some more”

“Not really”

“Alright, let’s go find George and then we can have a nice bubble bath, perhaps some lavender oil will help”

“Oh I love it when you talk essential oils to me”

Requests are open!

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joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago

Text

The Key To Your Heart - Track 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif creds to @bestintheparsec

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.5K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Sorry this took so long. Work :( But I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :) Thanks for reading!

-Pedro's POV-

The warmth of the midday sun beamed through the window as Pedro glanced nervously at his watch. 12:55PM. Finally, he grabbed his laptop and lay down on his couch with a soft *flump*. He quickly typed in "The Jazz and AllyKat show" into the search engine and opened up the website for your interview, just in time for it to begin broadcasting live. He knew you wouldn't be visible, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been waiting anxiously since they announced it two days ago.

He was interested in hearing more about you. Hearing your voice speaking instead of just singing. Hearing the passion and levels of expression you may portray. Do you have an accent? A high or low voice? A lisp or a stutter? A rasp? You were such a mystery to him and the world, yet your shared conversation over Instagram the other day was so heartfelt. He appreciated your candor and vulnerability, especially in show business.

He couldn't figure out why… but ever since he heard your song, he couldn't stop thinking about you. There was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He was impressed with your lyrics and swooned at your voice. That voice! But with everyone contemplating who you were and who you liked, Pedro didn't want to be another one of those people, making you feel pressured. But he was certainly curious.

The video began and he listened intently, not wanting to miss a single word. When your voice chirped a hello to the interviewers and listeners, his heart skipped a beat. He swore it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He was drawn to you and wanted to learn anything he could, so he listened, trying to keep his breathing as silent as possible to not miss it. Why am I feeling like this? We've only had one conversation. Why am I so drawn to her, especially when she's already in love with someone?… he interrogated himself.

The interview discussed your favorite color, animals, and books, which Pedro vowed to read as soon as he could get to a bookstore. You listed off your favorite films and shows. However, although you had a great taste in cinema, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that none of his roles were on your list. Clearly it's not you she loves, so you can put that out of your head now. He should feel relief, but instead he feels hollow at that realization.

When asked who your best friend is, you gush about your guy bff. You talk about how much you love him. How cute and sweet he is. Pedro can't help but feel a bit jealous of this guy who you love so much. But he listens on, his heart perking up and bubbling over when he hears you finally explain that your best friend is your dog.

Not only does she have a dog, but he's her best friend. And the way she talks about him is so…adorable, he thinks, gushing over your shared love of the fuzzy animals. He wonders what your dog's name and breed is, but you refuse to answer that question from the interviewers, for fear that someone may recognize his name and breed, tying him to you. The interviewers make a joke on your paranoia, which you ignore and Pedro scoffs at, their lack of understanding poking a protective instinct inside of him.

The conversation suddenly rolls into celebrity crushes and his chest tightens. But before they can ask you, he hears the air horn signaling the amount of viewers. Although he's disappointed to miss the potential answer you may have given, he also feels that strange protective feeling over you again, making him feel annoyed at the interviewers, knowing your desire for privacy. His thoughts only shift into a possessive manner for a millisecond before Ally proposes the possibility of your crush potentially listening to the show. His heart and emotions are on a bumpy roller coaster and he's practically jittery at the anticipation. He's leaning in to hear your answer when the door to his house barges open and a frustrated Oscar Isaac walks in, complaining in Spanish.

Startled, Pedro slams his laptop closed and flings it towards the coffee table, nearly spilling his drink. He yells questioningly, wondering why his best friend is barging into his home unannounced. Oscar is fully in the living room now, hands on his hips and ready to rant again. But before he has a chance to continue his argument with Pedro, he squints. His eyes look to the laptop, then to Pedro, now standing and looking frazzled after jolting up from the seat. He looks at Pedro's face again, eyebrow raised questioningly, and points to the laptop. "Were you watching porn?"

Pedro is dumbfounded, and if he wasn't on such high alert, he would've thought to lie and say he was watching porn. Instead he blurts "NO, I was not watching porn." It sounded like a lie. Oscar looks again from the laptop to Pedro, noticing his flushed cheeks and giving him a once over from head to toe, looking for any tells, other than the blush and the panic. "Yeah right, you slut. Let's see then."

Oscar reaches for the laptop, and Pedro grasps for it too, just a second behind. Too slow. Pedro argues "I wasn't. Not that it should matter, seeing as I'm in my own HOME… alone. Or should I say previously alone." Pedro throws his hands up in frustration. Oscar just laughs. "Okay let's see what you're so interested in then, that you don't even hear me knocking on your door or trying to contact you." He cracks open the computer.

"You're watching…an interview?" Oscar looks at Pedro, confused at why he would be so wigged out over a talk show. "I told you," Pedro replies, pointedly. Oscar glances back at the computer again, his brow suddenly relaxing and his lips turning into a mischievous smirk. "Ohh. I see… This is that girl you defended in your interview, huh? Someone got a little crush?"

Pedro rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying to push away the warmth grazing his cheeks. "No. I don't have a crush. I was just looking for something to do and saw it pop up on my page…" Pedro rambled on, "plus it's just curious how much she's keeping a secret, you know? Everyone is wondering about these things." Oscar listened, amused, and Pedro continued. Please stop talking, Pedro thought to himself. "Plus I don't even know her. A crush? That's ridiculous."

"She doesn't know that guy in her song either and she managed a crush… and you defended it," Oscar said matter-of-factly. Pedro rolled his eyes, and Oscar continued. "Are you hoping her crush is on you?"

Pedro sputtered out a quick answer. "Please. She sounds young... it's probably on someone like Harry Styles. Why would she have interest in an old man like me?" Oscar patted Pedro's shoulder. "You're too hard on yourself." Pedro ignored him and continued, "plus you know how I feel about relationships."

"Yeah yeah…" Oscar continued in a mocking tone, hand pretending to be a sock puppet while he recited, "I don't have the time to properly grow a relationship, I don't want to get hurt, I'm focusing on my career…" Pedro ignored his mocking tone and simply agreed with the recitation. "Yes… now… Why did you feel the need to barge in here unexpectedly?"

"It wouldn't have been unexpected had you checked your messages. I texted you four times and even messaged your Instagram when I didn't get a reply," Oscar defended.

"You know I'm not a texter," Pedro disputes.

"Yeah, no shit, abuelito. How many messages are unread on your phone? 600?" Oscar banters.

Pedro hastily defended himself. "No! I call them back! And abuelito!? Really?" He tuts. "You're not far behind me, pendejo. Plus you know I never check my Instagram messages either. I hardly even log on. You should've called me instead."

"I did. Twice. Anyway, I wanted to see if you were still available to watch the kids later. Buuuut, after not hearing back, I just decided to check on you. Glad to see you're alive, and clearly just distracted." Oscar wiggles his eyebrows.

Pedro crosses his arms, ignoring Oscar's last remark. "Yes, of course I'll watch the kids. Go enjoy yourselves!"

"Thanks P. You're the best… and I know I'm picking on you, but I just want you to be happy. I think if you like this girl you should try and talk to her. Dust off the cobwebs of your Instagram and actually message her or something."

I already have… Pedro thinks, running his thumb across his bottom lip. "Thanks, man."

Oscar left with a friendly pat on Pedro's shoulder. "See you later tonight then with the kids!"

Upon closing the door, Pedro sped over to his laptop again, hopeful that your interview hadn't ended yet. Fortunately for him, it was still recording. He hoped he hadn't missed anything.

The interviewer named Ally spoke. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Pedro's heart pounded so loud he feared he would miss your answer. If she says yes… his mind entertains, not knowing the answer to the rest of that thought.

You spoke, hesitantly, and he felt the protective urge creep over him again. He wanted to know the answer but he hated hearing you uncomfortable . "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.

The interviewers replied excitedly. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

There's a long pause. The silence is deafening, apart from the booming timpani of Pedro's heartbeat.

You answered, so softly he almost missed it. "Yes. We've talked."

He stopped breathing.

"Did you tell him it was him? Did you admit you love him?"

"Absolutely not. It was just a nice conversation," you laughed.

We had a nice conversation…

"Will you tell us who he is? At least a description? An initial?" Jazzy asked, desperate for answers.

Ally chimed in "anything! We're starving here."

You giggled before answering. The most beautiful laugh he's ever heard. "I won't do that much, but I will say… he has brown curly hair... Gorgeous brown eyes… And he seems really funny and nice."

I have curly brown hair and brown eyes.. maybe it could be me, his heart offered the idea. I try my best to be funny and nice too.

It could also be Tom Holland. Or Dylan O'Brien. Or some other young actor, his self-doubt chimes in. But he also knew based on your eye color descriptor, that it wasn't Harry Styles, shutting down his earlier guess.

Ally lets out a huff. "That's a pretty broad answer but I guess it narrows out a few people.."

"Well we have another surprise. A way to narrow it down a little more…" Jazz proposes.

"Oh? What's that?" You replied. Pedro could hear the nervousness in your tone.

Jazz continued "I asked our tech to work his magic, and he managed to pull a list of our viewers during the highest number of people tuning in…"

Pedro's heart picked up speed.

"Then, since he's so good at working a computer, he was able to filter it further, running the names through the web and pulling out any celebrities. We have a list here and all you have to do is read through and say if he's on the list of viewers. The only ones who would know are the three of us. Of course if he's watching, he will also know if he's in the running or not."

You stuttered out, "o-okay.."

There was a long pause on your end while you read, and Jazz and Ally filled in the space with chatter.

Pedro sat, waiting nervously for your answer.

"Uhm… no. None of these names.." you finally answered.

His heart sank. It wasn't him. You didn't love him.

"That's disappointing," Ally answered. "I had really hoped he was listening. I'm sorry. I thought when we filtered through the viewers with our celebrity listener filter, we'd have some luck."

"It's okay.. he's probably busy or something.." you answered, though your disappointment was hard to hide. "Maybe he will listen later when he has time."

Pedro was logged in on his account. His name would've been on that list, and you just confirmed, without calling him out personally, that he wasn't the one you loved.

The interview soon ended and he closed his laptop with a sigh, flopping back onto his couch. He had hoped to message you and tell you he watched the video. But now he didn't see the point in it. You already knew he watched it, and you probably didn't care. He closed his eyes and eventually decided to try and ignore his feelings. You don't even know her. Don't be stupid. It's just a crush.. a stupid, hopeless crush..

Looking out the window, Pedro noticed the sun setting outside and glanced at the clock on his stove. Realizing Oscar would be back soon with the kids, he decided he needed to snap out of it. Put on a happy face before babysitting duty. He began straightening up the house and getting things ready before finally turning on a cartoon movie just in time for them to arrive.

Oscar greeted him, and sat the kids in front of the movie. He knew his friend well enough to see through his smile and know he was upset about something. But he also could tell Pedro needed some space to sort things out in his mind first before he was ready to talk. So he left the kids with a profuse thank you, and headed out the door, leaving Pedro alone with his thoughts and two small bundles of energy.

Unbeknownst to Pedro, you looked through the list of celebrity viewers, scanning for his name. But thanks to his friend's intrusion, at the time that they filtered the list, he was disconnected from the live video. He wasn't on the list you saw.

Kept busy with the kids, it wasn't until they were back home with their parents that Pedro was forced to think about his feelings. Maybe he would still message you either way. You probably needed more friends and allies in this business, and he did enjoy talking to you, even if he wasn't the one you loved. If you didn't want to form a friendship with him back, that was fine too. But he would try. Still, his disappointment was settling in his heart. He didn't realize how much he was starting to care about you until you said he wasn't on that list.

So with the shared belief that neither of you cared about one another, you both went to bed, you both felt heavy in your hearts, and you both couldn't help but feel light tears spilling onto your cheeks as sleep eventually took over.

Equally unknown to you, he was watching, and he planned to watch it again when the video was posted, just to hear you talk a little bit longer. Just to learn more about you. Learn the tiny personality quirks he could pick out from your voice. Things that make you who you are, until maybe he could meet you in person.

That's all for this chapter!! Thank you again for reading and let me know what you think.

Looking for the next chapter? Here!

Taglist: (Let me know if you want in!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal rpf #a! wrote a fic #rpf #key to your heart

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whitedarkmoonflower · 1 year ago

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I loved your story with Sihtric. I wanted to ask if you have time if you could write Sihtrics wife being taken by Hestan in season 3, and she gives birth to twins while she is with them. Then Hestan sees Uthred and threatens that he has Sihtrics family, but of course, Sihtric gets his family back.

Kidnapped Part 1

Sihtric x reader

Authors note: dear Anon, sorry that it took me a while to start writing. As it happens so often with me the story just took hold on me and kept going. It was starting to get a bit long, so I decided to divide it and post at least the first part, that is completely ready, before I figure out how Sihtric will get his family back.

Warnings: nothing really serious, bit of angst to lose your dear ones, use of alcohol in distress

Word Count: 2,515

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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“I am going to find my wife,” Sihtric's face lit up in a warm smile as he spoke to Finan, clutching some flowers in his hands. He hadn’t seen you for months. He could still vividly recall the day he left and how excited he was finally to be heading for a battle after years of peaceful living. He loved you with all his heart, but he was a warrior and had longed for some adventure. He had never expected it to turn into a nightmarish ordeal, with Skade emerging in Uhtred’s life and swiftly turning it upside down in the blink of an eye.

Now that the witch was dead and you all were back in Winchester life seemingly returning to its normal flow, he found himself consumed with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms, and to tenderly kiss your swollen belly, knowing that you carried his child. The sheer joy that had overwhelmed him when you had shared the news just before his departure was beyond words. He had kissed you passionately, spinning you around like a madman, laughter bubbling forth from his very core. In that moment, he had wished he could stay by your side, but there was no other choice. Now almost eight months later you were likely nearing the end of your pregnancy. You were carrying his child – the full weight and meaning of this still hadn't fully settled within Sihtric’s mind as he hadn't quite had a chance to fully comprehend it amidst the chaos and battles that had unfolded.

Finan’s infelicitous attempt to mock Sihtric, left him unfazed as he merely smirked at his friend, refusing to engage in further discussion. With a determined expression, Sihtric turned away, hastening his steps towards home. Home – it was a word that made Sihtric’s heart skip a beat and warm up each time he thought about it, keeping him going even in the most desperate circumstances. It represented a dream come true, a place where he belonged and a family to return to. Something he could barely imagine just not so long ago.

His steps quickened as he approached the familiar street, his anticipation building as the house he had bought for both of you came into view. Eagerly, he rushed to the door, knocking with expectation. To his surprise, there was no response. He knocked again, straining to hear any signs of life behind the closed doors. However, the only response he received was an eerie silence that hung in the air. With a mix of anxiety and a racing heart, Sihtric gently pushed the door, causing it to creak open. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he stepped into the cold and desolate house. His eyes scanned the surroundings, revealing dust-covered furniture and cobwebs that had claimed the corners of the room. Sihtric's entire world shattered into countless shards. The house stood empty, abandoned for quite some time. You were not there, and he didn’t have the slightest idea what could have happened or where you could have gone. His hands dropped to his sides, letting go of the flowers he had been clutching. They twirled to the floor. Sihtric turned on his heels and sprinted towards the marketplace, desperately hoping to find Finan still there.

“Finan,” Sihtric called out, rushing towards his friend, and grasping his arm. “She’s gone. The house is empty. She’s gone.” Finan grinned, as his initial instinct was to offer another joke, but the sheer despair in Sihtric’s voice, the anxiety etched across his wide eyes, silenced any attempts at humour. Finan choked back his words and almost bit his tongue, realizing that now was not the time for jesting.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Finan wanted to be certain, “Could it be that she is out running errands?”

“No, you don’t understand, Finan.” Sihtric responded urgently, his words tumbling out in a rush. “She’s truly gone. Nobody has lived in the house for a while already. Finan, we have to find her. I have to find her. I never should have left in the first place,” Sihtric's desperation drove him forward, simultaneously pulling Finan towards the stables.

“Hold on, just wait a moment,” Finan tried to stop his friend’s frantic movements, to hold him, “Wait, stop!” he finally yelled at Sihtric, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking with all his strength.

“Where do you think you are going? Do you honestly believe you’ll find her by aimless riding around with no idea where to even begin searching?” Finan tried to put some sense back in his friends dazed mind. Sihtric struggled to break free from Finan's grasp, but Finan refused to let go. They were nearly wrestling now, when Osferth and Uhtred came running towards them. Not understanding what's going on they stepped between the two friends, trying to pull them apart.

“What’s going on?” Uhtred yelled, holding onto Sihtric tightly.

“Sihtric’s wife is missing,” Finan explained, as Sihtric continued to struggle, unable to articulate his thoughts, his despair evident. It took considerable effort and strength to restrain Sihtric, until he finally ceased his resistance, leaning his forehead against Uhtred's shoulder.

“She is pregnant, Uhtred. She carries my child, and I have no idea where she is or what has happened,” Sihtric whispered, his voice filled with anguish, as Uhtred placed a comforting hand on his friends’ shoulder.

“Sihtric, calm down. First, we need to find out what has happened. Does she have any family? Is it possible that she sought some assistance from her family or friends? Being pregnant and alone can be incredibly challenging. There might be an innocent explanation for her absence,” Uhtred suggested, nodding to Finan and Osferth, who instantly understood what he meant and turned around to disappear in the jungle of the narrow streets, searching for anyone who might have information.

While Finan and Osferth scoured the neighborhood, Uhtred accompanied Sihtric to the tavern. Sihtric slumped heavily onto a chair, his hands supporting his head, not even noticing the ale jug Uhtred had brought him. After an hour or two, Finan and Osferth returned with news.

"We have both good news and bad news," Finan began. “The elderly widow living next to you told us that the pregnancy was not easy. She felt sick very often and couldn’t eat as she was constantly throwing up. About a month ago, she apparently decided to go to her sister, as it was too hard for her to cope alone.”

“The bad news is that her sister came for a visit a week ago looking for her as she had never arrived at her place,” Osferth added.

Sihtric remained seated, his hands buried in his hair, supporting his bowed head. He had heard what his friends told him, but he was simply unable to grasp it. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse racing with an agonizing mix of fear and desperation. His mind spun with unanswered questions, each one a dagger stabbing at his already fragile state of mind.

Memories of your last moments together flooded his thoughts, taunting him with images of your laughter, your shared dreams, and the promise he had made to you, to come back as soon as possible. Without you, the world felt vast and empty for him, devoid of any meaning.

Sihtric felt tears welling up in his eyes and blurring his vision. Helplessness surged within him, a suffocating sensation that threatened to consume him. Taking a deep breath, Sihtric shook his head and wiped away the tears before anyone could notice. He could not imagine a life without you; there was no alternative. He had to find you.

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

It felt like an eternity, but in reality, only two months had passed since your fateful encounter with Heasten on your way to your sister’s place. You had delayed your departure, hoping to wait for Sihtric, but as time went on, it became increasingly difficult. Your belly had grown so big, that even dressing yourself had become a challenge. It was obvious you needed help. With no news from Sihtric in over half a year already, you were faced with the truth that either you were going now on your own or you would never manage it and would be left alone for the childbirth. You had enough money to hire a wagon and a coachman and luckily it was not far you had to travel. Your sister along with her husband and their three children, lived just two days’ journey away from Winchester in a small village near the river.

On the second day of your travels, you noticed a few riders observing you from the nearby hills, but before you could start worrying, they withdrew, and everything seemed to be fine. However, your sense of security was short-lived as a group of warriors abruptly appeared on the road ahead. There was no possibility of escape with a wagon, so your coachman halted, awaiting their approach.

"What cargo do you carry?" a rough voice, tinged with a distinct Danish accent, inquired.

"We are not traders, my lord," you responded, opening the flaps of the wagon's tent. “I am simply travelling to my sister for the childbirth.” Your pronounced pregnancy was on full display, as you hoped it would dissuade the riders from causing harm. You looked at the man, who had spoken and your heart froze in fear. It was Heasten, the Danish warlord whose path had so often crossed with Uhtred’s and his men. You recognised him from your few encounters at Alfred’s court where he tried to persuade the king that his wife and children wished to accept Christianity and get baptised. It had been a ruse, a ploy to gain Alfred's trust and provide false information about Bloodhair's army. Unfortunately, these encounters had allowed Heasten to recognize you as well.

A cunning smirk crept across Heasten’s face as he fixed his gaze upon you, scanning your entire being from head to toe. His eyes lingered upon your swollen belly and they narrowed slightly, flickering with a malevolent spark, revealing the twisted delight that swirled within. Like a predator sizing up its prey, his gaze became focused and intense.

“Ah, who do we have here!” Heasten exclaimed as the corners of his mouth curled upwards and a wicked grin began to spread across his face, his eyes flaring in mischief, “Sihtric’s little bitch, ripe as an apple!” He approached the wagon, dismounted his horse, and extended his hand in your direction, urging you to descend.

“You know Sihtric will chop you alive into pieces and feed to the dogs, if you lay a hand on me,” you hissed at him, attempting to invoke fear, but it seemed to have no effect on Heasten. His smirk only grew wider.

“First your husband will have to convince his Lord to stay away from the upcoming battle,” Heasten retorted, his voice laced with menace. “Or else, it will be me who carves pieces from your lovely body and sends them to Sihtric.”

“You, there,” Heasten commanded one of his warriors. “Go to Winchester. When Lord Uhtred returns, seek out his oathman Sihtric and tell him what happened today. Tell him, that if he ever wishes to see his wife and his pup alive, he must persuade Uhtred to stay away from the battle Edward – that little weasel of a king – is preparing to fight against Cnut’s army. And if he fails to do so, he will have to choose between the life of his Lord and the life of his wife and child,” Heasten stretched his hand toward you, forcefully ripping away the delicate silver chain that hung around your neck – a gift from Sihtric.

“Take this and present it to Sihtric as a proof that you speak the truth,” he commanded, handing the torn silver chain to the warrior.

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

Uhtred had sent out all his available men to gather information and persuaded Sihtric to remain in Winchester, ready to depart at a moment’s notice should any news arrive. Sihtric was a complete mess. The mere thought of waiting idly, doing nothing, was unbearable. In a desperate attempt to drown his fear, despair, and overwhelming helplessness, he resorted to the only thing that came to mind—he drank. He hoped it would numb the consuming emotions that tormented him and finally got so drunk, that Finan and Osferth had to carry him back to his room in the tavern.

It was long past midnight when Sihtric awoke to a pounding headache. At first, he couldn’t even recall where he was, but then in a sudden rush, the events of the previous day flooded his mind. He jumped out of the bed still wearing his clothes as his friends hadn’t bothered to undress him. In need of some fresh air, he hurried outside just in time before his stomach revolted and he threw up. Spotting a nearby barrel filled with rainwater, Sihtric plunged his head under the cold water and counted to five before emerging, only to find a man – a Dane – standing next to him. Sihtric instinctively reached for his axe, but the Dane simply shook his head.

“Don’t! Believe me, you want to hear what I have to say,” the Dane spoke raising his hands to show that he held no weapons, while Sihtric watched him warily.

“I have a message for you from Heasten. You remember our dear friend Heasten, don’t you?” the Dane continued, “He sends his regards. It has come to his ears that you are missing something, something very dear to you. And guess what? Heasten has found it.” Sihtric listened with eyes widening in disbelief, his expression shifting from watchful cautiousness to pure fury, though the Dane seemed oblivious to the change and pressed on.

“Listen carefully. If you ever wish to see your bitch and the pup within her alive, you must deter Uhtred from helping Edward. He must not join Edward’s army, nor should he engage in the battle against Cnut. Do you understand, you worthless scum? If you fail to do so or if the lives of your family hold no value to him, then you have a choice to make: Uhtred’s life in exchange for the lives of your loved ones.”

Sihtric stood frozen, rage slowly consuming him, as the Dane’s words sank in. He didn’t want to believe it. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound escaped. The Dane extended his hand toward Sihtric, revealing something held within his palm. “This is the proof you were seeking,” the Dane smirked, unfurling his fingers, and allowing something small fall to the ground. Sihtric knelt down, his anger mounting, as he picked up the delicate silver chain with a pendant in the form of the sun. He recognised it instantly; the very same necklace he had given you when Uhtred agreed to your marriage, and you had always worn it ever since. Sihtric grunted in rage and quickly sprang to his feet, only to discover that the Dane had vanished.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #sihtric x reader #tlk #tlk fic

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punkeropercyjackson · 1 month ago

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Literally i love afrolatino Jason so much as a homecountry raised afro-dominicana who's so the same as Jason on a fundamental level but also because it makes so much sense it would be perfect representation

His positive masculinity-cocky asf and full of himself but a consent king and a multiple time mama's boy that worships women for BEING women,the way he runs his mouth to his own dad and hates authority and beats up cops,roughouses with his brothers,his nerdy interests in classic literature and video games he's so passionate and unashamed about,the fact his emotional constipation and toughness comes from trauma and not from gender roles bullshit-is so that of black man's,he was a peppy altruistic softboy who was too shy to talk to girls and he was never the angry Robin but he WAS angry at the world and didn't hide it for others' comfort because he wanted to be heard and he was a loudmouth for sure,he was poor but pre-classist-retcons it was potrayed as positive representation for lower class families and his feelings on his parents are so complex but he loves them nonetheless and always will,he beefed with every other Batkid EXCEPT Duke not at all coincidentally and liked him on first meeting and rides for him so hard and tells him he's a real Robin,Batkid AND Batboy nonstop and came back to the Batfam only when Duke joined too and never in well-written stories is he a part of it again unless his Signal Of Hope And Chaos and Robin who he's the Robin to too is there

He refused to let Roy coddle him and rejected Kory for being a whitewashed caricature of a black woman and a white blue eyed blondie normie girl but is in love with Artemis(brown egyptian),Rose(cambodian wasian)and of course Dana(monoracial afrolatina),he was murdered at 15 by a man with a long history of bigotry already and came back with brutal opinions on the justice system to the point of morally gray vigilantism and he's not right every time but he IS played as a tragedy and sympathetically every time,he's goth punk,his adoptive mom is an arab-chinese woman and he perfers her over his adoptive white dad,his names are Jason Todd(black ass name)and Red HOOD,he hates alcohol and smoking and sex without love and rarely dates,he's anti-incest and killed a pedophillic teacher and pushed a man off a roof as a TWEEN for running a sex trafficking ring,his birthday is August 16th aka Dominican Restoration Day and red represents blood on our country's flag,Bombshells made him a spaniard and that's totes something DC would pull with a latino character,the only guy he has actual romantic subtext with despite all his popular ships is Kyle(mestizo mejicano),his right-hand man male childhood bestie is Eddie in a great twist of the 'White Male Mc,Comic Relief Black Best Friend' trope,his Lego movie is 'Family Matters' and that's also the name of an iconic 80s sitcom WHICH is also the decade Jason debuted and oddly enough it's first episode coincited with A Death In The Family's release,the only Batfam girl he's really close to is Stephanie who's equally in the 'should be canonically black' category as him and they're platonic m/f friendship rep for some sweet sweet platonic black love and his canon Marvel Variant by qualifications is mfing MILES MORALES,including MILES G(or should i say 'Red Hood Miles')

Guys you don't get it,afro-dominicano Jason means the literal multiverse to me,he's canon to my lil afrolatina ass.Neapolitan flan could fix him and he's also trans and fat and has audhd,anxiety,bpd,ptsd and npd ALL self-diagnosed because doctors are sick fucks to neurodivergent blk folks and he knows it from childhood and Red Hood and The Outlaws was a 2010-2020 run that lasted 120 issues and The Outlaws is stacked with black/latino/afrolatino members including Duke as their Robin who got his own solo in Robin 2007 and he calls Talia Mamí and he mentors Damian's generation and is closest to Nell and he was a Kory fanboy as Robin and his piercings are a bridge,a vertical labret and vertical stacks and he stans Mcr,Korn,Teezo Touchdown and Brandy and he had an afro as Robin but now he has shoulder length dreads and his Star Sapphire form had wicks and he can cook like a god and he feels guilt over falling under stereotypes but never lets it get to him and he's been building up his battle jacket since he got it in Lost Days as a gift from Talia and he speaks fluent english,spanish,hebrew,arabic AND cantonese and his favorite energy drink is Whole Lotta Chocalata Bang and every Monster flavor and he watches/reads/plays all his media in latino spanish whenever there's the option AND AND AND

^^^DOING THIS TO HIM-AFROLATINO JT YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FAMOUS

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thelaughtercafe · 7 months ago

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Hello! I'm very happy to found your blog... since you said you accept darker content request... would you mind doing something related to "bullying" with lee kageyama and ler oikawa? I feel like only Oikawa strong enough to bully Kageyama, because Kageyama itself was already intimidating in my opinion... Thank you so much in advance! P.S. please avoid foot tickles hehe

Tea Type: Black Coffee

Potential Triggers: Bullying using tickling, I'm gonna give a non-con warning for tickling too, some trauma responses and panicked behavior

Pairing: Oikawa/Kageyama

Length: 1.6k+

Summary: A chance meeting leads to familiar feelings and anxieties thought long forgotten.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this anon, apologies for the wait! I was a little unsure just how dark I wanted to go with it so it took a bit to finish it but I hope you enjoy the final product! Definitely let me know whatcha think <3

Chance Meetings*

“Is that who I think it is?”

Kageyama froze in place; a long forgotten feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He felt his heart beat faster, heat flooding his cheeks as his eyes darted around, looking for an escape. He knew he shouldn't have gone to the sports store today. If he ran- he just knew he wouldn't get far. Not with him.

A familiar arm slung around his shoulder and he whirled to lock eyes, still frozen.

Oikawa laughed, eyes glittering in amusement at Kageyama's shock.

“I should've known if I'd catch you anywhere it'd be here; heard you've been doing pretty well for yourself nowadays. Your team is pretty good.”

Kageyama nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than for this to be over with. Maybe if he just told him what he wanted to hear he'd leave without a fuss. He cleared his throat and shrugged off Oikawa's arm, turning his face away as he headed towards the doors, trying to make it look casual. He tried to ignore the lump in his throat as he followed just behind him, a cheerful grin on his face.

“Yeah, yours too. You're just as strategic as ever.”

“What can I say? Got to keep my opponents guessing~”

He tried not to remember his old encouragement methods, but failed, feeling more heat in his cheeks as he reached his car. He felt the weight in his chest begin to subside, a bit of genuine happiness making a small smile spread across his lips.

“Sorry to cut the conversation short, I've actually got to meal prep for this week, but it was great seeing you again.”

Kageyama turned to try and open his car door but inhaled as Oikawa leaned over him, one arm over his head, subtly keeping the door closed and drawing his attention back his way. He tried not to flinch at the way Oikawa's once playful, light expression darkened, but only in his eyes. His voice and words remained bubbly. They were still in public after all.

“Aww but I haven’t seen you in soo long Tobio~ I can help you! You don't mind me tagging along do you?”

Kageyama debated his options, nibbling his bottom lip and came to a decision. There really wasn't one. Oikawa was nothing if not resourceful, and stubborn. If he didn't agree now? He'd just get it worse later. Oikawa had never had any issues biding his time. He'd once said it gave him time to think up more “fun ideas”. For him, of course.

So, Kageyama nodded with a sigh.

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and Oikawa giggled, his eyes lighting right back up at his agreeance and poked Kageyama's unguarded midsection, making him jump and cover his stomach.

“Aww c'mon cheer up Tobio! We'll have so much fun!”

Kageyama grumbled and got into his car as Oikawa moved over to his own after a cheerful wave to follow him home.

Once there, things were nicer than Kageyama expected honestly. He helped him meal prep, talking animatedly about setting strategies that he too couldn't help but get passionate about, and their favorite college teams. Kageyama was finally relaxing from being jumpy at Oikawa’s surprise attack earlier when he struck while they were relaxing in the living room.

Kageyama had sat on the other end of the couch when Oikawa eagerly bounded forward and straddled his waist. Kageyama grappled with him but quickly found himself overpowered, with his hands pinned under Oikawa's legs as he straddled his waist.

Oikawa laughed gleefully and cooed at him as Kageyama glowered up at him.

“Aww, you didn't really think I'd letcha off the hook, how did ya? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't test your endurance? You know; for old times sake~”

Kageyama's heart beat wildly and he growled, trying to make himself more threatening. It worked on everyone in Karasuno, and even with his current team. Most normal people would've cowered, and apologized- but Oikawa was the one bastard that had never worked on. Not ever since he found out this stupid, downright humiliating weakness of his.

It was kind of hard to be taken seriously when you were laughing your head off, and squealing like a child.

“Now where to start, where to start? Any volunteers?”

Oikawa sounded sadistic as ever, eyes scanning his body for the slightest movement now that they were alone and Kageyama discreetly tried to squirm. No dice. He was stuck. Unfortunately he bucked his hips in the process and Oikawa’s eyes lit up.

“I never took you to be so eager Tobio~ But if you insist!”

Kageyama threw his head back in mirth as Oikawa drilled his thumbs into his hipbones, making him really buck, for all the good it did him.

“Hhehehehey! Cut it ohohout, get off mehehehe!”

“Nah, you must be having fun. Look at that beaming smile you’ve got! So cute~”

Kageyama groaned in annoyance at that, feeling his blush darken.

“Ugh! I am nhahahahat! I swear when you let me up you’re dehehehead!! You hehehear me!? Dead!”

Oikawa’s eyes sparkled with mirth as he jeered down at him, his fingers ruthlessly toying with his hips before one jumped to scribble at his tummy, his shirt having ridden up from his struggling.

“Oho? Still have it in you to threaten me? That’s not very sportsmanlike of you Tobio! Besides, we both know you’d never be able to overpower moi!”

Kageyama wished he had the strength to fight back, to prove him wrong but tickling had always made him helpless, unable to do anything but laugh. He’d tried to get him back later, give him a taste of his own medicine once, back in college.

It hadn’t gone well- Iwaizumi had walked in and all chances had evaporated in front of his eyes. Two on one was hardly fair, but seeing the momentary panic in Oikawa’s eyes and the snort he’d let out had been worth it. At least till he had been wrecked to tears for the attempt.

His struggling finally bore fruit as he bucked particularly aggressively when Oikawa moved suddenly from his hip to the bottom of his ribs, finally allowing one of his hands freedom. He grabbed his wrist, tugging the offending hand up and off of him, panting and glaring. It wasn’t very threatening apparently, as Oikawa merely giggled at him, the fingers spidering along his stomach pausing. He cocked his head at him, brown eyes glittering with amusement.

“Oho? I’m impressed Tobio! You’ve bulked up since our school days!”

The hand at his tummy jumped to his exposed underarm and Kageyama yelped, air leaving him in a rush. Now that’s he’d gotten one of his hands, he had some leverage and strength and knowing he didn’t have much time, he acted. He raised his knee so it was flush against his captor’s side and brought both their hands down against the couch to push off his tricep to turn. Oikawa wasn’t expecting his sudden movements, and tumbled to the ground beside the couch, freeing his other hand in the process. He quickly released Oikawa’s wrist and jolted up, and over him seeking refuge in his bedroom and slammed it behind him, locking it just as a body slammed against it, causing it to jump back in surprise.

He panted, swallowing harshly, hands trembling as he tried to think rationally. Oikawa wouldn’t break his door down. That was too direct for a scheming bastard like him. His eyes scanned the room for his phone and he felt his blood turn to ice as he realized it wasn’t here. Shit. The banging stopped, and Oikawa’s too sweet voice came through.

“Aw c’mon Tobio, we were just playing~ I guess you’re a tad more sensitive than I remember. Sorry if I pushed you too much; if you come out, I promise I’ll play nice~”

Kageyama snorted, glaring at the door. He felt bolder, now that he was safe from his old “friend”.

“I’m not the same naive college kid you tormented, just leave, alright? I’m not gonna fall for your sweet words anymore!”

There was stony silence and Kageyama immediately regretted his speaking out, but it was too late to take it back now.

So instead, he listened, backing up to sit on his bed and try to process. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Why did he bring him here? Now he knew his address. Maybe…Maybe he really hadn’t changed that much after all. If he was honest with himself, he’d always known some part of him missed Oikawa. For all his faults, his lack of listening sometimes…those good moments were still good. Maybe he was over-reacting-

He shook his head, holding his head in his hands. He was doing it again. Falling back on old habits to cope with Oikawa being in his life.

“Tobio, I’m going to head out now! I put your meals in the fridge. And…I’m sorry. Really.”

Kageyama looked at the door with wide eyes. Oikawa actually sounded…remorseful. He sounded serious. Still, he didn’t move until he heard his door slam, and even then he held his breath and put his ear to his door, listening for any sign of footsteps, just in case. He twisted the knob and then headed back to the living room, letting out a breath as he realized he was truly gone.

Everything was cleaned up, his living room just as it was, as if he was never there to begin with.

He jumped in place at a sound, and his eyes flew to his phone, making him sigh. Just a text message. Stupid body. Why was he still so on edge?

He grabbed his phone and swiped it open.

His eyes widened and his grip tightened, his other hand moving to cover his mouth.

An unknown number.

The message?

‘Let’s meet up again sometime Tobio~’

#tlc: tickle fics #tlc: black coffee #ler!oikawa #ler! oikawa #lee! kageyama #lee!kageyama #haikyuu tickle #haikyuu tickle fic #oikawa x kageyama #oikawa tooru #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #tw noncon #tlc: nsft #tlc: asks #anon

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