#hopefully writing out the thoughts will make them go away so i can feel less bad

[mitamicah]

One more little 'Micah having a self pity day': after having drawn the ice lashes I stand corrected - this was a mistake. Oh well you cannot win everytime

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚" (Aemond x Reader)

A/N: I want to first say. I STRUGGLE with writing dialogue in different periods. So if I make this into a fic it is going to take me so long because I will have to read other people's stories and rewatch the show so the dialogue can be somewhat realistic. Hopefully, I do well...If not. Don't tell me shit. I don't wanna hear it. // Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: You return with your family to King's Landing to defend Lucerys against your uncle Vaemond but he is not the uncle you worry about. Your mind is filled with the man you were once betrothed to what he will say when he sees you, and how he will act. You worry about how your Uncle Aemond will treat you after all this time.

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Tw: Oral Sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 5.4k (an absolute fucking monstrosity written in a couple hours)

"Would say it's nice to be home but I scarcely recognize it." Daemon hums slightly before walking around looking at every bit of the wall in disgust. Rhaenyra turns to you and your brothers. "I trust you three will stay out of trouble while we go visit your grandsire?"

Your brothers nod their heads as you all take your turn to look over what was once your home. It feels...darker than it did when you lived here, almost abandoned. If it was not for the servants walking around you would think it was.

Rhaenyra and Daemon walk away leaving you and your brothers.

"Come on. I want to see if that hole is still in the wall in the training yard." Luke rolls his eyes at the stupid memory which makes you smile. You follow after them as they try to recall the way there.

You don't listen to their conversation as Jace points out the hole that still remains. You can barely pay attention to anything anyone is saying. Your brain has been in panic mode since the moment you were told you would be returning here.

Scared to face your previous betrothed. You feel someone's hands wrap around yours and snap you out of your thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Luke says softly and looks at you worriedly. You nod and ruffle his hair with a smile.

"Im fine. Just...feels weird being back." He doesn't let go of your hand. You notice as he looks around at all the people staring at him and Jace. It had always been like this, people often compared you to your brothers in how different you looked. How you carried Targaryen features while they resembled Harwin Strong.

Unknown to you or your brothers at the time Rhaenyra and Laenor did truly try to conceive at least one trueborn child. But in the end, it was all too uncomfortable for them. It was only on their second try did they attempt it in another way. Laenor at first stayed in the room alone getting himself just before his peak so that when Rhaenyra came in all he had to do was empty himself inside of her. That one time resulted in you. The only child related to Laenor in both blood and name.

Jace comes and pulls Luke away to watch a fight you couldn't care less about. You walked around the yard looking at the various weapons laid out. You knew that you could fight far better than most of the men here, having been trained by Daemon himself.

Bored by the dusty swords and daggers you turn to watch the fight from the other side. Your heart dropped into your ass as you see the man before you.

He was tall...you always thought he would be. His hair sadly no longer carried those curls that once coiled around your fingers as he read to you. An eyepatch sat over his eye breaking your heart as you recalled the night.

"Get off of him!" "Stop it, Jace!" "Don't hurt him!"

You clamped your eyes closed wanting to fight off the painful memory. You were weak then, unable to help. You couldn't protect him in any way that mattered.

The claps of everyone around you had you opening your eyes once more. You watched as Aemond bested Criston in a duel.

"Well done, my prince, You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews...have you come to train?" You see the look on Luke's face and you feel bad for him. He and Jace had spent most of their time trying to learn High Valyrian and barely picked up a sword unless forced to. Aemond had clearly spent all his time training since the accident.

"Open the gates!" Everyone turns to watch as the guards open the gates and men carrying the banners of Velaryon walk in. You walk over to your brothers and hold onto Luke's hands as Vaemond passes by staring Luke down. Vamond's expression only softens as he looks at you and he offers you a warm smile.

The same smile he had given you at Laena's funeral as he took the opportunity to call your brother's bastards in such a sad time. You hear Luke audibly gulp and you try to soothe him by running your fingers over his knuckles.

"Let's go inside." You place a hand on Jace's back to calm him down as you notice the look of anger on his face at the sight of Vaemond.

As you turn to enter the Red Keep your eyes automatically land on Aemond who now wears an expression you can't quite place. His eyes are only on you and for a moment it feels like there's only you two but Jace is quick to step in front of your view and to give Aemond a look you can't see. Whatever it is has him turning around in anger and returning to sparring with Criston.

You walk with Rhaenyra and Rhaena towards Rhaenys.

"Grandmother" Rhaena calls out and basically runs over to her. You follow behind her.

"Rhaena..." Rhaena stands before her as Rhaenys holds her hand. You step beside her and Rhaenys looks over to you. She steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. "You two have grown beautifully." She kisses both of your cheeks.

"Baela said you might be here." Your mother comes closer, each step wary. "She's done well as your ward. You've um... raised her admirably." Rhaenys doesn't look over and keeps her eyes trained on both you and Rhaena.

"You honour me, Princess." Rhaenys smiles softly at Rhaenyra.

"Might I speak to the Princess alone, girls?" Rhaena looks to your grandmother almost for permission. She nods and lets go of both of you.

"Princess." Rhaena begins to walk away. You give your grandmother another kiss on the cheek before leaving.

Rhaenyra smiles at you as you walk away to join Rhaena.

"What do you think they're talking about?" You both look back once more before heading inside.

"I have no idea." You look at your mother who steps closer to your grandmother. Rhaene takes your arm and you turn to her. "Come. Let us go find the boys."

That night it rained and the sound of thunder filled your old chambers. His face filled your memories. His voice echoed in your ears.

"Can I kiss you Aemond?" Your fingertips ran over the dip of his lips as you imagined what they would feel like on yours."You never have to ask Princess."

You touch your lips at the memory of your first kiss. The only kiss you ever got to share with him. How soft his kiss was, how gentle he was. Your lips yearned for another kiss. Your body begs for his warmth and your heart breaks. It breaks at the memory of when your betrothal was cancelled when you knew the future you both talked about would never happen.

"How many children will we have?" Your head lay in his lap as he read a book, his fingers twirling your hair as you pick the petals of a flower. "As many as you are willing to bear me, Princess." You blush brightly which only brings a smile to his face. But your brain always knows how to ruin the moment as a new thought plagues your mind."Would you be angry at me if I had a girl first?" Aemond closes his book and looks down at you. "I could never be angry at you."

You sat up in your bed to the sound of a knock at the door. Your hands roughly smooth over your head pushing your hair back as if it wipes away the memories and dreams.

How can one live like this? How can one continue on in life like this? He is in every breath you take, every time you close your eyes his face decorates the darkness that you simply wish would consume you. You are reminded of him in every waking moment of your life.

Another knock comes to your chamber doors and you know you have no choice but to start your day. You sweat at the thought of seeing him again.

Will he keep to his words? Will he not be angry with you for being gone for so long? For not sending any letters? You did not want to find out. In truth you just want to stay in your chambers all day and sleep, but for the sake of Luke you would attend the hearing.

"The crown will now hear the petitions." Otto sits on the throne as his voice echoes throughout the hall. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Vaemond steps forward as everyone looks towards him. Everyone but Aemond. You can see him in the corner of your eye his gaze is focused on you. Never looking away, never taking a break.

You stand next to Daemon looking forward. Knowing that if you even willed your eyes to move it would land on him. And you couldn't bear to look at him.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand." Vaemond then goes on to talk about the history and the days of Old Valyria. You can't hear him, you can't hear anything once more over the beating of your heart.

"Iksis bisa iā qogror iā elekor?" [Is this a class or a hearing?] Daemon whispers to you. He notices your rigid stance and how you're taking in shallow breaths. He places a hand on your elbow and you look over to him. He gives you a look of "Are you ok?" to which you nod.

He returns back to staring Vaemond down hoping he will eventually burn holes into the side of his head and will fall dead where he stands but not everyone is that lucky. It is only then that he notices a one-eye fucker staring in his direction. He shifts his gaze and notices Aemond staring at you. Aemond can feel someone looking at him and looking towards Daemon before pressing his lips in a thin line and giving Vaemond his attention.

"As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." You are snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your mother's voice. You look over to her. "If you cared so much about your house's blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful hair." Vaemond holds a look of anger towards her. "No, you only speak for yourself. and for your own ambition."

"You will have a chance to make your own petition Princess Rhaenyra." You look towards Alicent. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Next to her, you see the smirks of both Aegon and Aemond. You know they enjoy this, seeing Luke be openly called a bastard.

Why are your brothers blamed and dragged through the mud for what your mother has done? Are they not innocent in their own conceivement?

Vaemond gives Alicent a slight nod before turning towards your family.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" He speaks to your mother in a condescending tone. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it."

Your heart twinges for your mother. You feel conflicted all the time. On one hand, your brothers are indeed not blood-related to your father. But he had accepted them as his sons publicly no doubt. What could he have done for people to recognize them as his children? On the other hand, Vaemond proves a point in matters of blood. But is it not the last names people remember?

They both ride dragons, and they learn the tongue of the dragon. They are everything Targaryen but in matters of looks and blood. But that is more than enough for people to shun them. You want to side with them with your full heart, but how can you when you understand the opposition's points?

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the andals and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

You look up in awe as you watch your grandsire slowly walk into the room. The only sound was the tapping of his cane against the floor. You had not seen him in so long, he looked so old and different. Hunched over and in pain.

You watch as he makes his way up to the throne and Daemon aids him. Otto moves over to stand next to Alicent and you can see the confusion and anger on his face. His plans are ruined and whatever chance he had at getting the Velaryons on their side is squandered.

"I must...admit...my confusion." Your grandsire breathes quickly as he tries to regain his strength. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." You listen as he calls for your grandmother to speak.

You feel hot. This room feels hot. You pull repeatedly at the band on your wrist. A coping mechanism you developed when you felt so far away from everything. You snap the band against your wrist as you listen to your grandmother who only further pushes for Corly's wishes for Lucerys to be the next Lord of the Tides. You miss her announcing the marriage between your brothers and cousins.

You can't focus. He is still staring at you. You make the mistake of closing your eyes cause when you open them they are on him. You take in a sharp breath and stare back at him. Your heart feels as though someone is squeezing it, your chest heavy as if a dragon sits atop it. You want nothing more than to go over there but you keep your feet planted.

"That is no true Velaryon." You jump slightly looking towards your uncle as he angrily points at Luke. "and certainly no nephew of mine." Your mother tells your brothers to head to their chambers before attempting to silence Vaemond.

"You can not all be blind surely? To look upon both my grandniece and her sons and think they share the same father?" Everyone looks at you and for a moment you wish you could shrink into the walls, fade into the people behind you. "She even skips her daughter so that her son could inherit Driftmark when it belongs to my niece. She wishes to cover her tracks and erase my niece's future." You've never felt that way. You were never upset at your mother's decisions. Maybe you always assumed you'd end up with Aemond. "Gods be damned...I will not see it ended on the account of this-" Your eyes widen as you realize what he wishes to say.

You feel a heat radiate beside you and notice the body language of Daemon has changed. A hand rests on his sword as his head is cocked to the side.

"Say it." He whispers softly. Vaemond gives Daemon a smug look.

"Her sons...are BASTARDS! And she...is...a whore." Everyone gasps and you notice the heat beside you is missing. You watch as King Viserys unsheaths his dagger and calls for your uncle's tongue.

You then hear a thud and turn and see Vaemond's body hit the floor. His head was cut off at the mouth, his tongue still attached. Much happens in those moments but your eyes stay on Vaemond's body. It is only when your mother places a hand on your cheek you look away.

"Go with your grandmother. She might need comfort."

You stand next to Rhaenys, holding her hand as the silent sisters work on your uncle.

"Did you ever feel that way, little ocean?" You look over to her as her eyes are trained upon his seperated head. "As if your mother was trying to erase you?"

"No, grandmother. To be honest. I had always imagined myself living here, in the Red Keep." You looked around the room watching the sisters move slowly and carefully.

"Married to Aemond." Your quick to look back towards her she offers you a faint smile before turning to you. "Come back with me, to Driftmark. Your grandsire would love to see you and I have missed your presence." You nod, not caring to say that you should ask the permission of your mother and father.

The Grand Maester walks over and speaks. You stare at the body of your uncle once more. Is this justice? He called your mother a whore and your brother bastards...but was he wrong?

"The Stranger has visited me more times than I can count, Grand Maester." You feel her squeeze your hand. "I assure you, he cares little whether my eyes are open or closed." You watch as he leaves. "You should go, little ocean. Your grandsire wishes for you to eat with your family."

"Will you not dine with us?" You brush your fingers against her hand.

"I fear I have lost my appetite." She kisses your head. "We will take our leave on the morrow." You nod before leaving the room with a final look towards your uncle.

As you enter the dining hall your family is already there. The table already has its sides. On the right sit your mother and your family and on the left sit the Queen and hers. The separation hurts you and you wish you could do something about it. Mend it in whatever way possible. You would give your own life if it meant uniting your family.

Jacerys offers his seat so you can sit next to Baela and he moves to her other side. The switch puts you next to Aegon but you do not mind. He has never been one to bother you before, and only ever makes small jokes, which you would never admit to his face, can be funny.

"Mother?" Rhaenyra turns in her chair towards you.

"Yes, my heart?" She places a hand on your arm you smile at the name. Each one of you had one, Jace was often referred to as her love, Luke as her sweet boy, and you her heart.

"Grandmother has requested I return with her to Driftmark... I'd like to. To see grandsire, if that is all right with you." She smiles softly and brings your hand to her lips as she kisses it.

"Of course." You hear the doors open and see your grandsire being carried in. "We will talk more later. Go sit." You walk over to your chair and stand until he is placed in his spot.

As you walk over you look up and see his eyes on you once more. He stands at the head of the table watching you. You sit only when you notice everyone else does and clasp your hands together when Alicent calls for prayer. You've read about the Seven and know only as much as books taught you. You hear Alicent's prayer but you pray your own. You ask The Warrior and The Smith to give you strength, you beg for forgiveness from The Maiden for your thoughts and acknowledge The Stranger, for you both feel like outcasts in this world.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena." It is only then that you feel the weight of his gaze lift, as he looks at your brother on the other end of the table. Your grandsire calls for a toast to your brothers. He calls for another toast for Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides.

"I also want to say. How beautifully my granddaughter has grown." You feel the eyes of everyone turn to you, and your mother smiles. Even Alicent gives you a genuine gentle smile. "Im sure by your next nameday we will have found a suitable match for your hand. Let us toast in hopes you will find someone deserving of you." Everyone raises their glass.

But it is only Aemond who does not. You watch as Aegon leans over you towards Baela.

"He does know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle. Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be cousin," Baela responds clearly annoyed. Jace responds but you don't hear it whatever he says has Aegon sitting back down fully in his seat.

You stare forward as King Viserys makes a speech. You return to snapping the band against your wrist as you again feel the heat of his stare. Words are shared between the Queen and your mother before Aegon gets up and sets himself in between Baela and Jace.

"I, um I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask-" Jace bangs his hands on the table before standing up which leads to Aemond standing up as well ready to protect his brother if need be.

Aegon sits down quickly next to you. More speeches go on, too many speeches. You wish everyone would just shut up so we can all be done with this dinner. Either that or let us remove our masks and speak the truth. You have grown tired of this tension and fake genuineness.

You remain next to Aegon as food is brought out and Jace takes Helaena to dance. You can see the look on his face. He looks over your family with a sort of longing. Everything he has ever wanted on display in front of him.

"Would you care to dance uncle?" He looks over to you with a surprised look on his face. He puts down his cup and is about to put out his hand when someone clears their throat. You look over to the noise and see Aemond staring at the two of you.

"Not if I wish to lose my head." He picks his cup back up and returns to watching everyone. You look over to Aemond who only stares at you with no emotion.

You watch as guards walk over to your grandsire and take him away. You make a plan in your head to go visit him tonight to speak to him.

The mood is only spoiled as a pig is placed in front of Aemond. You hear the light chuckles of Luke and curse him in your head. You flinch as Aemond's hand bangs the table and he stands up picking up his cup.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace...Luke...and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." And in that pause alone you feel that separation between families grow. "...strong. Come...let us drain our cups to these three strong boys."

"I dare you say that again." You tense as Jace speaks already being able to tell where this is going.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment." Aemond lowers his cups and walks over to Jace. "Do you not think yourself strong?" Jace punches Aemond...or...attempts to. Aemond still stands unwavering and not a drop spilt from his cup.

Aegon grabs Luke who tries to walk over to help Jace and slams his head on the table. You stand up and walk over to Aegon and pull his hair, yanking his head back. He releases Luke and only smiles up at you. You put him in the same position he had your brother in, slamming his head against the table and holding him down until guards come and step in between you two.

You remain standing at the chairs as the sides are made once more. You stand somewhat in the middle. Jace attempts to run back over to Aemond but Daemon steps in front of him.

"Go to your quarters. All of you go now." Your siblings and cousins leave but you remain still standing in your spot. You watch as Aemond and Daemon stare at each other silently. Aemond then turns to you and so does everyone else, he looks at you and then hums to himself as he walks out of the room.

"Come little rogue." Daemon puts his arm out for you. You take his arm, your mother pats your cheek and you follow him out of the room.

You sit in your mother and Daemon's chambers caring for young Aegon and Viserys along with a couple of maids.

Your mother walks in and takes a seat next to Daemon.

"I will see the boys home. Then I will return on dragonback." She holds Daemon's hand.

"Just the boys?" He asks looking over at you.

"Grandmother has asked me to return with her and Baela to Driftmark." He nods.

"Head to bed rogue." You nod and stand up walking over to your parents. You kiss your mother's cheek and place a hand on her stomach before walking past Daemon and pulling on the small ponytail in his hair softly and leaving the room.

Daemon watches as you leave with a smirk on his face and waits until the door is closed to speak.

"Did you see the way he looked at her?" Rhaenyra is taken aback by Daemon's tone. He stands up and paces.

"Who, my love?" She rubs her belly as she watches her children play.

"Aemond." He scowls. "He's been looking at her since we arrived as if he wants to take her where she stands. Which is impressive since the fucker only has one eye." he sits back down.

"They were once betrothed Daemon. Before that, they were closer than any of the kids. They spent all their free time together." She smirks at her husbands's protectiveness. It didn't take long for him to see you as one of his own daughters.

"We should discuss her future marriage. Maybe it's time we start looking for a husband for her." Rhaenyra nods.

"We will speak to her about it when she returns from Driftmark. Vaemond was right about one thing...she is being erased...I had not realized I was doing that." Daemon took her hand and placed the other on her bump.

"That fucker didn't know what he was talking about. You are a great mother to her, and she has had no complaints about her inheritance." She knows he's right.

"Nonetheless. If there is one thing I can give her is a choice. She will decide who she marries. I would feel better knowing it's a man of her own choosing."

Your handmaids leave the room once you're finished being dressed for bed. You sit in front of your vanity staring at yourself.

When had you become someone you didn't recognize? When did you begin just walking the earth instead of living on it? When had you become so...lonely.

You walk over to the balcony and step outside. Pulling your robe tighter to your body against the cold air. You close your eyes and though you aren't sure who it is you are speaking to you beg them to help you. To bring you happiness and peace.

"Mandianna" You hear him from behind you. You turn around slowly and see him standing inside your room. You slowly walk in and close the balcony doors behind you, locking them.

"...Aemond..." You move to take another step to him but he raises a hand.

"For as long as I can remember you...Not a day has gone by when I haven't thought of you." You take a deep breath as he speaks. "And now that you're here...I'm in agony." He takes a step towards you. "The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you...I can't breathe." He stops in front of you a hand on your cheek. "I'm haunted by the kiss that you should never have given me. My heart is beating, hoping that that kiss will not become a scar." He lowers his head so he hovers just above your lips. "You are in my very soul, tormenting me...what can I do? I will do anything you ask."

You stare up into his eyes and feel drawn into them. You drown in them putting up no fight. Wanting to feel that darkness that has followed you all these years surround you.

"Kiss me." And he does and it is everything you've imagined. You give him full reign and kisses you with the same intensity that a drowning man comes up for air.

When he finally pulls away he admires your bruised lips and brushes the tears from your eyes.

"Aemond...I have grieved for what we could have been...so much time has passed. And our families have only grown farther apart." He kisses the side of your cheek.

"But what is grief if not love persevering?" He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you right against him as his eyes meet yours. "I have yet to meet another soul who is fluent in my language..but you? You are fluent in me." You place your hands on his chest. "Marry me. In the tradition of our ancestors. Let my blood become yours, and yours mine." You see the hope in his eyes.

"And what of our families?" They would never accept this." You try to pull away but he holds you tight against him.

"I refuse to sacrifice the one person who sees me for who I am for a family who barely sees me for the mask I wear." He leads you towards your bed and sits you down at the edge of it before sitting before you on his knees. "You are mine. You were always meant to be mine."

His hands trail up your legs as a smirk spreads over his face.

"Aemond. We can't." He pushes up your nightgown while kissing his way up your legs.

"I will not spoil you. I will only wish for a preview of what will be mine." He pushes your dress up all the way and pulls down your small clothes. He pulls your legs over his shoulder as he lowers himself in between your thighs.

He wastes no time drinking you up. His tongue tastes whatever he can, his nose brushing against your bud softly. His tongue stiffens inside of you as he finds that place his brother had told him about. It has you lying down covering your mouth.

"Ae-Aemond..." He moans against your cunt in pleasure at your moans of his name. "Please..." you're unsure of what it is you are begging for but whatever it is you know you need it.

He brings a finger to better rub your bud as he fucks you with his tongue. He can feel you clenching and watches as you're soon arching off of the bed holding on to his hair.

The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced. A large opposite from how dark you have been feeling. You feel lighter as if pent-up energy has been released.

He gives your bud one last kiss before walking away and returning with a wet cloth. He wipes his face first before gently cleaning you. When he's done you sit up and he sits next to you pulling you into his lap.

You feel how hard he is below you and move so your legs are wrapped around his torso. You grind down on him and he looks up at you holding on to your hips. The friction against your bud only builds back up that feeling in your stomach. You kiss Aemond as he continues to guide you so you're grinding down on him. He picks up speed his mouth agape.

Without saying anything you reach and pull the eye patch off of him. Aemond stops and looks away hiding his face. You place a hand on his cheek and turn him back to you.

"Gevie." You kiss his scar gently and admire the sapphire that replaces his eye. He returns to grinding you down on him lewd thoughts fuelling his actions. His breaths become louder and you even hear a gentle moan from him.

"Fuck~" you feel him stiffen beneath you. He presses his forehead against your chest pulling you flush against him.

"I will speak to my mother and even my father. If they say no. I will come for you and only then will I fuck you and mark my name into your wet cunt so that they will have no choice but to marry us."

He kisses you again. You taste yourself on his tongue.

"You say that as if the breaking of Princess' maidenheads has not been hidden before. They could easily give me to someone who would not care."

"To that...mandianna. I tell you that idiots are highly flammable...and we ride dragons..." He kisses your exposed chest.

"I say...let them burn."

A/N: This was for the girls who dream of marrying a prince and end up falling for the misunderstood villain.

I have thought of doing another part or turning this into a mini-series at least. But for now, this is just a one-shot.

Shoutout to the Star Wars Anakin monologue that fueled me to write this anyway.

Taglist: @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dixie-elocin

[shurisneakers]

paper man

warnings: angst, no sad ending, talks of death. unedited drabble that was written in 20 minutes.

a/n: i wanted angst and couldn't find any so i did this myself. will this make it onto my masterlist? who knows. it's 11pm and i have mary by big thief playing. my cat is yelling at me and really killing the sad girl vibe i got going. why does bucky look like a used car salesman in thunderbolts. whatever. love u guys

word count: 660

“If I die tomorrow,” he starts, eyes still staring into the TV.

Your eyebrow quirks. “You're not going to die tomorrow. We're going bowling.”

“If I die tomorrow,” Bucky repeats, and you know he's not with you. He's wandering around the morning fog and thickets of his mind, arm stuck out while he meanders inside a labyrinth.

It's late. He's right on time. You know from experience that his thoughts don't belong to him after the sun sets.

“I���” he begins, and then his mouth clamps shut again.

From across the couch, you shoot him a glance that hopefully conveys understanding. Fast food wrappers litter the worn leather, hurdles between the both of you.

“I don't have a will,” he finally manages to get out.

You let out an exhale, soft.

“Let's make one now?” you offer.

Through his mist, he looks at you. Eyes the way it would be if you tried staring into the sun. Mouth tired, shoulders so low it sinks into dirt.

“I'll write it on my phone. We can do something about it in the morning,” you continue.

Bucky turns back to the TV, and the mindless chatter of late night commercials fills in the silence you leave in your wake.

He could die tomorrow. So could you. So could everyone you knew. It was an occupational hazard you thought he'd made his peace with.

Your phone lies beside you, and you're honestly a little embarrassed that your suggestion was shot down.

Most days you don't know what he needs. Admittedly, he doesn't either. Sometimes slow kisses with his back pressed up against the headboard does the trick. Other days….well, you don't know. He never lets you see those.

You can't blame him. What you both had with each other found a description in the quiet and the twilight. You hadn't even really spent the night in his room.

“I don't have anythin’ to leave,” his voice comes out like gravel, snapping you out of the pit you wanted to dig yourself. “That's the thing. If I die tomorrow, I don't have anythin' to my name. Nothin’ that matters anyway.”

His gaze shifts downward ever so slightly. If the TV wasn't illuminating his face in a pale sickly yellow, you'd see that his cheeks were burning red. His throat feels like it's folded in on itself.

“You got people to leave things for?” you ask, watching him keenly.

He catches your eye, sending a jolt through you. You shift awkwardly on the couch.

“Think so,” he says solemnly. It reads more like a question, with the way he observes you.

“Okay.” You nod. “Then we'll find you things.”

His eyebrows knit together, deepening the crease between them.

“I don't know where to start.” His words sound raw, like a croak.

You watch his head duck again. His body is stiff, and he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.

You look around the room, but your eyes land on the paper remains of your dinner. A thought crossed your mind, and you hesitate.

Bucky is too busy trying to see through thick trees and fog. It stretches above him so tall, taking away even what little sunlight crawls through the leaves.

The couch dips next to him and he's snapped out his labyrinth for a second.

Your hand is held out for his. It comes so naturally that he doesn't even remember stretching his palm out to meet yours.

You drop a tiny paper man onto his metal hand. It's twisted together from a napkin and its mangled limbs are uneven.

“Just a place to start,” you tell him softly.

Bucky stares at it while you inch back to your place.

While you shift the channel to something less repetitive and tedious, his fingers wrap around the origami project.

The fog fades in the light of the morning. The trees look a little less daunting.

He's got people to leave things for.

And a tiny paper man.

[aclowntiny]

Hi!!! Could you do a reaction of ATEEZ's S/O kissing their cheeks just to prove the other member that they can make the member blush in less than minute?

I LOVE THIS!!! Yes I can & will it shall be my honor & pleasure 😌😆 hopefully you enjoy me running away with the scenario in a few of them hehe~ (The way I was listening to SOAD while writing this 😂)

Ateez + Kisses to Prove You Can Make Them Blush (Gender Neutral Reader)

Hongjoong

The moment you lean in, he’s leaning back a bit. Not that he doesn’t want you to kiss him, it’s just, well…

“Not in front of the guys!”

Stifling a chuckle, you just pull him in, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek, then one more to the other side. You pull back, admiring his gorgeous features for a moment with a smile before starting a full retreat. You know Hongjoong. If he isn’t already flushed by the initial embarrassment, this’ll get him. Sure enough, contrary to his reaction, the moment you start to leave, fingers sliding gently back down his cheeks and under his chin, he catches them in his.

“Oh?” You feign surprise.

“At least give me a real kiss,” Hongjoong chides, but you know he’s not truly annoyed by the amusement in his eyes and smirk on his lips.

“Alright,” you reply with a shrug, fingers returning to their moments-old grip as you yanked him into your lips.

The kiss is short but forceful, and you can feel Hongjoong restraining from getting any messier because, well, the guys. As you finally let go of him, you smile at the angelic look he gives you, running a hand through your hair quickly.

“Thank you.”

“No,” he chuckles, “thank you.”

“No,” you say back, holding out your hand to Wooyoung, who is beside himself yelling and mock-retching about having to watch that whole display even as he places the cash in your hand, “thank you for paying for our date tonight.”

Hongjoong just shakes his head. “You little devil.”

Seonghwa

The moment your lips hit his cheek, his eyelashes flutter shut in contentment. Time to hold this little bet? Perfect. Seonghwa was already in an extra good mood. You kiss his other cheek, traveling down from your boyfriend’s lovely cheekbone to smooch adjacent to his lips.

He giggles lightly, tilting his head to receive your kisses before he pulls away, angling himself to give you a few of his own. This time, you smile as his lips attack your face, familiar warmth gracing the gentle curve of your skin.

“I have to return the favor, you know,” he whispers before turning his affection to the other side.

“I do know,” you giggle, delivering the killing blow, “you’re so cute. The cutest.”

“Ah, hehe, I-” Seonghwa stammers a bit as you flutter your eyelashes innocently, cheek still angled his way, and with that, his cheeks begin to darken.

"See? That had to have been, like, thirty seconds!"

"Thirty-seven," Mingi corrected, holding his phone out, screen displaying the paused timer facing you.

"That's still under a minute! Now you have to do Seonghwa's laundry!"

"Wait," Seonghwa pouted, "this was just for some sort of bet?"

"Don't be sad," you attempted to soothe him, rubbing your cheek against his as your arms wrapped around Seonghwa's middle, "I enjoyed it and you've won a week's free laundry service."

Chuckling, Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow. "You could have bet anything and you told him to do my laundry?"

"M-hm," you hummed in agreement, "you deserve a break, and I don't think he does enough of that stuff."

He kissed the top of your head. "We really are perfect for each other."

Yunho

"Yunho!" With a running start, you leapt into your boyfriend's arms; he reached out at the last minute to catch you, dropping down a bit with the sudden weight than rising immediately back to a standing position. You wrapped your legs around his torso, leaving him reaching out to hold underneath your thighs.

"What's this about, hm?" He was smiling affectionately at you, giving you that 'I've won the jackpot' look, but no blush.

Dang, you thought the legs bit would get him. Very well. "My big strong man," you cooed, trying to embarrass him.

He chuckled at your words, then tensed as you suddenly planted a big, dramatic kiss on his cheek. He turned his head in response and you obliged, loosening your grip on his back a bit to run your hand up and down the line of his spine. You turn to press your lips to the other side, this time toning down the silliness and taking your sweet time. Finally as you pulled away, he held his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. You reached up to caress his cheek, smiling surely as wide as he was.

"Alright, alright, you're both blushing. Sheesh."

"What's he talking about?" Yunho asked quietly, gaze not leaving yours despite Jongho's voice behind him.

"You didn't tell him about the bet?" Jongho snickered.

"Didn't need to," you replied, finally tearing your eyes from Yunho's long enough to give Jongho a smug look, patting your boyfriend's warm cheek.

"Ugh, fine, tell me what you guys want next time I'm out."

"What's going on?" Yunho inquired once again.

"I bet him I could make you blush in less than a minute so now we get free coffee!" You replied brightly.

"Well, even if we lost, I'd have felt rewarded."

You giggled both at Yunho's words and Jongho's amused, yet exasperated scoff.

Yeosang

Was working up to it the best strategy? Well, you'd find out, you supposed, your hand reaching up to the table's surface to rest atop Yeosang's. He paused long enough to give a little eye smile, unsuspecting, then returned to getting your afternoon tea poured. When he slid your cup toward you, you tightened your grip on his hand.

"Thank you, Yeosang," you peered at him through your eyelashes before rapidly pecking his cheek. Once again, he smiled, but nothing else, and you hadn't counted the passing time, so escalation seemed necessary. You kissed his cheek again and again.

"Are you trying to distract me?" He asked, tone half cheeky, half legitimately questioning, his eyes narrowing slightly at your little smile.

"I dunno, is it working?" You asked innocently, fingers of the hand that lie on top of his intertwining with his.

He held your hand up, palms pressed together as he played lightly with your fingers, this time taking his turn to lean closer to you. "What are you trying to distract me from, hm-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, which he immediately responded to, hand tightening around yours. As your lips moved in conjunction, you felt warmth pooling against your cheeks, which weren't so cold either. Pulling away, you rubbed your nose against his, taking in his wide, stunning smile.

"Dang, fifty seconds." San and Wooyoung peered down at their phones, the screens of which both displayed variations of fifty seconds and some-odd miliseconds.

"That," you jerked your head toward your duo of friends, belatedly answering Yeosang's question.

Your boyfriend pulled away, a faraway look in his eyes that slowly drifted into faint disgust. "Why were you making them time our kiss?"

"No," you giggle, "they weren't, just seeing if I could make you blush in a minute. Now they have to wear something stupid in the airport next time."

"Well, that more than makes up for it, then," Yeosang says, eyes drifting mischievously toward his besties.

San

"He blushes so easily," Seonghwa whines, "can't we make it thirty seconds?"

"No take backs!" You singsong, waving a dismissive hand at your friend. "You said make Sannie blush in a minute or less and I get to test out my manicure kit on you!"

"Well, at least it wasn't face paint," Seonghwa shrugs in resignation, "nails aren't so bad. As long as you don't do any weird colors."

"No promises," you tease just to get a rise out of him before sneaking into the kitchen where San was standing.

There the object of your affections stood, completely oblivious to the metaphorical target on his back, just filling a glass of water at the sink without a care in the world. Bingo.

You went up behind him, arms sliding around his waist and reaching up so your hands moved toward his chest. Both of you love back hugs, so you felt San melt into the embrace as you hummed contentedly, lips fluttering over his cheek lightly. Lowering his head, he rested it protectively over yours as you kissed him, muttering a "What's this?" and an "I love you" in practically the same breath.

"I love you too, Sannie," you cooed, smiling at his sweet words and the heat you could feel rising to greet your touch.

"Alright, yeah, I'm done for, I can see his ears are all red. What color do you want to do?" Seonghwa interrupted your moment.

"What's he talking about?" San asked as his arms rested over yours.

"Nothing that's important right now," you answered as you settled into him.

Mingi

“Why did we make this bet? We’re going to lose.” Yeosang’s very blunt observation rang through your ears as his head turned away from you and back toward Yunho, arms crossed matter-of-factly.

“In under a minute, though?” Yunho shot back.

“A minute is a long time,” you shot back with a grin.

“See?” Yeosang lamented as you sauntered over to Mingi, who had conveniently just entered the room just as the bet was sealed.

“What’s a minute a long time f- oh. Oh!” Before he could say any more you were on him, attacking his face with kisses. Your hands reached up to caress his cheeks and turn his head to give you access as you made your travels, which your beloved rapper never made a single objection to. In fact, you dared say he encouraged it if the way his one hand snaked onto you to draw circles on your back said anything.

Whether it was your own body heat against his or something of Mingi’s own, you could already feel warmth brewing beneath your lips as he giggled. The sound spurred you on as you kissed his nose, then made your way back down, heading for his lips...

“Ok, pass! Pass, (y/n), he’s already red, jeez!” Yeosang held up his hands, waving in defeat. "I told you this was a stupid bet, Yunho."

The other tall man just shrugged. "At least it's not that much money."

You turned and looked at him with a victorious smirk. “Ok, cool. Glad you think so. Pay up.” Holding out your free hand, you gripped Mingi’s chin with the other, continuing to kiss your boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Honestly, you were a bit uncertain about the whole bet- surely Yeosang had a reason to feel so confident? And Wooyoung was pretty bold, would he blush easily? Maybe not.

No matter what the outcome, you'd signed up to test it, and you couldn't totally complain about that if it meant trying some stuff that might work on Wooyoung. Even in loss you'd have some fun, you reminded yourself.

You found your boyfriend in his room, organizing some stuff on his shelf, and as you said his name his head snapped up instantly. "Darling! Need anything?"

"You," you replied, knowing corny stuff worked pretty well on him. With that, you crossed the room, pulling him into an embrace from the side.

"Well, alright then, good afternoon to you, too," he replied with a grin.

You started kissing down his cheek, which had yet to redden when he turned his head, tapping a finger on the other side in silent request for you to even him out. Chuckling, you leaned in and obliged, covering his whole face in kisses. When you finished, he pointed to his neck, taking full advantage of your purported affectionate mood. Sighing, you kissed down his neck, too, peering upward to see if his ears or cheeks looked red. He just smiled, trailing a finger down his chest.

"Don't push it," you teased, giving him a playful shove. You accidentally caught him off-guard, though, sending him off balance and scrambling, ultimately tumbling back onto his bed.

He looked down as if he didn't know what was beneath him, then back up at you in surprise, eyebrows practically disappearing into his hairline. "Oh?" Now his cheeks were getting red. Why was he like this?

"I- I-" You stuttered, voice failing you in favor of a sigh as your face fell into your hand.

"Ok, that was fifty seconds. I'm sorry for both of us," Yeosang muttered, showing you his timer, handing you some cash, and turning on his heels to leave. "Have fun explaining this one."

Jongho

You slid next to your boyfriend on the couch, bringing a smile to his face at your presence.

"Bored?" He asked as you snuggled closer into his side.

"Hm, a little, but I think I know how we can fix that," you reply, posing with a finger to your chin in mock-thought.

"Oh yeah?" Jongho lifted one arm too give you greater access, draping it casually across your shoulders when you got settled. "How?"

"This is how," you wasted no time in replying, eyes briefly scanning Jongho's lovely, handsome face before closing the remaining space between you two.

You could tell by the way he leaned he expected you to kiss his lips, which you knew he preferred, but your initial goal was a bit different. You kissed his cheek, suppressing laughter as he leaned away slightly, one eyebrow raised in confusion. With just a faint chuckle, you kissed the other cheek.

"What's gotten into you?" That's all he says as you pull away, sure he'd red by now. Not quite, it seems, and you're sure you are from trying not to laugh.

"Where's mine?" You ask, pouting slightly.

"Wh- what are you talking about?" His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, a faint blush finally dusting his cheeks.

"One second," you told him, placing a finger across his lips in a 'shush' gesture as you rose from the couch, leaving him with a furrowed look of confusion as you sat up and peered over the back cushions, "what's my time?"

"I started kinda early."

"Hey!" You complained, grabbing a pillow to threaten Hongjoong with.

Ateez's captain immediately put his hands, one of which held his phone, up in surrender. "But it still came out to fourty-three seconds! You win!"

You lowered the pillow, tucking it back into the corner a few inches from your feet. "Good. Then pay up."

"Alright," Hongjoong reluctantly agreed, his classic impish smile decorating his face, "but only because you two are so cute."

That time, he did get hit with a pillow square in the shoulder, but it was Jongho who threw it.

[mouschiwrites]

hello!

hopefully requests are open rn, but just in case...

Can I request the Ninjas with a shy reader? Like someone who gets flustered really easily, doesn't know how to properly ask for affection, can't order for themselves at a restaurant, ect.

I think this is a really cute trope and I love seeing it in writing!

Oh I totally agree!! As a shy person myself I never get tired of seeing this trope hehe <3

Ninjago - Ninjas With a Shy s/o

Jay

I don't think you'll have to worry about asking for affection with him

If anything, you'll have to worry about asking for some space

Jay's super affectionate when it comes to romance, and he gets so lost in his loverboy haze that he won't see your "stop" signs unless you express them explicitly

But he does love seeing you all flustered

For him it's a sign that his love is getting to you (in a good way!)

He gets the biggest grin when he can make you blush, and he practically melts when you avert your gaze bashfully

"Aww, look at you being all shy. You're adorable."

Probably pinches your cheek too, that corny dude (we still love him though <3)

Jay can also be pretty anxious when it comes to social situations, but that goes out the window when it comes to you

Definitely will do the "excuse me they asked for no pickles!! >:(" thing, just for you <33

And he does NOT tolerate other people making you shy

As soon as he notices you're blushing or looking away because of someone else, he's at your side in an instant helping you escape the situation

totally not because he's jealous

Zane

He thinks it's cute that you're shy :)

He loves the way your cheeks turn pink when he complements you, or the way you fiddle nervously when you don't know what to say

You're so adorable to him

Whenever he manages to fluster you a bit, he gets a little grin and does an internal happy dance

But if he flusters you too much he feels bad

He doesn't want to actually breach any boundaries with you

But he's usually careful about that, keeping the affection pretty light so you don't get embarrassed (but he still gives you enough that you know he loves you <3)

Unfortunately that means that you're going to have to work up some real courage if you want something more

I feel like he's got this duality when it comes to social situations...

On the one hand, he has no trouble standing up for the ones he loves (you) when they need it

He'll totally step up for you when the time comes

But at the same time he's a little shy himself, and he's not going to do anything too drastic

Like if someone is making you uncomfortable, he'll just tug your sleeve and give you the "let's get out of here" look

Kai

He also thinks it's super cute that you're shy

But I feel like he'd also encourage you to stand up for yourself more often

He LOVES making you flustered though

It's just so easy

One wink and you're red as a firetruck... but he likes to get more creative than that

Compliments and pda galore man,,, someone stop this fiend

He does it because yes, it does make you all shy and that's adorable, but also because he wants you to build a tolerance to it (if that makes sense)

He wants you to become at least a little less shy, only for your own benefit

He's happy to stand up for you, or ask you what you need instead of you having to bring it up yourself, but what he'd really love is for you to have some initiative

The first time you compliment him back, or order your own food, he is OVER THE MOON

You thought he was affectionate before? Be prepared for a whole new level of love when he gets all proud like that

He still thinks it's cute when you get shy though, so he's not going to change you completely

Mans just wants you to have a bit more confidence!

Because you're amazing and you deserve that much at least 😤

Cole

He's chill with you being shy

Yes, he thinks it's cute, but he also recognizes it as a potential problem in your relationship

Not in a "something we might break up over" way though!! I must emphasize this!!

More in a "something I need to be conscious about" way

Like, he knows that you struggle sometimes, so he'll try to compensate :)

He'll ask you if you want affection, or just give it to you when he thinks you need it

He's already walking in front of you when you approach the fast food counter, ready to order for you

And in social situations he offers his hand for you to hold, not only for anxiety but so that you don't get separated

He doesn't mind doing any of this one bit btw :)

If anything, he sees it as a way to prove his love for you

But he's also not going to make a big deal about it or hold it over your head or anything

He does all of it as if it's the most casual thing in the world, and the longer you're together, that only becomes more true

Ofc he'd love to see you gain some confidence, but he's also totally fine being your social shield and advocate :)

Lloyd

Definitely teases you about how shy you are (specifically about how you get so cute when you're shy)

Never mind that he is also pretty shy

Literally all you have to do when he's teasing you is say "you're one to talk" and he's just like:

But on a different note, he does like making you blush :)

He thinks it's cute when you get a little shy, but like Kai he also wants to see you gain a little confidence

His method is different though... prepare for a shower of affection and hype work

Always spends at least two minutes gushing about how gorgeous you are before going out

Dw, he waits for you to stop blushing before you actually go in public

But he makes you agree with him

"You're gorgeous!! Look in the mirror! No, seriously, look. Look how stunning you are!"

And you'll just get a shy grin, giving a little nod

Insecurity? not on his watch

And when you need to confront someone he'll do it, but he makes you come along

He'll hold your hand if you like though :)

Nya

NYA LOVES HER SHY S/O!!!

no im not just saying this because im shy and i want her to love me

She loves being able to stand up for you, being your big strong gf <3

She practically jumps at the opportunity to protect you in social situations

Not to the point that she's overprotective, but you'll definitely feel her eyes on you when you get separated

And she also tries to stay in tune with your implied feelings, since you struggle to express them explicitly

She'll test the waters with remarks like "anything... frustrating happen today?" when she thinks you're mad, or "man, I don't know about you, but I could really use some cuddles..." when she thinks you need affection

She tries to open up opportunities like that for you; whether you take them or not is up to you

But she might get pushy if she's convinced about something, asking more direct questions like "okay, be serious with me: what's wrong?"

She'll make you look at her when you reply

She'll always understand your feelings, but what she doesn't understand is you hiding them from her

You'll have to learn to be a lot more candid and upfront (at least with her) when you date her

She's fine when you're shy in public, and even when you're shy in private to an extent, but what she won't tolerate is you closing yourself off from her

She just wants to know how you're feeling so she knows how to help :(

Thank you so much for this request, I had a lot of fun with this one hehe! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

[makethatelevenrings]

well since you've got me thinkin' of the bats again,

what do you think their Oh Shit moment would be? Like that single moment where they realise This Is It? Cuz I can't stop thinking about it. Like imagine just sitting in the living room with Jason on a lazy day and you turn and he's kinda just staring at you with this lovesick look and you ask whats up and he just shakes his head and looks away smiling like an idiot cuz ah shit, this is the life he wants.

Or or or you're out grocery shopping or smth with Bruce and it kinda hits him somewhere through the point of entering the store and picking up 5 different cereal boxes that he genuinely wants this forever and ever

and ahhhhh like this could go so angsty but also so sweet?

ANYWAY I REALLY LIKE YOUR WRITING IT MAKES ME HAPPY

<3

Ok ok I thought about this the entire drive home!!!!

Bruce - the two of you are visiting an orphanage that’s Wayne Enterprises is interested in funding (in reality, he’s investigating them for embezzling funds and child abuse). You came as Wayne’s dazzling arm piece to draw more press, but he knew you were much more than tabloid fodder. You couldn’t care less about listening to the director drone on and on about how much he was doing (read: not doing) and when a small hand tugs on the hem of your pants, you immediately kneel on the dirt stained floor and give the child your full, undivided attention. You nod along, ask questions, and make the child feel as though they’re special. You show them that someone cares. Bruce watches this with his heart pounding in his chest. He remembers a time when a young orphan was ignored by the world unless they were able to manipulate him and use him for their own agenda, to make themselves look good. He realizes with a jolt that you see him. You see the orphan boy in the alley, the broken man in the cape, and the actor in his suit. You see all of him and you give him your whole attention. Oh.

Dick - For you, it’s just an offhanded comment made as the two of you walk through the crowded streets of Bludhaven. “There’s a halal market on the next street. Can we stop and grab Damian some gulab jamun and namoura? He’s been stressing over his grades recently and I know it’s not much, but hopefully it’ll cheer him up.” A bolt of warmth strikes through his chest as he realizes that you’ve memorized Damian’s favorite desserts. You researched halal foods and the local markets. You checked in on Damian, listened to his frustrations, and read his tells better than anyone. He recalls how you’ve made these passing remarks about all of his siblings. How long have you taken care of them in this subtle, gentle way of yours? He laces his fingers with yours, lays a kiss to your temple, and lets you lead the way to the market.

Jason - The sun that slips through the linen curtains Alfred hung up one day bathes Jason in a delicate glow. He reclines on the couch, your head on his chest and legs tangled together, with a book in his hand. You’re half asleep but he whispers the words he reads regardless. How long has it been since he felt this relaxed? Your soft breaths release in little puffs that tickle the skin of his wrist, but he refuses to move. He doesn’t want to wake you up. He wants to lay in this position for the rest of his life. He wants to be with you for the rest of time, until the scythe of death comes calling for him once more, and he places himself between you and the Grim Reaper.

[gayerthanevertbh]

damaged heart.

pairings: scarlett johansson x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist  

summary: you saw your girlfriend kissing her husband at the red carpet, and you knew that everything was over. 

request: Hey, if your requests are open, could I please request an angsty Scarlett Johansson x reader fic? Scarlett and her husband in Cannes have inspired this, especially with the video of her kissing him on the red carpet. Could you maybe write a fic where R is Scarlett’s ex and Scarlett always hid her and never showed her off so when R sees Scarlett and her new husband at Cannes being all affectionate with their PDA, R is pissed as hell! Scarlett and R meet and get into it, lots of fighting! Thank you :)

warnings: heavy angst, toxic!scarlett, manipulation, fighting, makeup sex (super brief), and just pure angst.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: did my best to write this one! i added a little twist :) hopefully you enjoy this, anon!

You were distressed.

A video of your alleged girlfriend, Scarlett, has gone viral on the internet. She kissed her husband, John Doe, and held his hand as they walked across the carpet. At first, you assumed it was some sort of publicity stunt, nothing out of the ordinary. But you knew it was something else when you looked into Scarlett's eyes.

That was how she looked at you the first time she met you.

You jumped out of your chair and walked around the kitchen, looking for the nearest bottle of red wine. Unfortunately, you ran out of wines in your home with Scarlett because she kept drinking them. You weren't an alcoholic, and you only drank once a week, but you needed one right now. To destress.

She’ll be home in any minute, you thought. And once she’s home, you tell her that you are done with her.

After a few hours, you've packed your belongings and prepared to leave the humble abode. You looked at your bedroom with her, exhaling softly. You and she shared good times and memories that you will never forget. They were all at peace, full of love, and sincere. When you looked over to the other side of the wall, you noticed two framed photos of you and Scarlett. The memories were pleasant, but you can no longer remain anonymous.

You needed to be more than a secret; you needed to be loved in public, and not just for the people who needed it; you needed to be able to hold their hands and kiss them in public.

Which you never got from her.

Scarlett agreed to marry John because it would be good for her reputation and you didn't want to jeopardize her career. But as soon as she did, you began to feel increasingly insecure, as if you no longer mattered to her. You desired and required her, but you could never have her.

“Y/n? I’m home.”

You walked out of the bedroom and watched her drop her bag, making her way towards you as she gave you a haste kiss on the lips, holding the back of your neck. You kissed her for a while, mending your lips together as if this was going to be the last time you’ll be with her – which is something that you never thought would happen. When she pulled away, her thumb rubbed your cheek, smiling softly at you.

“I’m home,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

You nodded, smiling back but it was brief. “We need to talk, Scarlett.”

Her smile dropped as you said those words, but none of the less, she nodded in agreement.

"Of course," she said as she drew you on the couch, forcing you to sit beside her with her calloused palms on both of your hands. "What's the matter, darling? Are you okay–”

“I saw those videos online of you and your husband kissing.”

“Oh.”

Her voice deflected, and her eyes started to get darker each second she stared at you. You know she felt guilty the minute you said that, but you couldn’t hold them back – you needed your voice, you needed to be heard, and it’s not going to happen if you won’t speak up. You felt proud of yourself for a minute, feeling a little vain if that even matters, but you looked away from her eyes as you stared to the ground.

“I don’t–” you hesitated for a moment before you continued your statement. “I don’t think this is going to work out anymore, Scarlett.”

She nodded vaguely, but didn’t understand what you meant by that.

“D-Do you want us to have a break for a day? We don’t have to talk about it–”

“That’s the thing with you,” you let out a sarcastic laugh, wiping your tears away from your eyes with the palm of your hand. You sniffled, “You say we should break up but I end up going back to you, and whenever I would do that you’d hurt me.”

"It's not like I have a choice in this, Y/n," she scoffed, shaking her head. "Do you expect me to do anything about it? You knew what you were getting into, and you deliberately agreed to be with me like this. Darling, I have a job. I'm doing this so that we can live a normal life."

"We could have a normal life away from the spotlight," you say, chewing your inner left cheek. "Y-You said you'd take a year off and devote your time to me."

“You’re just jealous.”

You wanted to leave the moment she said those words.

It was your turn to scoff. “Yes, of course, I’m jealous.”

“And you shouldn’t be,” she said with a deeper voice, her tone straining. “You shouldn’t be because I love you.”

“How do I know that you love me?”

“I gave you that promise ring, didn’t I?” Scarlett said. “Wasn’t that enough? I kept you here in my home, giving all my love for you, isn’t that enough?”

“Of course, it is!” you exclaimed, standing up from the couch as you crossed your arms tightly around your stomach. “But sometimes I would want you to hold my hand in public, kiss me in public, or maybe just show a little affection to me in public! I tried my best to understand you, to be with you in any situation, but this is getting harder for me every day, Scarlett.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

You sighed loudly and shook your head. You wanted all of her, and you wanted her to want all of you - that's all you've ever wanted, for her to want you that way.

“I just want you to love me the way you love your husband.”

She laughed and stood up, pinching her nose bridge as she yelled: “You fucking think I love my husband?!”

"Yes!" you yelled, throwing your hands in the air as she stared at you blankly. “I think you’re in love with him!”

"You're fucking insane," Scarlett mumbled, shaking her head and exhaling through her nose. “I do not fucking love him, I love you!”

“How do I know that?”

“By giving you everything you want!”

“I don’t want luxurious stuff,” you scrunched your eyebrows together, knowing that this is what she meant – she thinks you want the jewelries, the rich lifestyle, and the rich actress. “I don’t want you giving me everything that I don’t need, I just want you! I want my girlfriend!”

“Y/n, I am yours!” her nose starts to flare as her face started to turn red from anger, you weren’t sure why she was upset with you. She always does this, making herself look like a victim. “And you’re mine, all mine. I want you more than you want me, I love you more than you love me. So please, can we not fight tonight? I just want to be home with you.”

"I'm not going to stay here any longer," you cut her off. She stares at you with wide eyes and obvious tears in her eyes, but you couldn't take your gaze away from those orbs. You wiped your nose while wrapping your cardigan around your waist. "I'll be returning to my sister and will be far away from you."

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am,” you whispered, turning around as you watched the empty road. “I don’t want to be with you anymore, Scarlett.”

The older woman sighed, knowing she could lose you at any moment - and she couldn't handle it.

“You're being such a child right now."

“I don't know about that one."

“Y/n,” she growled, her tone getting deeper than ever. “Stay with me.”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“You don’t fucking mean that!” Scarlett grabs your waist as she turns you around, slamming you against the wall as you let out a choking sob. “Do not fucking cry in front of me, don’t ever do that! You’re mine, you understand me? You’re fucking mine and you will never leave me.”

“Scarlett–” you let out a trembling breath, trying to push her body away from you, but she was too strong. “Let me go, please. I just want to leave.”

Scarlett shook her head, pressing her lips against yours forcefully as she tries to insert her tongue into your mouth, holding your neck with her strong hands. You and her made out for a bit, letting your tongues grazed at one another before you could feel her spit into your mouth. She kisses you sloppily, feeling your saliva all over your chin.

She pulled away breathlessly. “Stay,” she whispers, letting out a sob. “Just stay, okay? Please stay. I love you, I’ll do everything for you. I’m just trying to protect you–”

"You're protecting yourself," you muttered, your gaze fixed on hers. Your words made her cry, but you didn't seem to mind. You just wanted to go home. “In the next 20 years, I'll always be your mistress, and I'm more than that. You never respected me. If you truly loved me, you wouldn't get into a relationship and be as controlling as you are. As if you aren't a hypocrite, Johansson. Maybe I'm the villain here, but you're the beginning of everything.”

“You’re just saying that,” she stutters, her tears falling more freely on her face. “You know that I love you and how deeply I am in love with you; why are you saying this?”

“Because you didn’t love me,” you said. "You were just enamored with the idea of having someone as your mistress, fucking them in your bed until they pass out into your arms, and then leaving them the next day like they didn't exist. That’s how you treat me, Scarlett. You treat me like some kind of fucking animal that needs to be fed, and you feed me with poison. You make me sick, you make me feel unloved by you, and every day I have to put up with that.”

“Y/n–”

“You continue to manipulate me, to dupe me into having sex with you, and then you abandon me as if I don't exist." I've been in love with you for the past two years. I didn't meet the real you until you married someone. The real Scarlett Johansson, and she is possessive as hell.”

"I love you," she exclaimed as she cupped your face tightly in her hands. “I love you! Stop this, stop hurting me…”

“Let me go before I let everyone know that you have a mistress in your house.”

"You're not a mistress to me," she said, greedily kissing your lips. "You're more than that, you're my girlfriend, the love of my life. Everything I do is for you, I’m trying to protect you and to protect us! All I ever did was to protect you, and it seems like you’re ignorant of it," she mumbled into your wet mouth.

“You neglected me for a long time, especially with my feelings. Whenever I’d bring up how I feel when we are in public, you’d start to walk away from the conversation. I’m tired of this cycle, I can’t do this anymore! Please, just let me go. Please?”

Scarlett made love to you that night. She spends the entire time kissing your body, worshipping you as she fucks you into her mattress, begging for you not to leave her. You were almost convinced by her words, but at the end of the day you needed to go and be free.

And to be loved properly.

So that’s what you did the next morning, you left her alone in her bed.

[ov105]

Express Moon

Never have I written anything where I switched leads so many times. It’s depicted as a quickie, but it’s writing process was anything but. I just had too many ladies that fit what happens when you read more. That being said, I’m probably taking a bit of a break, I still have ideas, but I need some time to flesh them out to begin writing.

Hopefully, this would do good despite the hectic changes that I did.

2,938 words of Jo Yuri. 

Enjoy!

Rubbing my forehead, I slammed my laptop down. The audible thud left me thinking I couldn't take this shit any longer. Grumbling, I decided to plop down on the couch and sleep it off. Hopefully, I'll return feeling like doing my tasks instead of giving my monitor a fistful. I also hoped, for about the second I looked outside, that it was just the storm making me moody.

Lying on the couch, I didn't want to turn on the TV. Reading anything but social media to not further my stress, I was already beginning to entertain the thought of eating the ramyeon or just going to sleep. It was neither of those.

Hearing the four beeps of the keypad lock shook me awake. It was Yuri, and she had only a slightly better disposition than I.

"Bad day?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she lightly nodded.

Sitting on the couch, Yuri put her backpack beside mine and snuggled beside me. She was getting lost in her world—through her phone—beside me. All I knew was she was reading another book on it.

Having moved to dorms just a train ride closer to campus, the only thing that separated us was an elevator ride. It was an open secret between our friend groups, which despite their best efforts, couldn't bust us. And I thought they were better than Dispatch. However, we agreed that we were in too deep at this rate. Yuri crashed into my place more often than she should, often only leaving to sleep in her bed. But besides that, she wasn't a menace either, if only that meant having to eat somewhat less.

But then, she gave me an idea of what she was thinking.

Yuri's left hand snuck down my shirt, dropping subtlety as she slipped in under my shorts and grabbed onto my shaft. Slowly massaging it, I could just imagine the silent giggle on her face.

"Yuri."

I called out, and she just turned to me. Grin on her face. Trying to beat her to it, I knew refusing a hot-blooded 21-year-old was a bad idea. I also needed something to take me off of things.

"On the floor," I pointed.

Yuri stood up, turned around, and pulled her shirt off herself. Wearing a black bra, I knew she matched it with her panties, proving myself right when she unbuttoned her pants—knowing that it was my favorite color of her underwear, one that made her blush when I had complimented her wearing it.

"Couldn't you wait until after dinner?" I asked.

"Dinner can wait."

She knelt without removing the rest, stripping me down until she was right before what she wanted. Barely able to count to ten from throwing my clothes away, opening my legs, and now licking my cock, already halfway erect, in its length before wrapping her lips around it. Her fingers came around like a ring on the base, cradling my balls as her mouth propped them up. Having confessed to liking the feeling of my cock becoming hard as her tongue worked around it. Closing her eyes, pulling her pace a bit, sucking with her lips and relishing it as her tongue cradled it, letting the soft tissues flood with blood, hardening into solid flesh that began striking her palate at every stroke.

As she held her hair up in a ball, I felt her throat starting to constrict a bit as it struck the back of her mouth, making it seem Yuri was wavering. However, she wasn't one to ruin her surprises too early. Spontaneity was more of my thing. Deciding to double down or pull her mouth back could only tell me if we were having sex. She did the latter, leaving my shaft hard and wet as her lips drew circles around the tip. On some days, she decided to play me longer, and this was one of those days.

Giving herself a better grip, she then pulled away. Only using her tongue, licking my cock, stroking it when she wanted to, and sometimes letting the saliva drip down her lips. Her eyes gave me that stare, far from blank or mindless, but told me all I needed to know; she just wanted to give me a blowjob that bad.

Having small, perfectly shaped lips for a blowjob, The way she had me, quite literally, on a tight grip that only her vagina could match. Grazing her lips along one side and her tongue down the other end before keeping it at the tip.

"You like it sloppy, right?" Yuri asked.

I meant to answer, but instead, an approving smirk formed on my lips.

"Alright."

Just then, she caged the tip, played around with it, and then dove down halfway. A loud slurp followed her mouth as she looped, then back down again, a messy slurping following as she rose back up. Opening her mouth at times just to see my cock appear and disappear back into it, again and again. The saliva she was carelessly putting everywhere now gave her all the leverage she needed over me. My cock, now frozen solid in her hands, the tip having glossed over from how much she licked it, the wick, her lusting mouth being the matchstick that had lit it just minutes ago.

A bobbing motion came over her as she closed her eyes and gently craned her neck, not too fast, not too slow. Just fitting enough to fit the crosshairs of what defined a perfectly sloppy blowjob. Maybe not, just biting my lip every time a shock came up from below and a twitch from watching her.

And even when she was at her sluttiest, she was still gentle enough not to play dirty, and when she had control—we were in each other's grip—it was odd to think of thrusting my hips now.

One, two, three; gawk, gawk, gawk.  

That was the sequence Yuri took. Seeing her small face bouncing so dirtily on my cock left me with few words nor synonyms to describe it.

Feeling her throat tightening up as it struck it, now that she was more daring, she didn't seem to mind. It was, however, not unusual to see her trying to fight her gagging on my cock, stopping for a bit before continuing. When she pulled back, I saw her lips trailing from saliva on my shaft or a string of spit from my head when she pulled away. And when she was sucking away, the feeling of her warm saliva trickling down my balls, onto her fingers, and then the couch.

Being her idea of a quickie, she skipped the corkscrewing and teasing to make sure I kept my load to myself. What she didn't know, whatever, was that I liked it more when she wasn't rushing. One thing she did, particularly when she was enjoying herself, was slip a finger inside her panties.

She was only using her mouth, her right hand resting on my thigh, with her left hand's fingers on my groin, still where she had them earlier. By this point, my cock was wet enough, with Yuri slobbering away. Taking a natural rhythm as her fingers slid between her folds, her head began to tilt left and right as she slowed down further. It was almost as if this was just one of her dreams when she was alone with herself.

A minute later, Yuri gagged. Pull back. She got carried away again. Just as she was about to wipe her lips with her hand, she caught my gaze, then, thinking for a second, licked her lips, then the side of her palm under it, wiping her drool off before she dove down on my tip again, carrying on like it was nothing to her.

It was about sending a message—malice—after all.

I didn't talk too much when she gave it to me. That was her department. Unless it was one of us getting closer, the way my expressions seemed, in her words, told her all she needed. I was an open book, for that matter, and apparently, I had let my guard down.

I just watched as she made good work of me, that for a moment, I forget I was a ticking bomb myself. Switching from using her lips and tongue, owning my cock as I presented it to her. Tightly wrapping and sucking hard, slowly but loudly, knowing we had all the time in the world, alone. Though for all her attitude, both of us only shared the kink of seeing one another trapped in pleasure, unable to run away unless we want to ruin our orgasms. 

Suddenly, she picked up her pace. A rapid guzzle replaced the slow slurping, my toes curled, and I moaned. It was an ambush from Yuri. Who looked up at me with a needy look in her eyes that told me she meant business. The same ones almost always stared at me in conversation from across the table, now expected me to blow my load down her throat. I knew better, she thought this would make me cum at that moment, as it had before, but I kept myself at bay, though just by a thin margin.

Finally, she let go, a loud pop, then a lick before she spoke again.

"You didn't cum?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Alright then, I'll help you out."

Yuri stood up with a wry smile before she unhooked her bra, then bent down, and when she rose, she was completely naked. Turning around to show her ass, she squatted down with her hand trying to find my cock. Not needing my help, she caught and stroked it a few times before sliding it between her ass and placing it right under herself. Feeling the warmth of her pussy as she poked it between her folds.

"This is what you meant by helping me out?" I teased.

Yuri didn't answer, instead flashing me a look as she let go of her hand and pushed downward. Sliding easily into her as I felt my tip poke inward, and without stopping, her moans only grew louder as the entirety of my shaft disappeared inside her. I felt myself shuddering as the squeezing of her slick walls threatened to make me cum so quickly. It never helps that we were doing this raw.

All that simply meant yes.

She placed her hands on my thighs as I did on her waist and began to ride me. Taking short hops that made sure she got used to taking me in again after a month. Throwing her head back, moaning and growling when she made her bounces longer, getting tighter by the second as we both eased into the act.

"Fuckkkk..," were the only words I could make out from Yuri as she hastened her pace. I was losing sight of her as she put her eyes off me, though what use were my eyes when she put all of me inside her. The long, slow bouncing she had grown to love in our time together was the only pace she assumed.

With another slap, Yuri then looked back at me, lip bitten. Slapping her ass as I put my hands around her hip, she asked.

"You like it fast or slow?"

"Just fast enough."

Yuri scoffed, turning away, closing her legs, and put her hands on mine. A beautiful display that, unfortunately, I was unable to see as I felt her pick up the pace. Every thrust seemed like the last as her thighs clashed with mine, taking me at full length as I began to twitch again. I felt my breathing getting heavy as I felt the familiar stiffening coming onto my hips, rendering me frozen.

Then, Yuri's orgasm came creeping in. I felt the shudder in her fingers, the shaky breaths, the shifting hips as she straightened her back. We began to lose it as we came close to cresting the edge. Being the bystander as she became more erratic, a sporadic pace replacing the controlled one I thought she could hold for longer. Trying to consider whether I should just let her loose and make either one of us cum first or tell her to turn around.

I made up my mind, and just as my lips opened to call her, nothing came out at first. By this point, she was also building up her release, like a string being pulled back by herself. I thought that, well, this was it. If she goes, so do I.

"Fuck!" Yuri cried out as she stopped, visibly shaking as she hung her head.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I-it's too good," replying as she turned around. Her face was flushed. She was probably just that close. I heard her take deep breaths before she slipped off and stood up. My cock, hard and glistening, was now uncaged, twitching, and alone, but not for long. Turning around to kneel, Yuri parted her lips, pointed it with two fingers, kissed the tip, and then took it back in. In such sensitive conditions, I balled my fist as my breath left me to shut my eyes and just hang on.

Yuri then tried to talk with my cock in her mouth. It was gibberish. She was filling her mouth with it, after all. But I could make a question out of it.

"Are you going to cum now?"

I just nodded.

I thought she was going to finish me then and there. However, I was let go. This time, Yuri straddled me. Giving her tits a suckle before I staring up at her as she eased in, catching my gaze, then giving me one deep kiss as she captured my cock and slid back down on it. Letting go only to moan as she began to ride.

Figuring that I wouldn't last much longer, she was in a squat, the position that always struck—by prior reactions—the deepest, and with how hard she was riding me, our groins already slapping. I didn't need to wonder why she was so loud.

Putting her hands on my neck, she saw me glancing out the balcony window, feeling her hand push me to face her. Giving me another peck on the lips as her fingers dug in as rebounded to the same barely controlled pace she had earlier. Pushing her stamina to the limits as I felt her pussy begin to tighten up. It was worth the expense. Having already been at the cusp of it earlier, this was just a single sprint to her climax.

I might've even heard a growl somewhere. I hissed through my teeth, not even hearing myself as Yuri became tighter, no more than a powder keg waiting to blow. Anytime now, anytime now. Her eyes were darting about, looking down at her hips, bouncing and recoiling with every stroke, throwing her head up, groaning as she shut her eyes. And when she looked at me, I felt like a bystander.

I didn't even know where she got this much endurance every time she was so close to cumming. Still, I was slipping, and my legs were shaking like hers. We exchanged cusses and fluids as our bodies began to stiffen, with her placing her hands on my thighs as she arched her back to me while I held onto her ass. I told her I was cumming, but I don't think she heard me.

I went first. I felt my shaft turn into a rod as I burst. The first few shots took my breath with them, pushed down with my arms and toes curled along as I hit the couch and swung my head back. And then, Yuri followed, letting out one final scream as she abruptly cut her pace to a halt, letting out an exhale that rose in volume into a shrill moan, her arms shaking as she bawled her fists, her hips grinding as her expression bounced between a satisfying orgasm face into a scowl as she forced herself to move and get herself over with. As both of us shot past ourselves, her choking my cock to get every last drop of it, being the way she wanted it inside her.

I then felt her hand pushing my head straight, one tired breath from her as I opened my eyes, Yuri closing in, and we put our lips together. She was putting her legs down as we were both expended, sweaty messes as our foreheads were on one another and in an embrace as we caught our breaths.

Getting off of me, she was surprised at how much cum leaked out of her. Though having done this a few times, she knew what to grab, not to make a leaking mess of herself, save for a few drops. A stain was still on her legs, of course.

"Wanna go for a second round?" Yuri asked as she wiped and crumpled the tissue.

She was just as spent, and I always seemed to fall for that ruse.

"Where?"

"In the bedroom."

"I'm hungry now," I replied. Well, who wouldn't?

"Fine, after we shower, dinner," Yuri agreed, "Though you're eating me later."

Snarky, corny, but sassy, I just rolled my eyes and nodded, though that didn't mean we weren't showering together. I just gave up hope of dinner on time with a glance at the clock on my phone. It was still relatively early, after all. Looking at her as she opened the door, she turned around, waiting on me from the door, a last chance, if you will.

I just scoffed and stood up.

[corvidcrossbow]

would you maybe write some daryl fluff? maybe reader is carols adopted daughter (20ish years old)

daryl comforting reader after henry and how carol acted in the tunnel? maybe r sees carol taking pills n stuff. idk just daryl maybe talking to carol “what about her? henry’s gone but she’s still here!” just daryl sticking up for reader and hugging her n looking after her while carols off.

~•♡•~ What One Has

➳ Summary: Following the Savior war, Carol took you and Henry in as her adoptive children. But through the events of the Whisperer war, your relationship with her became sort of estranged; at least you had Daryl looking out for you (Daryl + Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Post Whisperer war, around 10x18 + 10x21

➳ Word count: 1.9k

➳ C/W: Mentions of pike scene

➳ A/N: Ima be so fr, I struggled writing this, I think because I wasn't quite sure what direction I wanted to go but I needa stop sittin on this n I hope you like it nonetheless anon 😭🫶 Hopefully now that opening day at my job has passed I can refocus on writing (and hopefully we never have a day like that ever again cuz someone dropping and coding in front of me was not in any of my expectations 🗿)

Daryl groaned an exhale and shifted in his blankets, rolling over onto his back with a clenched fist resting on his forehead. Darkness shrouded his room in the basement, Dog curled up close to him no matter how many times he tried to ward the canine off from dirtying the plush couch by sleeping on it too.

Despite the threat of the Whisperers eliminated, and what he could only hope would be some time for rest, he didn't rest. Sleeping never proved easier no matter how many times a conflict was eased: he knew more would always follow. Especially now, where the repercussions of Alpha and her actions were so grave it shook foundations he'd prayed would stay stable.

The archer threw back his covers, picking himself from the makeshift bed and finding a shirt he'd earlier thrown aside, and a pack of cigarettes set on the edge of his workbench. He tisked at Dog, instructing him to stay while he quietly existed from the cellar, carefully ascended the stairs and opened the front door to head outside and smoke.

Closing it and throwing his head back to clear the messied hair from his face, he paused at the figure already occupying the right side of the steps. In the faint glow of moonlight, he recognized you despite your hunched posture, seemingly trying to obscure yourself.

“Why ya out ‘ere?”

“Same reason you are.”

It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew why, who this was about. It wasn't the first time he'd found you awake in the night as he was, having become an increasing commonality over the past 10 months since you moved here, and increasingly concerning.

Daryl stuffed the pack away in his pocket, coming to sit near you on the opposite end of the step, propping his elbows on his thighs. “Ya won’ talk ‘bout it?”

“It's not really gonna make a difference,” You replied, head bowed to stare at the wooden planks in front of you, twisting a loose thread you'd plucked from your jeans between your fingers.

“Could. Least yer not carryin’ it by yerself,” He tried to persuade you. Although he was guilty of doing it himself, his conscience didn't sit well with knowing those close to him were lost in their own minds like he so often was. Especially you, who he not only cared about, but had cared for. “C'mon, ‘m listening.”

You heaved an uneasy sigh, reluctantly accepting that he was right. He felt like the only person you had at this point. “I miss her.”

Daryl's head turned a bit so his gaze could flick to you then shifted back, nodding – more to himself – understandingly.

“And it's so weird because she's, what… 30 feet away from me right now? Maybe less? But she feels even further than she did when she just up and left to go on that boat.” You paused for a moment, coaching yourself through your breaths and not allowing them to grow erratic. “I thought, maybe after everything at the tower, she'd warm back up to me again. But I feel like the… thing, wore her raw, and then the blizzard froze her so solid she won't thaw back out.”

The man stayed silent, taking in your every word but knowing to speak now would halt the tracing of your thoughts; hinder you from fully opening up.

“Does she think because I'm grown it doesn't have a major effect on me? Henry wasn't just her son, he was like my brother. Families are supposed to be there for each other when you lose someone– and, and then I almost lost her too. I mean, you remember all the pills; how she never left her room. I could hear her some nights, just talking to herself. She was talking to something that wasn't real more than she talked to me!”

Now you were struggling, that choking feeling tightened around your throat and broke some of your words, mask slipping as the weight of everything started to collapse in on you just like– “And the cave. I… I'd never been more scared in my life, being in there with you guys. There's so many times I thought I was gonna die but nothing scared me like that. I still hear all the walkers sometimes, how she screamed, the sound of that dynamite going off. I still feel like I'm coated in dust just–... What was she thinking? I was right next to her. It's like I was invisible, or erased from her memory, and all she remembers is Henry.”

Daryl pulled you to him before you'd even realized you were crying, holding your stiff body against his, and through a few sobs, feeling you relax and give in. His strong arm wrapped around you was the most secure you'd felt in a long time.

“Shhh… s'alrigh’. ‘M ‘ere.” Soothing words were few and simple, but they were what you needed; the reminder that someone saw you, remembered you, and took account for your feelings in all of this.

You scooted closer to him, further tucking your head into his chest as if you were trying to finally find a moment of peace by escaping into his embrace. Daryl rubbed his palm over your shoulder, doing nothing but just being there for you.

A moment passed and you recomposed yourself to some extent, shuffling away with a sniffle while he loosened the hug. His eyes caught yours for just a second, seeing so much of himself reflected in your irises.

“Sorry, didn't mean to…” You trailed off while rubbing your face with the back of your hand, ridding the salty streaks from your skin and gesturing. You turned away, embarrassed from your venting and finding it hard to face him.

“Don't. Whole point'ah talkin’ is so ya ain't bottlin’ allat to yerself.” He quieted again, casting his gaze to you then up to the sky as he fidgeted with his hands. “Had a brother too; from before. Was an asshole, but still ma brother.”

You perked up a little, following his line of sight to the black above you. “What happened?..”

“Wa'salways gettin’ stuck with tha wrong people; last time jus’ cost ‘em. Happened bouta year into this; had tah put ‘em down mahself.”

“I'm sorry…” You swallowed and unsurely nibbled on the gummy flesh of your cheek. Was there ever really a right way to respond to that kind of thing?

“Ts'fine, long time ago. Point is I get how it is tah lose family like tha’, ‘nd ‘ll always listen when ya need it. Ya got me.”

“Thank you… for everything; bein’ there every time you already have. I really appreciate it, Daryl.” Truthfully, you'd flat out needed it. He'd remained a constant when all else altered. “I just don't know what to do anymore. Dad's been so distant too, and if I'm gonna lose him to cancer... I'll need her there for that.”

You licked your lips, taking a shaky inhale and biting your tongue a bit. “Sometimes I feel like all she sees when she looks at me is my head on a pike too.”

Daryl's jaw tensed, fearing you'd confess something like that. “‘Ll talk to ‘er.”

“No, you don't have to do that. I know you two are already–”

“Nah. ‘M gonna. Ya shouldn't ever think somethin’ like tha’. She still cares ‘bout ya: ts'jus’ hard for ‘er, been through a lot.” He gave a gentle squeeze to your shoulder before removing his hand. “She loves ya. Get sum rest.”

You nodded faintly, taking another breath to gather yourself and lifting from the spot to retreat inside, leaving the man to his own solemn nature.

❥-》》—————➣

Daryl often wondered if some things were worth it, this included; begrudgingly agreeing to let Carol tag along with him on what was meant to be a hunt, yet tracing paths back to that long abandoned cabin he would've preferred to add ‘forgotten’ in the title of.

He damned Dog for leading him back there, but figured something was going to push out the full story regarding how he spent all those years in the forest – and at least it opened the conversation for more important ones that needed to be had.

It wasn't ideal; borderline arguing with the woman he'd so casually dubbed his ‘best friend’, who'd been there when he needed her and vice versa. It hurt, but it wasn't all she hurt him for, and he was far from the only one she did.

“I'm sorry for Connie,” She spoke, head bowed and pursing her lips to shove back the tears that gathered in her waterlines. “But I'm not sorry for going after the horde and I'm not sorry for making Alpha pay for killing Henry because I was right.”

“‘Nd tha's all tha’ matters; you bein’ right, huh?” Daryl angled to look at her, keeping his forearm braced against the wooden post. She questioned the depth of his motivations, and he shook his head disapprovingly.

“Ts'ain't all about ‘em, ‘ts barely ‘bout me. ‘Ts ‘bout'cher damn kid; tha one ya still got.” They met eyes for a moment before hers shot away, shamefully avoiding the confrontation. “Ya think ‘bout ‘er in all this? Tha’ what you lost, she lost too? Ya know feels like she lost you? Tha’ she don’ sleep much anymore, misses you like yer already gone, ‘cause ya might as well be … Ya still have ‘er, ‘ts sum’thin’ we can't say fer a lotta people, so quit actin’ like ya don't.”

A painful silence settled, clawing at the both of them as he pivoted away and focused out the dirtied glass plane ahead of him. The archer bit back further words, part of him regretting the harshness of such even though it felt required.

“Ya shouldn'tah come.”; brought Carol's sharper attention back, sparking meaner accusations and disclosures between them – predominantly on Daryl's part – regarding their situations.

She turned around, drifting fingertips over the structuring of the cabin's foundation and sniffling before muttering a few things more and trailing into the other room.

Tension hung heavy enough to keep it mostly quiet, even as they later parted ways while returning to Alexandria, forced through seeming trials; Daryl with his motorcycle, and Carol while attempting to cook.

Once he finally got that damn bike working and rode home, he stifled a chuckle at how the silver-haired woman stood there, disheveled appearance matching his own. The man appreciatively declined her offer for soup, exhausted from his troubles and preferring to just go lay down with Dog.

He followed the shepherd round the house to enter through the front door, watching the cheerful wagging of his tail as he padded across the hardwood and down steps to the basement.

Daryl readjusted his crossbows strap around his shoulder, brushing back his hair before descending. He picked up Carol's voice in the distance, sequenced by yours, and paused to shift his vision for just a quick glance; you perched against the kitchen counter, bowls on the surface, and for the first time in a while, a genuine smile on your face as the older woman came up beside you.

His own tugged the slightest bit at one side of his mouth, satisfied with the apparent reconnecting. He continued his action, setting his things down in his room before partially undressing and flopping back on that couch.

Even if his relationship with Carol remained rocky, granting some stability to yours was enough for him. That was worth it.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.52)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Jimin and Jungkook might not be the /best/ at giving you aftercare, but what they lack in execution they make up for in sheer determination. Sometimes, love is the best medicine.

Tags: Sub drop, Angst, Self-deprecating thoughts, Self-esteem issues, Hurt, comfort, Tears, sex scene Negotiations, vibrators, voyeurism, pleasure-dom jimin, pillow princess m/c, discussions of past sexual and physical abuse (nothing that i don’t believe hasn’t been touched on prior), mentions of death, medical stuff, 

W/c: 8.6k

A/n: Ah, this is a chapter, am i the most proud of it? no. but thats okay! i hope people will like the hurt/comfort! i think i needed to write something like this for bily. i know bily is long but! this is probably one of the most intimate chapters i’ve written so i like it for that fact, and all the subtext in it! 

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Yoongi’s not waiting in the house for you when you get back from the gym. He’s not even waiting on the porch. No- he’s on the street, eyes frantic and flannel misbuttoned like he’s been listening for the grumble screech of Jimin’s car. Like he started walking down the street the second he heard it.

He hardly even wants to wait for it to thud to a halt. The smell of metal and gasoline gunks up your stuffy nose, keeping you from scenting him. His hands are so soft on you when he makes to pull you out of the car and Jungkook’s lap although the omega clings to you. A half-affronted noise leaves his throat. bereft as you’re transferred from one packmate to another.

But Jungkook would never deny Yoongi this.

Your mates’ hands shake, trembling when they cup the back of your neck. “Oh- my little sweetheart- I’ve got you- I’ve got you-”

Truer words have never been spoken. He effortlessly lifts you out of the car and into his arms. You’re little more than a puppet, a doll underneath your mates’ hands as you reach for him and are rewarded.

Your nose feels rubbed raw either from the scents of everyone at the gym or your own sobs that tear through your throat. The sound is as rough as sandpaper and as quiet as the pea gravel that clinks against their sneakers as they ferry you into the house. But the soothing smell of chocolate feels like pure relief when he tucks your face into his throat.

Jimin leaves his car parked cockeyed in favor of shooting out of it to usher you and Yoongi inside, hand on your back. Jungkook’s close behind. Big hand closing around the tips of your fingers.

There has never been a prettier safer house than your and Yoongi’s home. Finally- you can smell your packmates, and it’s that alone that starts your comedown. You finally feel a little bit safe. Here where evidence of the people who live and love you clings to the floorboards and the strawberry-patterned tea cloths. and push away dangerous ideas that hover on the edge of your consciousness like vultures. 

Here you go, making a big deal out of nothing again. Here you go making them love you less. You should accept your alphas criticism without all this fanfair- what kind of omega can’t handle such a simple correction? Geumjae would have hit you harder and you wouldn’t have been nearly as upset. You should punish yourself more to make up for it-

You barely remember the moments you spent leaving the gym; Memories strung together like mismatched socks on a close line.

A face you don’t know well enough to recognize yet- Wonho maybe. “I told you to make sure she didn’t hurt herself kook” “It’s not that kind of hurt hyung.”

Jimin’s barely leashed growl as he came too close. Too threatening and forghein to Jimin's grating senses. There is nothing more dangerous to an alpha than a strange not-packmate coming close to a distressed omega.

He was ready to flatten Wonho, But luckily he didn't have to. Hopefully the other omega won’t hold it against you later.

You remember Jungkook getting you into the back of the car. Wrapping his arms around your back when you curled up as tight as possible. You remember Jungkook telling Jimin to drive fast. His cheek laid over your shoulder, already trying to cuddle the sadness away.

You remember lurching into motion before Jimin could even touch the gas pedal. Frantic, shaking your head. Begging him not to. Shaking so hard you could hardly see.

He’d kept you at a reasonable speed even though his whole body was trembling too. Eyes more on the rearview mirror and you and Jungkook in the back seat than on the road. 

You’re still shaking. It doesn’t stop when Yoongi puts you into Jin and Jungkook’s nest. Jungkook immediately begins to fluff the covers. Pulling items closer to you that the other omega deems of particular comfort; Namjoon’s favorite pillow. Hobi’s sweatshirt. Jin’s favorite yellow blanket; the mustard yellow companion to your thick blue duvet that's in the other room. 

Even as Yoongi gets you situated, whipping away your tears with his sleeve and clutching you close. Like if he just keeps your head tucked below his chin then nothing bad can happen to you.

Jimin pulls back the covers so that you and Yoongi can get in and when you do-

The fluff of it is safe, blissfully so. 

A safe little cavern of warmth and softness and pack that your mate places you into. You’re still crying, still curled up as tight as you can. But the reverence with which they treat your curled form is almost enough for the bleak nameless awfulness to leak out and warmth to take its place. Jungkook tugs himself along your spine and Yoongi teeters, one knee in the nest. Jimin darts out the door, clearly having something else in mind.

Jungkook looks up at Yoongi. “She needs-“ 

“Chocolate,” your mate says. Every Dom is well acquainted with the tiny bundles of serotonin found in gold foil, as holy and easily given as communion. Subs always get chocolate after a scene. It's one of Yoongi's rules. It even applies to Jungkook. Even when it might trigger a seizure. The pack has learned that certain things are worth the compromise.

A drop is something that they’ve all felt at one point- Dom drop too although that predicament is substantially less common. But Jungkook has never witnessed anyone drop quite this bad. (You’re still crying so hard. Hard enough that there’s a knot building in Jungkook’s own chest). He's never been in the position to take charge and take care of them the way the others might. 

Now- he wants to do more than that. He wants to be the first one you turn to for comfort, the one in control of getting you back to normal. 

“And water-“ 

Jungkook’s fluffy hair flops as he shakes his head, “not water-“

“Lemonade?” Jungkook nods, pout disappearing as Yoongi is properly ordered about.  

The basket that Jimin carries is nearly as tall as his torso and twice as wide, packed several inches higher with mismatched blankets and soft things. Filled to the brim with every last nesting blanket that the pack keeps in the hallway closet. He places it on the edge of the bed softly so as to not startle you and then-

Promptly dumps it out on top of you.

Light filters down past cotton and soft down feathers, obscuring Jimin and the sound of his voice, muffled by the layers and layers of fabric. “I put the big one in the drier, it should be warm in a few minutes.” Jungkook behind you fidgets happily, the small murrr he lets out ascent and praise enough as he begins to fuss and build a nest around you. The walls higher, safer. 

Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi operate as a perfectly oiled machine. Yoongi goes to get you food and Jimin replaces him. As pitiful as you might be, as pathetic as you might look (sniffling, face all blotchy and hot feeling underneath their touch) You have never been in better hands as Jimin settles you.

An alpha, omega, and beta a piece- it’s almost as good as your whole pack.

Jungkook falls into a purring nesting fury as you sniffle. Fluffing the nesting things around you until you resemble some sort of cozy flower. Each of the blankets is a careful petal placed just so, keeping you safe and snug inside until you're ready to bloom.

Jimin shucks off his sweatshirt, his arms are warm and fuzzy underneath your nose as he holds himself close but not too close.

Alphas. You’re sensitive to them- are you not? Can your fractious brain recognize that Jimin’s not a threat? Worry gnaws at his wrists. Nests are meant to be the safest place for omega’s. While this one isn’t yours technically, still-

Jimin will understand if he’s not the person you want to comfort you through this.

You’ve never seen Jimin this timid as he sets one hand on your head, rubbing through, a comforting growl tugging from his chest- keeping a little bit of a distance between you in case you’re not ready for it and-

And you don’t want it. You don’t want a single inch between you.

You want him wrapped around you so tight that you can’t tell where your body begins and his ends. You want him to want to hold you like he needs you. You want him to hold you like you could never do anything wrong because you know how far from the truth that is.

Everytime this happens you wonder if this is the time they decide that you're too much to handle. If this is the meltdown that will estrange them from you.

What request could it be that might tip the scale out of your favor? What is too much love when compared to not enough? Don't both leave a sour taste in your mouth? Namjoon and Hobi last night is only part of it- they're only part of what you’re guilty of.

But Jimin, hovering over you, is the one person who might share your fate.

The sheer terror that the truth will poison the ones you love. the idea that everything you have is only one truth away from disappearing. He at least- can understand what this particular kind of regret and fear feels like.

But It’s okay. It’s okay because Jimin probably doesn’t want to hug you anyways. You don’t want affection if it’s forced. The best you can do is hope not to be a burden, Jimin is probably at the end of his rope with you- always trailing after him and Tae.

You quake beneath his sky touches; petting down your hair and cupping your wet cheek to wipe away the fresh wetness. Your lower lip trembling, face crumbling again. He's being painfully gentle, not hard and anchoring like you want him to be.

Jimin’s shaking with the effort of holding himself back. Jimin has always been able to subvert his needs for his packmates just like you. But his leash on himself is tightly pulled right now. 

Luckily Jungkook notices the reason for your shaking. A keen builds in your throat. Your omega reacting to Jimin’s presence without your say so. You're two seconds away from letting out an embarrassingly needy chirp when He pokes his head up out of the blanket, glaring at Jimin-

“Minnie- I swear to god if you don’t hug her right fucking now-“

No sooner has the order been given than Jimin is crushing you. All the hard and pretty edges of him cradling you into being. Your knees pressed to his knees, the rumble of his growl pressed to the top of your head and the feeling of him inhaling pressing to your chest. Strong arms around your shoulders. 

Jungkook pulls his body back along your back, your behind nestled in the cradle of his hips. Until you're completely covered by the both of them, any spare inch not cuddled and touched and loved is protected by the blankets too.

Your breath still isn’t coming right and you’re still crying so hard that your ears hurt. So hard that it feels like the skin of your face is hot underneath the tears, you know it must be the most unattractive thing in the universe. And yet-

And yet Jimin nuzzles into the side of your face. Fingers tickling your collarbones, “Breathe in for me.”  A simple command. You follow it, chest inhaling, pushing against Jimin’s palm. “Again.”

It’s easy to breathe because he wants you to. And only because Jimin wants it. You’re good aren’t you good.

“Good pup” You sag against him, and he soothes you with more of that, endless grumble growls of “good puppy, such a good omega for us, doing so well.” Falling from his lips.

“Jesus” Yoongi says when he comes into the room and finds the nest a mess, the pile of blankets arranged on top of the three of you. Nothing more than air holes and misplaced limbs that let him know the configuration of your bodies. It’s hard for him to muscle his way in, but he plucks a pillow from the side and is rewarded by Jungkook’s face and the top of your head ruffled from Jimin’s copious scent as he drags his cheek up and down.  Jungkook whines petulantly at being discovered.

“Alright, up. I know you want to smother her but she needs chocolate and shit.”

Yoongi would be worried, more insistent that he be wrapped around you too- but your scent is slowly mellowing. The tense tugging down his mating bond doesn’t feel quite so taught. (At least not like it did earlier when he was finishing the drawer knobs upstairs. Your dropping felt like someone dragging their nails down the nape of his neck. Like the drop in temperature before a storm or a plunge on a rollercoaster. The lurch when your feet misplace a step).

He’d known before Jungkook called.

Despite all the love you can’t seem to stop crying. At least it’s gentler now. Jimin kisses your wet cheeks. Your tears living and dying on his mouth as he kisses each one away diligently. And then the feeling of his warm tongue, darting out kittenish as he cleans your face free of the memory of sadness with soft small licks.

It’s a little wet and a little gross, but Jimin’s hair tickles your forehead, nose nudging yours as he works. It's not exactly grooming per say but close enough. The soothing rumble growl of his chest sends you down and down. Turning your sobs to sniffles.

“Open up sweetheart” Eyelashes fluttering, Your chin gets nudged up by Yoongi’s hands. His fingers gently pinch your cheeks and guide your mouth to fall open obediently. Yoongi places a small piece of chocolate on your tongue, the inch squares broken in half then half again. A big cup and straw with icy lemonade soothes your hot throat. Jimin’s soft licks continue when your mouth is occupied, licks that grow into hungry kisses when he finds a bit of chocolate on the corner of your mouth and licks there.

Jungkook looks as stern as you’ve ever seen him, holding the lemonade cup threateningly. “You’re going to stay right here, you’re going to let us love you until you don’t feel so shitty, and only then- will we let you out of the nest, okay? Pack's orders.”

Yoongi jostles Jimin and the alpha pulls himself a little more on top of you to give him an inch edgewise. Feilding complaints of “you know I get supreme cuddle priority where this is concerned.” He grumbles, but lets your mate manhandle you until you’re placed gently on top of his chest. (If this is what babying by three separate packmates is like- you can’t imagine what it would feel like from all seven.)

You try to duck back below of the edge of the covers but Jungkook doesn’t let you, making a soft noise and bending over to kiss at the corner of your mouth. “Why does Minnie get to lick all the chocolate-“

“Oh, be quiet kookie” Yoongi’s finger hooks into his mouth- shoving a bigger piece that he crunches on through his laughs.

Another square. Another sip. They don’t make you talk, but soon all you want is another kiss. Jimin’s lips work on your throat nudging pleasant pheromones from your scent gland and cleaning you of the grainy film of sadness. While Jungkook and Yoongi trade your mouth between the two of them. 

Jungkook’s tongue tastes like chocolate, just like Yoongi’s. It’s dizzying and slowly gets hotter as your bodies warm up the nest. Jimin's hands slide up your ribcage, holding you in place as he laps at your throat. Leaving your scent gland pink and sensitive and utterly normal smelling under his mouth.

Every chocolate square earns you another kiss until you’ve almost eaten the whole bar. “You’re going to make my lips chapped.” Jungkook hums through another kiss but recognizes that it’s a wet confession. You’re still sniffling.  

“Too bad. It's what you deserve.” He says matter of factly, swallowing your protest with another kiss. Yoongi makes a sound in agreement. do I though? Do I really? Isn’t this all just- not allowed? Not for me? Am I really worth all this. “I can hear you doubting us you know-” Jungkook pushes. 

Yoongi’s fingers massage down your tense neck and you tuck your face into his shoulder. Your mate sighs, and you thank god or whatever force above that Yoongi's never been one to challenge you the way that Jungkook does.

“Can we just go back to kissing if you’re going to psychoanalyze me?”

Jungkook doesn't let you hide, turning your cheeks up at him “You deserve every bit of this, and every bit of babying the others are going to give you when they come home-“ you gulp, but try and twist your face out of his hands.

"Kookie-" your mate eases.

But they won't just let you stew, content to kiss away your sadness. If that was ever a thing might happen their mouths could do it. Jungkook’s with his cute little mole. Jimin’s that are so plush you half expect each kiss to come with a squeaky toy noise. And your mate's kisses, slow and lingering working you over until your scent goes sweet and heavy.

 You hardly have enough time to breathe between one mouth and the next.

Your breathless "fuck" gets swallowed between Jungkook's huff and Jimin's insistent growl. he’s so grumbly when he kisses, each press of his lips earning another possessive rumble. Comforting kisses and hot kisses and every type of kiss in between. Unhurried in their intent of taking you apart and putting you back together.

You don't know how long they spend kissing you but it feels like hours.

The need between your thighs builds with every kiss. The hunger sensitivity hotness of arousal carefully cultivated by their mouths and nothing else. you’ve never been someone who had a particular weakness for kisses but maybe it’s just getting passed around that has you riled up so fast. the smell of buttery baked slick eventually nudges your nose. They’re so close, so hot pressed around you. You can feel Jungkook’s rapid heartbeat against your back.

Yoongi's hand massages closer and closer to the nape of your neck not a scruff, but not not a scruff either. Jimin is not content to wait while you kiss, Jungkook delicately licks into your mouth, almost lapping at the seam of your lips. it’s messy and primal and you feel yourself clench around nothing when he sucks on your lip. Just in time with Jimin dragging his lips up and down your scent gland, hot and clean under his touch. 

Sometimes- sometimes soft sex is the best sort of aftercare. Especially after the doms are particularly rough. From what Yoongi knows of your scene last night (Namjoon and Jin gave him a rundown) neither you nor Hobi got to cum last night.

Maybe that's what you need. Like this. So soft and gentle that you hardly have to lift a finger.

Jungkook settles for man-handling your lower half, tangling your legs, and nesting his between yours. Squirming close enough for the apex of your legs to touch his thigh. Dragging along the thickness. not exactly sexual given you're both clothed and yet-

Yoongi catches his hands. Sensing your discontent before you shift, not entirely uninterested but-

You have three packmates in front of you and you'd have a hard time even pleasing one of them right now with how tired you feel.

jimins hands start to linger along the hem of your shirt but you catch them and pull back, Fingers pressing gently, tentatively giving your bodies some space. Eyes darting away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

“I think- I’m still a little sore from-” from Tae’s knotting, almost four days ago now. Your body still hasn’t healed itself completely. The skin deep ache is still there when you move. Not to mention the tenderness on your backside from Namjoon. There's still evidence of her, barely there bruises from her mouth poking up over your hip where your shirt has gotten rucked up from Jungkook's fingers gentle and explorative.

Don’t make me say no to you right now. Please don’t make me disappoint you.  I don’t think I’d be able to say no right now if I wanted to. I don’t think I’m able to not to give you every inch of me. 

Your memory fractures, hurtling you into another moment, another lifetime.

In the backseat of a fancy car after a dinner during which you hadn’t been able to keep from crying. You couldn’t help it, it just hurt so bad sitting after the night before. You were so sore then- not sore just- in pain just sitting there.

It was one of the first nights he’d ever been overly rough with you. Rough enough that you’d found yourself too hurt for any more. But Geumjae hadn't wanted to hear it. You remember Geumjae cupping the back of your head just as gently, urging you down toward his crotch. The chauffeur in the front seat put up the partition.

“There is one way you can make it up to me. I know you’re upset that you made me angry. But you have to remember if I’m happy you’re happy right?” 

Right?

Jungkook and Yoongi take your answer for what it is. The kisses get slower, more pecks. But Jimin- Jimin is still eyeing you precariously. He notes the darkness in your eyes, the place you go to that's small and dark and scary.

"If you’re saying that because you think this has to involve a knot- then you’re wrong. It doesn’t. I was just going to-” he trails off, waiting and watching. You shift backing up right into Jungkook who promptly loops his arms around your middle.

“Doesn’t it?” You ask carefully. Still very unsure and very worried. “You can’t exactly like- fuck the sad out of me any other way. Can you?”

You don’t mean it to sound like a challenge but it’s clear something in Jimin takes it like that by the way he bristles. something in Jungkook too. His hands are still on you, still on your stomach. Stroking gentle circles that go hard with your words.

“Not at all."

"Do you think we have all those sex toys for decoration?"

You shrink, and Jungkook nuzzle sweetly. Yoongi cautions, unsure. "Guys-"

But Jimin is never one to back down. Pressuring you is the last thing he wants to do but he just wants to understand why. When he can so clearly smell that you're interested- why are you refusing?

There's something about seeing you so sad, so small and unsure like you just were that makes him itch.

He nudges the side of his face with his nose. “If you don’t want to cum then you don’t, that’s all I was implying. Nothing reciprocal- this isn’t about making us happy.”

Happy

You toy with the front of his shirt, something in your stomach lurching. You don't know if you can believe what Jimin says but- Jimin is honest. When you pull back to search his eyes there’s nothing there that betrays the truth. 

“I don’t want to just like- get off while you guys watch, that hardly seems fair- that hardly seems- right.”

Don’t let me take more from you- because I will take too much from you if you let me. I don’t want to feel selfish on top of feeling like I’m not enough. I should be offering the same to you for fucking up your afternoon.

Jimin darts forward, pressing his mouth to yours, in a brief hot way, speaking with his body when his words just won't align. When he pulls back he doesn't leave you entirely, keeping his forehead pressed to yours.

“Say no. Say no and we’ll drop it and I promise we’ll just cuddle but- do you trust me?”

“Yes” you answer, because you do- you think you might always trust Jimin. Despite what happened before you knew Yoongi and the whole pack. Despite everything that’s happened since. Jimin has always proven himself with his love, a selfless love.

He was the first one after Yoongi who bandaged your cuts and kissed your burns and bruises, all those months ago. Back when you had nothing to offer him, not even your words. You can trust the medicine he prescribes. There was nothing in it for him then, no reason that he had to care for you.

“You promise you won’t like- get angry if it's just me? If I don't want to reciprocate?” You tentatively trail off, you don't want to be too articulate with it but you have to know. 

Jimin’s eyes darken ever so slightly, but you don’t find any of that anger in his answer. None of it- directed at you. “Of course, I won’t. I’d never do that. None of us would ever get angry at you for that.”

You watch Jimin for one more moment, hiccuping and Sniffly. You duck jimin’s intense gaze shyly. "You don't have to," you say weakly, giving them one last chance to change their minds, interest stirring anew as Jungkook sucks down the column of your throat. Your scent spiking again- comforted and consenting.

"Just shut up and let us take care of you" Jungkook gets a nip for that one.

Yoongi leaves the nest at Jimin’s urging to choose something you might like from the boxes in the closet. “Oh! Get the pink one with the-” Jungkook orders. but Yoongi pauses in the doorway to look back and watch you. You’ve gone back to exchanging soft kisses. 

The Yoongi of many months ago would have intervened before Jimin could even ask the question before he could even press you. But now- something in him feels nearly settled while he watches you snuggled down between the two of them. 

In another world; where you and Jimin and Jungkook and Tae had met before Yoongi and the rest had. He thinks you'd have done well together. That you’d have fallen in love or into something- regardless of him. The idea of it is both comforting and scary. 

Yoongi comes back, and you barely catch the flash of pink as you recline against Jungkook’s chest. As Jimin slides your pants down your hips, pulling back the blanket so he can slide them off your feet.

The kisses keep coming, and you don’t know where to put your hands, they end up hovering in front of you awkwardly- unknowing if you should touch Jimin or if that would be too much.

Jimin holds his hand out expectantly for it, and Yoongi hands it over with a quiet huff. Alphas and their possessiveness. Trust Jimin to be possessive of your pleasure.

The head of the vibrator is already warm. Jimin is considerate that way and warms it up between the palms of his hands before he begins. Your mate keeps trading you for kisses, pressing the occasional peck to jungkook’s forehead or cheek. both of them keep you distracted, and prevent you from getting anxious as jimin intently bunches your panties to the side (the fabric damp enough that it wets jimin’s fingers). But Jimin is too focused to kiss you too, too insistent that he be the one to hold the vibrator.

You don't even have to lift a finger. Is this what he meant when he said he wanted to turn you into a pillow princess all those weeks ago?

It’s gentle, you’re too distracted with kissing them as Jimin presses it to your clit. He does it softly but even so, the gentle first touch of it buzzing against you has you jerking.

Yoongi lets out a soft noise, hands going to your hips as you squeak, keeping you still underneath the covers. Everything is warm and hidden and gentle. The only disturbance is your breathing getting heavier, and Jungkook asking Yoongi for a little bit of chocolate. 

It's so casual you would hardly assume from their behavior that there was anything lewd happening under the covers. Jimin starts on the lowest setting, slowly cranking it up as the minutes go on. Hooking your thigh to the side so that the folds of your pussy can better part around the head of it. Watching you intently, pulling it away to watch your clit twitch. 

Fuck, he thinks, tae wasn’t lying when she said you were cute. It’s been long enough from the time in Jimin’s car that he’d almost forgotten how wet you get and yet. The head of the vibrator glistens, and he licks his lips when he realizes the wet patch you’re leaving on Jungkook’s thigh. 

Jungkook watches you as he eats the chocolate, smiling down at you when your eyelashes flutter. He hopes it feels good, you feeling good is something he wants all the time. He keeps the chocolate on his tongue, letting it get melty and gooey before he kisses you again.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing you, working your mouth with his, letting the chocolate melt into the seam of your mouth keeping you occupied while Jimin takes you apart. Both of Yoongi's hands cup your hips, urging you into a gentle grind. He's doing all the work really, nudging your hips in the direction of Jimin’s hands. Holding you still when you start to twitch.

You're so worked up from your kisses, from the spanking last night where you never got to cum, and the fact that the last time you did was with Tae and Yoongi almost 5 days ago now- that it comes quicker than you thought it would.

Your orgasm is such a gentle thing, further urged on by Jungkook’s hot mouth running down the column of your throat and Yoongi’s pleased grumble. Quiet moans that become stilted as your toes curl, stretching. 

"There you go sweetheart, just like that-" Jimin growls, pressing the head of the vibrator to you with slightly more force. Making your tummy clench up under his hand where he presses. keeping you pinned exactly where he wants you.

Jimin keeps the vibrator pressed to your clit just long enough before you’re squirming away. Jungkook- the little fucker- actually has the audacity to laugh, looking down at the bottom of the nest, where it’s been disturbed by your moving.

“You know- I never noticed it before, but you kind of stretch your toes like noodle does- you know when he’s stretching in the sun, toes all splayed- when you cum.”

Your mate actually laughs at that, so does Jimin- his chest shaking under your cheek as you hide.  “It’s kind of stupidly cute.”

“Shut up” you hiss, but there's no heat behind it as Jimin detangles the vibrator from the nest and hands it over to your mate. Yoongi promptly shoves it into the bedside drawer, out of sight and out of mind.

Jimin sets your thigh back down easily, placing your your panties back in place with a soft tap that has you jerking again. Your soft whimper is soothed by him and Yoongi as your body goes boneless and your mind goes quiet. jungkook re-tucks the nest around you but you don't think you could move from it if you tried, every ounce of energy worn out of it from crying and cumming.

Coming down is so easy, it’s like nothing happened at all only that you're utterly boneless now, with no tenseness left in your tired body. Sex and intimacy and these moments tangled together just like this nest. They don't smell angry at all if anything Jimin's scent fluffs out thicker and more satisfied than before.

Vanilla, chocolate, and honey. All satisfied and sweet thick. The three of them smell so nice together. It has your own scent spiking wildly. You sleepily drag your cheek up Jimin’s throat, hoping it means you'll smell like him later. You hope Jin doesn't mind, that Hobi doesn't mind- the nest is probably going to smell like you for days.  

You're willing to admit that you do feel more clear headed now, although the need to be close re-surges. The need for reassurance spiking and unlike last night Jimin is right there. Yoongi is too. Jungkook- yawning and shriveling his nose cutely.  Everyone has it in their mind for a nap and yet-

Yoongi’s hands comb through your hair, tucking it away from your face, playing with the little baby hairs you have at your temples. The same ones he always tugs, that he loves. Even though he’s never verbally said that he likes them.

“Do you know why you dropped sweetheart? Do you have any idea why? so that we can try and not do it next time?”

“No” you sink lower below the covers. But even they sense that it’s a lie. “Namjoon’s not going to be angry at me? For dropping? When he gets home? Right?”

“Of course not, I know he’s not even angry at you for last night either” You tuck yourself lower almost face to face with Yoongi’s tummy.

“But-“

Jimin straightens, searching the nest for his phone “We can call him right now,” a look at the clock makes him curse though; he’s probably not even out of surgery yet. “Wait okay, we can call him in exactly one hour- here, I’ll even set my timer.”

Jungkook noses along your shoulder. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what you’re upset about-“

They wait, and with their hands on you, it’s easier not to feel the threat of your words. How is it that being loved is such a medicine to make you unafraid? There was a time when you felt fear more than safety, when not feeling it felt as foreign to you as being loved. You look down at Yoongi's hands and realize how much has changed in the last few months. Your heart feels heavy with it.

“Hobi got punished because of me.”

Your mate stiffens and Jungkook's hand is still hard around your waist, unwilling to let you get more than a centimeter or two away from him. It’s Jimin who snorts, pulling back the covers so that he can really see your face.

He raises his eyebrows, “Do you know how many times my bad ideas have gotten us both a punishment?”

“Or mine” Jungkook adds, wincing. He rubs away his grin on the back of his hand. Now is not the time to get sentimental over happy memories. “There’s a reason why we’re the pups- collectively the pups. We've all fucked up before. Hobi gets that.”

“You mean- it wasn’t- he’s not gonna hate me for it? Again?” Yoongi and Jimin go quiet, but Jungkook leans forward to nuzzle into the nape of your neck.

“I’m going to say something, and I’m going to need you not to freak out over it. Alright?”

You nod, taking a deep breath. Giving Jungkook permission to continue.

He leans forward cupping your cheek and turning your face to his and even with your hands on Yoongi’s chest, blanketed by them- His words still feel like they yank the floor out from underneath you.

Jungkook laces his other hand with yours. thumb skimming down your cheek. “This isn’t like this before. Hobi and you. You’re not like before anymore. But I think you  know that already. I think that’s the real reason why you’re so scared of making him upset."

You can't look at Yoongi, can't meet his eyes with how intensely he's watching your face for your reaction. "When we say you didn’t fuck it up, we say it because we know what things really push Hobi away when he loves us-“  your inhale of breath is so jagged but Jungkook continues anyways “-and it’s not going along with his ideas.”

Jimin hums behind you, agreeing “Hobi likes to pretend that because he’s more submissive than us in bed it means he can’t act like an alpha. But he still likes to be the one in control sometimes. He does it in different ways. He likes to be listened to, to be followed. He likes to look after you when he likes you. He’s probably worried you’re the one mad at him pup.”

You think about all of it. The times that Hobi's taken you to get food, "Can you make it the way I like it?" "Of course, I can." him reaching over to tug at your seatbelt and making sure you're buckled in last night. You think of him taking your sea glass and keeping it safe in his pocket. All of it. He's always looked after you in his own, special, shy way.

Especially last night, when he safeworded for you.

You blush, and immediately re-hide hide your face in the front of Jimin’s shirt. The fact that they know this much, that they've thought on it strikes you as concerning. You wonder if they've been talking about your relationship. You know Jungkook and Tae definitely have- the gossips that they are.

If they knew about the kiss, if Hobi tells them- you wonder what they'll think. You know he hasn’t said a single word about it to anyone yet and you doubt he ever will. You only talk about things you like. You only gush about kisses given that you wanted right? And Hobi pulled away from you so quickly- he can't have wanted it. It had to have been a mistake.

And if that's true, then you have to doubt what Jungkook and Jimin say.

Yoongi's hand carding through your hair feels as familiar as your own. He knows you're not convinced yet. “I promise Hobi’s not mad at you darling.”

Hobi scoffs from the doorway, “Of course I’m not fucking mad at you.”

He has this vaguely ruffled look about him, vaguely off-kilter like he’s spent the last few hours of work bouncing on his heels after he got the text from Yoongi to the group chat. Got the text that Jin wasn’t able to step away quite yet too- and knew the radio silence coming from Namjoon meant you'd be without them. 

Hobi doesn't know why he was so worried, one look at the four of you curled up in the nest, and he knows you've been well taken care of.

You shoot up, nervous, worried about what he might have heard, and painfully aware that you don’t look your best. Your face is probably still all splotchy, tear tracks and messy hair and even messier clothes. You hadn’t even showered after the boxing class and you're not even fucking wearing pants-

Hobi carefully shucks off his slightly muddy sweatshirt. “You’re not?” you ask.

“Why would I be?” he challenges, and even you have to admit you don’t have a good reason for doubting it. Yoongi next to you is so still you think he might have stopped breathing, eyes darting from you to Hoseok. Jungkook inhales a little breath, making an ah- noise that you carefully ignore.  

You only have Hobi, coming close to the nest, lingering. Waiting for something.

He looks okay, okay in a way that you didn’t look this morning, nothing dark or broken in his eyes, nothing at all that supports the fear still itching through you. Taking its nails to everything soft. Hobi's eyes are soft, dark, and still like tide pools, gentle the way the ocean is at low tide.

You sit there, staring at him for a second.

“Can you get in the nest Hobi? Please.” You ask quietly. His eyes go all scared, all fragile for a second before he nods.

An omega asking an alpha to get into a nest can only mean one thing. But you both ignore the subtext of it as he gets on the edge because honestly- the nest is already a little crowded. But Yoongi moves over quick and Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes. You feel like you've missed something important. Something that's hidden in Jungkook's mouth- smiling like that cat that’s just eaten a canary. 

He’s only a body away from you but if you’re being honest- it’s Hobi’s presence in the nest, safe, getting soft touches from the others that lets you banish the last of the sub drop for good.

You watch them as you start to get sleepier and sleepier, trying to keep your eyes open as you watch the others say hello. Yoongi’s hand runs over the hairs at the nape of Hobi's neck. Jimin growls and nudges his shoulder with his forehead in hello. And Jungkook’s happy squeak.

Hobi looks fine, he smells fine when you drag your nose up his hand, dozing in all the pheromones. He lies back. “You alright? Better?” he asks, getting his head on your pillow- when a brief reprieve is offered by Yoongi slinking off to get more lemonade.

(Maybe it’s a little gross that the four of you were sharing one glass of it- but then again Jungkook and Yoongi have both literally tasted your slick before so you think you won’t ever exactly get grossed out by things like this).

Hobi hadn’t known what he would come home to. If you’d been nonverbal like you were at the beginning or if you’d be in omega space. He'd prepared himself for both possibilities and the most likely and most heartbreaking one; that you'd just want to deal with it alone or with just Yoongi.

It eases something tense in his chest that you've clearly been on the receiving even of very thorough aftercare by the look of it. The smell of sadness is distantly sharp on the air. Long soothed, a bad memory.

Hobi doesn’t know why he doubted that Jimin and Yoongi and Jungkook would do a good job. Why he thought for a second today that you might not be alright without him. It’s so stupid, Hobi feels stupid for thinking that. You have your freaking mate right here.

“Yeah,” you say, better, now that you’re home. Better- now that I can see you’re okay. “I’m sorry for making such a big deal over nothing, I’m-“

Hobi shushes you, “Don’t, that’s not- this isn’t a big deal. It’s not- really.” He stresses.

“Okay.” You say, “Okay” you repeat again because now that he’s here you have no idea what to fucking do about it.

You’re feeling so much lighter as the nest gets cracked open, the careful wings widened to accommodate more bodies and shoulders. It gets harder and harder to stay awake especially once Jimin retrieves your blue blanket from the drier and the warm edge gets bundled around you, soft and fluffier than the rest. Soft giggles ferry your tired body as you doze, and cat videos and tictoks get traded until Yoongi shushes them, and tells them to let you sleep.

One by one your packmates come home. You wake for each of them.

First Tae- who comes in a rush much like Hobi, her shoulder-length hair coming loose from her claw clip that she tosses on the bedside table. the clatter of it waking you up. She bundles up close to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and telling you how good you’re being. Tae is in her pretty lavender-colored blouse but her pants are a bit too scratchy until she changes into softer peach-patterned pajama pants.

She presses her nose to your shoulder, inhaling deep, pulling back with her lips parted, she must have worn a lip stain today because the edge of her cute mouth is all ruddy. "You smell like Minnie" You nudge her nose with yours.

"He took care of me." In the doorway, Jimin tries his best not to blush.

Jin comes home like a whirlwind, gone is his suit jacket and his tie, and his pants aren’t long for this world. You regret the nature of the world each time one of your loves can’t be in pajamas (Really- it’s fucking sucky that they don’t just get to traipse around in nesting clothes all the time). The soft squishy omegan part of your brain feels more and more comfortable stretching out its curious fingers and tugging at them in displeasure.

He's feeling needy too; you wake to Jin’s long fingers running through your hair and down your spine and then going up again checking your body to make sure you're okay. Now that the pack omegas got you, he won’t easily let you go.

Being loved isn’t always harsh touches and harsh kisses. Sometimes being loved looks like being softly herded into the kitchen because someone has to cook and none of you feel like being more than a few feet apart right now. Being loved feels like your big blue blanket wrapped around your shoulders bundled in Yoongi's lap while Jin makes soup. Because soup heals all kinds of ailments- even the bad days like this.

You’re persuaded into a shower to wash off the scent of all the sadness with Jungkook and Jin. Although Jungkook spends more time playing with the bubble bath than really helping wash you or groom you. Usually, he doesn't miss a chance like this.

Your sleepy bodies are pressed flush in the warm water, hungry for nothing but closeness. Jungkook’s wet hair tickles your collarbones when you sit in his lap. His small cock squished against your thigh and your chest pressed to his, nothing sexual but everything intimate about your position.

Kisses pressed to soap-slicked skin that go nowhere let me wash your sadness from you. let me do it with my mouth and make you clean with love. Let me love you in the way that makes you feel the lightest, the most cared for. The purest. let me give you that back. let me make you new. 

One love makes you clean, one love makes you dirty. One makes you big and another small.

After the bath, the two of you sit side by side and let Jin blow-dry your hair. Jin even drags out floor cushions to do just this (especially for your poor bottom, still tender from the spanking last night but not quite red, a reminder that Namjoon had in fact been gentle).

The pack would ordinarily never consider Jungkook to be an obedient pup, but he is a model of perfect behavior for you. Sitting pretty and obedient (but still fidgeting slightly from side to side) while Jin does his hair and then yours. When you start to squirm he drags you sideways into his lap. After you're dry, Jin runs your hair through with a sweet citrusy smelling serum that Jungkook says he likes. You find yourself sniffing his hair to see if you like it too.

After a shower- and a fresh scent mark by the pack omega- you’re right as rain. It surprises no one when you almost fall asleep at the dinner table, fed mouthfuls of sweet strawberry spoon cake (Tae might have picked it up on her way home). A warm belly full of soup and food. Kept in your chair only by Jimin's arm around your middle.

You tried to wait up, but Namjoon doesn’t come home when he’s supposed to. He doesn’t even send a text.

The night drags on- the hours growing longer and longer and then smaller until jin ushers all of you into bed. No matter how much you whine and tug at Jin’s sleeve and say that you're more than capable of staying awake for him. You watch Yoongi and Jin share a distressed look. Namjoon still hasn’t answered any of his texts. How long was his surgery supposed to take again? 12 hours or 15?

That’s a long time for anyone to be awake, let alone for someone to be standing. He’s bound to be tired when he comes home- he’s bound to need the 7 of you.

You want to stay awake, but you’re too worn out from crying and from the boxing class today. Struggling to fight sleep until Jimin makes the move to scruff you, a gentle thing when he sets his teeth against the nape of your neck and tugs. Ushering you gently off to sleep with a small whine.

When you wake next it’s well into the night and Yoongi and Jin are not in the nest.

It takes you a few seconds to detangle yourself from between Tae and Jungkook. Before you even recognize what scent- or more precisely whose- Is tugging you into motion before you’re really awake.

Your alpha- his coffee and liquor scent- is angry and upset. It fills the house, pushing out the scent of you and everyone else. Namjoon never smells this potent, so musky. 

There’s something wrong. 

The first thing you see when you walk into the living room is Namjoon's blood-soaked shoes. The sensible ones he wears during surgery, soaked through from the inside out. You can tell he tried to clean them before he left but the white parts of them are still pink. Like there was so much of it that he couldn't get it all out in one wash. 

 He left them outside. He can't have been home for long because the door is still open, letting in the cold nighttime air. He’s pressed along Jin’s front, Namjoon only ever looks small when he’s pressed to Jin. Even as he pulls back there's something limp in him something worn away. 

You're still not awake enough to piece together his words. “-One second they were fine- stable and then- they just started bleeding and the general surgeon-“ Namjoon only ever talks about the terrible and heartbreaking part of his job with Jin and Yoongi. Not the rest of the pack and not you. Not ever. 

He only ever tells you when his surgeries go well. Not when they go bad, not like this. 

Maybe that’s the reason why he goes silent when he sees you in the doorway, rubbing at your eyes. Namjoon looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him. His silver hair all pushed up at the back like he’d been pulling at it.

You press yourself into his front, letting out a small shattered sound. “I’m okay pup.” but his voice is rough, his eyes wet. “I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you today- I wish I'd-“ He lets out a shaky breath, and you wrap your arms around his waist. 

 “s’okay joonie, just happy you’re home, got the nest all nice and warm for you- come” you try to tug him but it’s like trying to move a lead weight.

You're so short you only barely come up to the middle of his chest, Jin nuzzles into his cheek, and Namjoon's scent gets impossibly thicker- deeper. It makes you want to roll around in it. 

 It actually makes you weak in the knees. And that's how you know something’s actually wrong. Something must be really wrong for Namjoon to be so sad and still smell so thick and musky. You don't know if he washed the blockers off before he left the hospital or if they just stopped working- or

 You must make a noise- because Namjoon’s looking down at you, your mate pulls at your shoulders trying to shush you- to urge you back to the nest but you’re too sleepy to make sense of it. Can't leave alpha, need to stay by alpha, a small instinctual voice answers in your mind. 

You finally unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, breathing in Namjoon’s scent deep and- You go so weak at the knees you almost fall over. 

"What’s wrong- what's going on? Why-“

“Joonie’s going to be fine little love- he’s just-” Your mate flushes, unable to say it.

“It started halfway through, I was scalpel deep in the patient's spine and I couldn’t stop.” Namjoon scrubs a hand down his face, trying to clear himself of the sadness but it only makes him smell stronger. Even Jin straightens his back at that. “-I wanted to rush home the second I got your text too but I couldn’t. I noticed after I got it that I was kind of going crazy and-” 

Jin cups your cheek trying to move you away and give Namjoon some space but Namjoon can’t stop his growl, loud and echoic in the quiet house. threatened by you just stepping away. His hands tighten on you possessively. 

You freeze at the threatening sound but Jin just sighs rolling his eyes. “Oh you big baby- i’m not taking her away from you.”

Namjoon seems on edge as he stares down at you. Eyes flashing in the darkness. Jin sets his hands on his hips, but he knows better than to argue with his alpha when he’s in this condition. 

“Joonie’s going to be fine darling, He’s just touchy because he’s in pre-rut.”

~-~

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[gaybananabread]

Could we have some radioapple tickle hcs pls? <3

(Can be platonic or romantic!)

🍎Alastor & Lucifer Tkl Headcanons📻

~Of course! I’ve been looking for an excuse to write some Hazbin stuff, so I’m more than happy to get these disaster-dads in. I’m gonna do their individual hcs first, then the pairing ones at the bottom. Hopefully these aren’t too OOC. Thank you for requesting!~

🦌Alastor📻

General:

I think we can all agree this asshole loves a good tickling, though the direction depends on who’s around him.

Only certain people are allowed to touch him normally, much less tickle him.

Still, I’d say he’s a lee-leaning switch. He just masks his moods when they’re “inconvenient.”

Lee:

He gets into lee moods more often than he’ll ever willingly admit.

Actually acknowledging and dealing with them, however, is a whole different story.

Whenever he’s stuck somewhere with his regular acquaintances, he’ll just suck it up and try to stifle any reactions. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to slip away and hide somewhere to wait it out.

When he does actually deal with them, however, he practically gives himself up to the ler.

Only Rosie, Mimzy on a good day, and occasionally Lucifer are allowed to tickle him without much asking. Everyone else has to have explicit permission, and are severely limited in what they can do.

When it’s one of those three, Al becomes a wriggly, kicking, squirmy mess of a demon. He definitely cannot hold still while being tickled.

For anyone he’s not really that close to, they can only really go for his sides or palms without being murdered afterwards.

If you get him good enough, some high-pitched bugles and bleats could slip into his laughter.

His worst spots are his hips and ribs. He loses it when you go for either; you’ll get a lot of adorable deer noises.

His melt spots are his ears for sure. His smile gets all dreamy and relaxed; if you’re lucky, you may even get a few little bleats or some purring here and there.

Ler:

Run for the fucking hills, my friend.

He’s an evil bastard of a ler for sure. If you’ve pissed him off a certain way (or just seem like you need a good tickling), he’ll make you scream.

Now, while cruel, the deer man is no hypocrite; if you seriously don’t like or want to be tickled, he’ll stop. Maybe not apologize, but he certainly won’t try it again unless you specifically ask.

If you do ask, expect no mercy.

He’ll use his shadow tentacles to tickle the living (or dead) shit out of you.

Though he may not always listen right away, I’d recommend setting up a safeword with him. That way, he’ll know when you’re seriously done.

Teases very sarcastically, but he’s always serious when he compliments your smile.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over all that laughter, my dear.”

“Oh my, that is quite the bad spot, isn’t it? How about I send a little friend or two to give it some love?”

“You have a lovely smile, dear! So wide and cheerful; you’ve just got to show it off more!”

“You’re always so sour-faced. Maybe we should make these little attacks more frequent, hmm?”

Despite all this, he can be decent with aftercare. If he’s really comfy with you, you’ll get head pats and maybe some cuddles.

If not, he’ll send his shadow over to snuggle with you. It’s not really the same, but you can feel the hugs it gives. Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll let you have some of his mother’s famous jambalaya.

🍎Lucifer🎪

General:

You can’t tell me this man doesn’t love being tickled.

Like, there’s a way to laugh his heart out and drown out all his negative thoughts? Man is more than down.

On the flip side, he can’t help but enjoy the giddy panic on someone’s face when his fingers wiggle into their sides. It’s a great way to take them down a peg without doing any harm (Charlie approves).

For that, I’d say he’s a 50-50 switch.

Lee:

He’s got different reactions around different people, depending on how well he knows them.

If he doesn’t know you all that well, he’s gonna try to hide his reactions: pushing you away, biting back giggles, acting like he hates it.

If you’re close? Completely different story.

He’ll crumble at the first sign of wiggling fingers, a big ol’ smile dominating his features. He can’t help it; the thought of getting tickled by someone who cares makes him so giddy.

If he’s really lost in laughter, his wings might pop out. It’s adorable, and it gives you a lovely new spot to attack~

His lee moods are about as rare as drug dealers in hell.

Pretty obvious, too; random giggle fits, staring at others’ hands, and giddy blushes are plentiful.

When he gets into them, Luci can actually ask for help sometimes. Sure, it’s flustered and stuttery, but it gets the message across.

His worst spots are his wingpits - all six of them. Even light scribbling there will send him into near hysterics.

His melt spot - and favorite spot - is his belly. The widest, giddiest smile forms if you gently tickle him there. Go for long enough, and he might even doze off.

Ler:

He’s such a loving menace of a ler, no argument.

He’ll take things slow, but you’re gonna get the hell teased out of you, no question.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does it tickle? I’m barely getting started!”

“Snorts already? Man, this really tickles, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve gotta be the cutest thing in all of hell! I mean, listen to those giggles!”

“I’ve gotta refer you to Charlie. This level of adorableness could warm the coldest of hearts~”

“Not there, huh? Then how about here? Or here? You’ve really gotta be more specific.”

You KNOW this man would use his wings against you. Sneaky hugs, followed by some feathery fun~

His ler moods are frequent and fierce. If nobody asks him within a few hours, he’ll just attack the first lee who gives him semi-probable cause.

Even though he’s a bit of a meanie, he’s a saint with aftercare.

This man loves post-tickle cuddles; what’s better than curling up with a snuggly, giggly lee? He gives great back-rubs, and I think he could make a mean grilled cheese.

❤️Paired💛

We can all agree that Lucifer is the main ler, right?

Now, Al doesn’t just let the man tickle him; that’d be too easy.

Deer man loves to tease: raising his arms to “reach for things” with others around, chuckling right in Luci’s ear, just being an all-around asshole.

It takes the blonde everything he has not to pounce in public.

By the end of the day, it’s safe to say that Lucifer gets the last laugh~

When Luci is in a lee mood, he'll just straight-up ask for tickles from Al.

Just to annoy him, he'll plop in the deer man's lap, raise his arms, and demand attention. Alastor is more than happy to oblige~

NOW, when Al’s in a ler mood, the tables pretty much turn inside-out.

He’ll go up to Lucifer, teleport him to his room, pin him with tentacles to the wall or bed, and make him squeal. He’ll usually push the fallen angel until he safewords.

While Lucifer could just escape, he “secretly” enjoys being taken down a few notches. Besides, he gets free cuddles afterwards.

Speaking of which, they always cuddle afterwards, no matter who the lee is. It’s an unspoken rule neither of them are keen on breaking.

[lambertdiary]

Safe With Me

Summary: Dalton is really sick and his girlfriend drops everything to take care of him.

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: established relationship, language, mentions of throwing up, comfort, pure fluff

A/N: Hi! I had a couple of requests asking for sick!Dalton so I decided to write this! and if i’m being completely honest i not sure how i feel about 😭 hopefully is not too gross. also i’m sorry if it’s too long and redundant but I hope you’ll like it! Pls let me know what you think &lt;3

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

Ever since his coma Dalton was terrified of getting sick. He now knew he wasn’t actually sick back then, but that suffocating feeling never went away.

And his current state was unfortunate, to say the least. He didn’t even leave his bed in the morning, cause as soon as he woke up he noticed a pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating and intense body pain. There was no way he could go to class.

Before notifying his girlfriend that he would miss class, he looked up his symptoms to make sure he didn’t need to seek medical attention, quickly coming to the conclusion that he had a simple cold. He should’ve seen it coming, he wasn’t feeling the best the day prior but brushed it off thinking he was just tired.

Dalton: Not gonna make it to class today, woke up with a cold :/ sorry baby

He fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly not for long. His body temperature suddenly dropped, making him shiver, so he brought up his blanket and tried to cover his entire body with it, but stopped when he suddenly felt hot again.

Dalton was sure he had never been this sick, he was uncomfortable, his throat was incredibly dry and his whole body sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. He let out a loud moan in discomfort and a few seconds later, he heard the door open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake and I didn’t wanna bother you” Y/N said softly entering the room. She was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered her face but he knew it was her. Dalton covered himself again, up to his head, he didn’t want Y/N to see him like this, not when his hair was an absolute mess and his pajamas looked like he took a shower in them.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He asked under the blankets.

Y/N put down the stuff on the other bed, “I’ve never missed a day, I’m sure I can afford skipping one class” She approached Dalton’s bed and kneeled next to him “Hey, how bad is it?”

“It’s bad, I don’t wanna get you sick too” He replied, his throat hurting every time he spoke.

“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care” She joked, but Dalton remained silent “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet”

“No”

“Well I bought you some chicken soup, you should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you” She stared at the lump on Dalton’s bed, waiting for him to come out or at least say something “Baby come on, let me see you”

Dalton appreciated her ditching class to take care of him, it truly warmed his heart and all he wanted to do was show her how thankful he was, but what if she got sick because of him? What if he looks really bad right now? “I don’t look good” He finally muttered.

“What?” Y/N chuckled, thinking he was joking.

“I’m sweating an insane amount, I can feel my hair sticking to my face”

“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face, it works, trust me”

Dalton thought about it for a moment, he figured she wouldn’t leave even if he directly asked her to, so he uncovered his face and shyly looked at Y/N “I feel really ill”

“I know baby, tell me what hurts”

“Everything, my entire body, the headache is terrible and I get really cold but after a second I feel like I’m boiling”

Y/N touched his forehead as soon as she noticed his blushed face “Baby, you’re really hot”

“I know that” He joked with a smirk on his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her laughter “Good to know your sense of humor remains untouched” She stood up and grabbed a food container from her backpack “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better”

“My hair is all covered in sweat though” He sat on his bed waiting for Y/N to give him his food.

“That’s ok” She opened the container and Dalton could see the steam that came off of it. Y/N looked through her bag for a spoon, but she had so many things she thought would make him feel better it took her a while. She was pulling out a bunch of other stuff, but when she finally found it she carefully put the bowl in his hands “It’s really hot so please be careful”

Dalton took it and whispered a little “Thank you”

“You might feel hotter for a moment but this is good, you need a lot of fluids. Now I’m gonna sit behind you, is that ok?” Dalton nodded, blowing into his soup so he wouldn’t burn his tongue.

Y/N struggled a little to get behind him, staying on her knees to make sure she had full access to Dalton’s hair “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes”

“Ok, should I do one or two?” She started brushing his hair. He was right, he was sweating a lot but Y/N didn’t care, she just wanted to take proper care of her boyfriend. She was being extremely careful for a number of reasons.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, it didn’t take her long to figure out how to put two french braids on him without pulling his hair or making his headache worse “Done” She said getting back on her feet, taking a good look at how Dalton looked with braided hair. Her heartbeats began to increase “You look really cute”

Dalton’s face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever “Thank you. I actually do feel much better” And he was, he was surprised at how lighter his head felt without all that hair resting on his face or shoulders.

“See? I told you” She then kissed her fingertip and tapped Dalton’s nose with it, making him melt at her touch ”Finish your soup, I’m gonna see if Chris still has that humidifier”

Y/N left his dorm, leaving him alone again. Somehow he already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But he had to admit that the hot chicken soup was a good call.

Once he was done with it, he laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin his freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, he heard the door again “No luck with the humidifier but this will help too” He paid attention to her hands, she was holding a bucket and a dry cloth “Just this one last thing and I’ll let you go back to sleep” She said as if she was bothering him, Dalton didn’t feel like she was, if anything it was the other way around and he should be the one apologising. She put down the bucket next to his bed and waited for him to sit again, this time paying attention to his damped clothes “Why don’t you change into some dry clothes?”

He looked down at his shirt and felt embarrassed when he noticed how much it looked like he’d been drowned in a rainstorm, it didn’t look like that before but it must’ve been the hot liquids “Okay” He agreed, about to get up but Y/N stopped him.

She wandered around his room, grabbing clean clothes that she believed would be comfortable for him to wear. She didn’t want him to feel too hot or too cold again, so she went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. He probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway “Here, I’ll help you change”

She helped him with everything, which he was really thankful for since his body was too weak and in pain to do it by himself. Tossing his dirty clothes somewhere in the room, she proceeded to grab the pillows she previously set on the other bed and started arranging them around Dalton to make his uncomfortable bed a little more pleasant.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked looking down at him, he nodded in response “Sure?”

“Positive” Even his voice was weak.

After he was settled, Y/N reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket, she stroked it over his face a few times “This is great cause now if you feel like throwing up, you can use this bucket” She joked, knowing a cold wouldn’t make him feel nauseous. He chuckled at this, which made Y/N feel better “You’re all good now, why don’t you try to sleep?”

He looked up at her in pure admiration “Thank you, darling”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me” He rasped out.

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick boyfriend?” He could swear he had literal heart eyes right now, nearly biting his tongue to stop himself from saying those three words, since they haven’t said it yet. But he really wanted to.

He went back to sleep, luckily this time he managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Y/N stayed on the other bed, doing some work to stay busy and awake while she kept an eye on him in case he needed her. The hours went by and Dalton’s fever went away, finally. He woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening his eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.

Dalton scanned the room looking for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be found. He figured it made sense that she left, he didn’t really expect her to stay there all day just to look after him.

He tried to get up but his body felt heavy. He groaned in pain and fell on his back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before he could try again, Y/N was entering the room.

“You came back” He managed to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea” She approached him and touched his forehead, relieved that he wasn’t hot anymore “How are you feeling?”

“Better…” He replied, not so sure he wanted her to get worried “I guess my throat still hurts”

“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that” She smiled at him but when he didn’t move, she could feel the worry come back to her “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like tea”

“Tell your cold that” Dalton pouted like a little kid, but Y/N's face remained neutral as she waited for him to take the cup. He gave in and took it anyway, it seemed like she knew what she was doing and honestly, he would do anything to ease his sore throat.

He started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as he remembered and he started wondering if his mum was just bad at making tea “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross” He asked Y/N out of nowhere.

“Gross? Why-?”

“Cause I have been sweating a lot and it’s not like I took a shower or anything” He explained, a little embarrassed.

“Would you be grossed out if I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”

He answered immediately “No”

“See? Don’t be silly” She was happy Dalton wanted to cuddle. Since she got there in the morning she was concerned he just wanted her out of there. Carefully she got in bed with him, sitting against the headboard and getting in a comfortable position, she waited for Dalton to lay down and nestled him down between her legs, with his back against her front.

“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you”

“Really? Cause for a moment there it felt like you didn’t want me here”

“I do angel, I really do. I just…” He stopped for a moment to think about his words “I don’t wanna be a burden”

“Dalton, you know I would never think that” She was brushing his check.

“Still, you missed classes and stayed here all day… for me” He then felt guilty at his realisation “Did you eat something today?”

“I did, Chris brought some lunch for me, she was gonna get something for you too but we weren’t sure for how long you’d sleep. Are you hungry?”

“Not really” She nodded even though he couldn’t see her “I’m still tired”

Y/N has been sick before, and she knew it was exhausting to deal with it but doesn’t remember a cold taking her down like that. Still, she agreed to stay there with him while he went to sleep. Again.

Y/N didn’t notice when she started to drift off, but when she felt Dalton shivering on top of her she opened her eyes quickly.

He was freezing cold, to the point where his teeth were chattering, but his skin was so hot she could melt chocolate on his forehead.

“Dalton?” She whispered, softly moving him “Dalton, are you okay?”

“Mhm?” He hummed. Dalton was holding the blanket tighter and closer to him.

“How are you feeling?” She kept a low voice, she didn’t wanna overwhelm him.

“I’m freezing” She was about to embrace him again, but was interrupted when Dalton abruptly sat on the bed “I think I’m gonna throw up”

Y/N followed his actions, and reached down for the bucket that was still next to them and placed it between his legs. ‘Not good’ She kept thinking, rubbing his back for comfort “If that’s the case then you’re worse than I thought, Dalton, we might have to go to the doctor” Dalton didn’t like the seriousness of her voice.

“I don’t like hospitals”

“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not, your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous, I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking”

“Last time I was at the hospital my soul was trapped in The Further”

“But you’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” He stayed silent “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” Dalton nodded. He knew she was taking care of him, good care of him, but anything related to sickness, doctors or hospitals triggered something in his memory that made him go back 10 years “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, you’re safe with me. I promise” She said rising her pinky in front of him, satisfied when Dalton locked her pinky with his own.

[hard-core-super-star]

Hey!! How are you? I hope you’re doing well. Since it’s world cup rn, is it okay if I request a Hailee steinfeld x soccer! Player reader? Reader played in England their whole career and got back home to play for L.A. They’re an energetic person, but also really dorky and awkward, especially when they first met Hailee at a party. Reader gets all mushy and blushy around her and Hailee makes first move after one of the reader’s games since the soccer player was so shy to do so. I don’t have any preference for the ending, so you can choose!

Btw, I love your work!!

my thoughts will echo your name [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x soccerplayer!reader

summary: you meet your biggest crush at a party and let her slip past your fingers. thankfully, your feelings aren't as one-sided as you thought.

warnings: none; hailee being a flirt, R trying to match energies (and failing a little); light mentions of being outed; light trauma dump?; me not knowing shit about sports and pretending like i know what im talking about

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: once again, let me reiterate that i know basically nothing about sports, soccer included, but i tried my best and hopefully the descriptions don't feel forced. i do have to admit i loved writing this and you can probably tell by the length. it got away from me a bit by the middle but hopefully its not boring. anywho, thank you for the request, lovely anon. (and for the support) i hope you like it <3

* * * * * * *

You weren’t sure how you ended up here.

A casual night out with some of your old friends somehow turned into you being roped into going to a party fit for a famous actress, not a soccer player. Then again, getting to crash Hollywood parties was one of the less well-known perks of the job.

A perk that was beginning to backfire on you.

You don’t know how Zendaya managed to get the information out of you, maybe it was the drinks or the genuine joy of getting to have a conversation that didn’t involve discussing game stats or strategies. You’re not sure how it happened but you somehow let it slip that you’ve always had the biggest crush on a certain Marvel actress who caught your eye the second you walked into this stupidly crowded party.

You thought it was a harmless comment that would stay between two friends but of course, life had other plans. And by life, you meant your 5’10 friend.

You had gone to get another drink from the very inviting bar and by the time you had gotten back to your friend, she was in the middle of a conversation with said crush. You were about to turn around and head the other way when Hailee’s brown eyes met yours once again. Except this time it’s not from across the room.

This time, she’s right in front of you…and you’re definitely about to make a fool of yourself one way or another.

Zendaya notices the way the brunette’s attention shifts toward you and she steps in, giving you no chance to walk away. (You don’t know whether to be upset or grateful about that) She waves you over with a bright smile. “y/n, there you are. Have you two met?”

You shake your head and take the few steps that were left between you and them. You tell yourself the warmth on your cheeks is due to the wine you’ve been drinking and not Hailee’s bright smile. “I haven’t had the pleasure. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally, huh?” She replies with a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I didn’t expect you to be a fan.”

Her words make your blush grow stronger and you’re suddenly incredibly glad for the lack of lighting. You rack your brain for something interesting to say and maybe it’s the drinks or the easy confidence the actress oozes but you end up sounding flirtier than you expected.

“We all need hobbies, right? I hope that doesn’t ruin your opinion of me, though. I’d hate to lose out on my chance for an autograph.”

“Hmm…” You feel weirdly exposed as her eyes trail up and down your figure. “I’ll think about it.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to react, much less reply, and instead walks away to strike up a conversation with someone else. You wait until she’s far enough away before turning to Zendaya with a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Did Hailee Steinfeld just check me out?”

“Yup. And I think she liked what she saw.”

“I’m gonna pass out.” You’re technically joking but you’re pretty sure your legs have turned to jelly from the brief exchange.

“I’m not carrying your drunk ass home if you do,” she replies with a laugh.

“Fake.” You playfully punch her shoulder, which earns you an eye-roll and a glare, before handing her your untouched glass of wine. “I’m gonna get some air.”

She gives you a nod in response and you walk away in search of some privacy to freak out over the fact that you seriously flirted with Hailee. And she...liked it? What were you supposed to do now besides overthink every second of that interaction?

For now, you settle with stepping out onto a somewhat secluded balcony and letting the silence fill your mind instead. You walk over and lean against the railing while your eyes take in the twinkling lights in the distance. You’re in the middle of admitting how much you missed L.A when you hear footsteps approaching. You don’t look to see who it is, assuming it’s a random influencer or something like that.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Your heart skips several beats at the sound of that soft voice. You force yourself to keep your focus somewhere else, knowing the second you look in her eyes you’ll lose the last remaining bits of your calm demeanor. “Yeah, I love being alone while everyone’s in there partying.”

You can feel the warmth of her body as she comes over and leans against the railing with you. You fight back the urge to scoot closer to her.

“I have a song about that.”

“I know.” Your eyes widen once your words catch up to you. “Shit, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“Well, you did say you were a fan.” She lets her comment hang in the air and you can basically hear the underlying question she’s waiting for you to answer.

“I, um, I watched Bumblebee right before I was sent over to play for England,” you explain. “Let’s just say it struck a chord.”

You try not to think about the overwhelming loneliness that accompanied you that first year away from home. A loneliness that only got more and more severe when you came out to one of your teammates just for her to out you the second she got a chance to. The mere memory of it makes you shiver.

You can feel her eyes on you. You even catch a small glimpse of the understanding and concern hidden within them out of the corner of your own eye. “Let me guess, you feel like an outsider too?”

“Doesn't everyone?” The question slips out before you can stop it. You don't know why your heart is so insistent on spilling out all its secrets to this warm and ethereal riddle of a woman but you can't find a way to stop it from happening. And maybe you don't want it to.

Maybe a part of you believes you'll find what you've been looking for in Hailee freaking Steinfeld of all people.

“Is that why you came out so soon? To feel less alone?”

You shake your head and force the truth out of your mouth. “No, I, uh…I was outed. My manager said it was better to release a statement myself before the news spread too far but the damage was done. I got shoved out of the closet before I even played a full season.”

“I-”

“Don’t say it. I don't want your pity.”

You fear you've come off harsher than intended when she doesn't reply immediately. You're about to turn and apologize for being a sensitive jerk when you feel her hand brush against yours. You wait with bated breath, almost not believing she’s even real.

But then her hand gently grasps yours and you swear the lights in the distance grow just the tiniest bit brighter.

“It’s not pity, by the way. I’ve been there too.”

That’s all it takes for you to throw caution to the wind and finally turn to face her. You’re almost expecting her to laugh and tell you she was kidding, that despite all the signaling and the hairpin drops, she’s nothing like you. And yet there’s nothing but absolute sincerity in her gaze.

It sort of feels like she’s taking you apart and putting you back together at the same time.

You try to keep your focus on her eyes and not the tiny gap of space between your faces but you fail miserably and sneak a glance down at her lips before you can stop yourself. You’re standing so close together that if you leaned in just a bit more you could-

“y/n! There you are!”

You jump away from Hailee at the sound of another voice, successfully dropping her hand and putting space between your bodies in one move. You’re not sure why you react that way but you do your best to ignore the way your movement wipes that gorgeous smile off of her face.

One of your teammates approaches you, rapidly telling you way too many details about the arrival of another cluster of soccer players. The last thing you want to do right now is walk away from Hailee. Especially after the reaction you just had. But unfortunately, you don’t get a choice in the matter.

Your teammate grabs your arm and starts to lead you away before you can attempt to protest. You turn back to say something, maybe to tell Hailee to come with you or wait for you or anything at all before she slips away, but by the time your eyes are searching for her, she’s already gone.

You swallow down your disappointment and force yourself to smile despite the storm of thoughts brewing inside of you.

You keep your eyes peeled even as you’re pulled from one meaningless conversation to the next, hoping against all reason that you’ll catch a glimpse of Hailee before the end of the night. You don’t get your wish and you do your best to act like it doesn’t bother you when it’s really the only thing you can think about.

You think about it even once you leave the party and go back to reality. A reality you’ve grown to love but find absolutely tiring at the moment. A certain type of tiredness that doesn’t come just from training for hours every day.

You feel borderline insane with how much time Hailee’s been spending in your mind lately but no matter what you do, you can’t shake off the feeling that you messed things up before they even started. It would be so easy to just pick up your phone, go on Instagram, and send her a simple message.

You don’t do the easy thing though and instead, fill your Instagram stories with cryptic song lyrics and game day announcements. You tell yourself you’re doing it because it’s part of the job but you know deep down you’re just doing it with the hopes of a certain brunette stumbling upon your announcements and showing up to your first game back in L.A.

You tell yourself it’s just wishful thinking up until the day of the game. You make a habit of not checking your phone a few hours before you have to be out on the field which means you miss a certain someone’s reply to your story telling you she’ll be cheering you on from the stands.

Despite your lack of knowledge about Hailee’s appearance, the excitement coursing through your veins is palpable from the second you step foot outside the locker room. The chaos that greets you on the field is one you love more than anything else in the world. The ear-ringing cheers, the smell of the grass beneath your cleats, the beautiful L.A sun shining down on you, everything about it makes you feel more at home than ever before.

It’s like your mind turns off and instead allows your body and instincts to take over for the entirety of the match. Time seems to fly by while you’re playing and it’s not until after the game is over (a game your team won by two goals) that you return to yourself. Which more than anything means you manage to catch sight of Hailee right before you head back into the locker room.

You almost think you hallucinated her due to your exhaustion until she walks in a few minutes later. You suddenly understand why your teammates decided to run off to clean up and change on the other side of the room.

That does mean you’re alone with the one person who’s been running through your mind all week…and you look like an absolute mess.

You try to channel the easy confidence you pulled out of thin air the night of the party but your mind goes totally blank and you end up making an awkward joke while wiping the sweat off your flushed face with a towel. “I didn’t know they gave backstage passes.”

She shrugs, clearly amused by your flustered response. “One of the perks of the job, I guess…and my brother knows a guy.”

“Right.” You let out a humorless laugh before burying your face in your towel. “Ugh, can we please just pretend I’m still funny and charming?”

She doesn’t respond and you fear the worst when you hear the sound of footsteps. You don’t realize she’s walking toward you and not away from you until you feel her fingers wrap around your wrists. “I don’t know, I kinda like you like this.”

You groan, feeling your face grow hotter, if that’s even possible. “That’s not helping, Hailee.”

She laughs before pulling your hands down and away from your face. “Are you always this difficult?”

“It’s the trauma,” you reply.

You finally gather enough courage to look up at her and your breath catches in your breath as your eyes meet. That same feeling from your conversation on the balcony creeps up your spine once again.

Hailee looks at you in a way you’ve never experienced before. Like she’s pulling away all the debris you’ve placed in the way of your real self. In the way of your heart. Somehow, she sees past all the bullshit and the excuses, and for some reason, it doesn’t scare you. It excites you more than any soccer game ever could.

You swear she can read minds because the corners of her mouth fully lift up into a breathtaking smile the second that last thought crosses your mind. She leans forward a little. Just enough for you to feel her breath against your lips before she speaks again. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You lean forward in an instant and replace the space between you with your lips. The kiss is slow and gentle and full of feelings you can barely comprehend.

A part of you is worried you're feeling way too much way too soon but then you pull away just enough to be greeted by that same smile that stole all your thoughts away the first night. It's a smile that tells you you're not alone.

And it's like you're finally able to breathe for the first time in years.

“I'm gonna go so you change,” she says in a soft voice. “Come find me when you're ready so we can go celebrate. I'll buy you a few drinks.”

“Only if you let me buy you dinner.”

She gives one more quick kiss before stepping back. “Deal.”

You watch her go with the goofiest, most dumbstruck, grin on your face. Hailee Steinfeld will probably be the death of you and you have absolutely no problems with that.

[billkaulitzgirlfriend]

♡Louder than love♡

Tom kaulitz x Fem!Reader

Guys I’m back 😭 school has been kicking my ass it’s been forever since I’ve updated I’ll hopefully get more time to write after finals love y’all ❤︎. (I literally fell asleep while making this 💀)

Warnings(weed, alcohol, smut) ion know

This fic is about Tom and you having sex together for the first time after dating for a while this was requested by @minniespacesstuff sorry for the long wait babes 😭

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

Tom and I have been dating for about six months and have been friends for almost five years. We met because me and Bill are best friends. I’ve seen Tom with quite a few girls over the time I’ve known him and how high his sex drive was. He used to always talk about a new girl he was hooking up with, but now with me he doesn’t even talk about going past kissing with me . It’s starting to worry me quite a bit. Does he not find me attractive? Well, at least in that way?

"Y/n?" I look up and see Tom staring down at me. I must have gotten distracted by my thoughts again. "Sorry, yeah?" I say, looking at him, "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I’m good just thinking." "Okay," he smiles sweetly and leans down to kiss me. His lips feel so soft against mine that it always feels amazing when he kisses me. We make out every once in awhile, but he always stops as soon as it gets too heated, making up an excuse to leave. If it makes me feel horrible, does he really want to leave that bad when we kiss?

"Uh, Bill said that he wants to go party tonight; are you up for it?" He asks shortly after breaking the kiss, I guess a drink or two would be great to rid me of my worries for a bit." "Yeah, I would love to!" I say with a little too much enthusiasm, "Okay then, we leave at nine." He smiles sweetly, walks off, and begins to talk to Gustav. I get up and go to my room. I begin to get ready for the night. I put on a tight-fitting skirt that I know Tom likes and a small tank top.

I feel exposed in the thin clothes, but I want to impress Tom, so I wear them none the less.

It’s already 8:50 Once I’m done with my makeup, I walk out of the room, and everyone is already done. Georg is the first to see me. "DAMN Y/N!" He shouts loudly, and the rest of the boys quickly look back at me. "You look so pretty," Gustav says shyly. "Thanks, Gus." "Y/N, YOU SLUT!" Bill screams, "You look so beautiful, Meine Liebe." Tom says while caressing my cheek. I look up at him and sheepishly smile.

"Uhhg, stop being all lovely dovey, let’s go!" Bill says while dragging me to the car:

It’s already 9:20. Once we arrive at the club, me and Bill run to the bar and say, "Can I have two shots of tequila, please?" I sigh as the warm liquid coats my throat. I and Bill order two more rounds before going to find the rest of the boys sitting in a booth talking. Gustav has already found a girl and is sitting next to her. Tom scoots so I can sit next to him. I can’t help but stare at him while everyone talks. My mind starts to wonder back to why he won’t go any further than kissing me. Worries flood my body, only enhanced by the alcohol, and my thoughts are once again cut off. "Wanna smoke?" Georg says as he pulls out two joints. Gustav declines as he’s too busy talking with the girl he found. The rest of us say yes and walk outside. Me and Bill share one joint while Tom and Georg share the other.

The high takes over quickly; me and Bill are a giggling mess. He pulls me away once again to the bar and orders two random mixed drinks.

"Y/n?" He asks, "Yeah, Bill?" "Are you okay? "You’ve been acting a bit weird lately," he says. His words are a bit slurred, but none the less, I tell him the truth. The weed and alcohol lead the conversation. "So you guys haven’t fucked at all?" He asks in disbelief, "No, we barely go past kissing." I say while downing another shot and Bill does the same, "Wow, that’s really surprising, knowing him..." Bill's words make me feel 100% worse about the situation. I’m guessing he senses this and quickly follows up with, "I’m sure there’s a good reason though! Maybe you should just ask?" No, that’s exactly what I don’t want to do." Yeah, you're right, I will thank you Bill.” He’s right, that’s the mature thing to do. "Come on, let’s dance!" I say while pulling him to the floor, trying to escape the conversation. Me and him dance together for a while, but I’m surprised when I feel two hands place themselves on my waist. I immediately pull away and look at them angrily to see that it was just Tom. My face softens when I realize it’s just him. He seems happy about my reaction to this and pulls me back towards him. I smile as he kisses me. "Are you ready to go?" I nod my head yes, feeling tired from all the thinking I’ve been doing tonight. We all decide it’s time to leave and get back in the car. Gustav decided to leave the poor girl behind, claiming she was too dull to bring back with us.

Once we arrive back at the house, I stumble into the door and am the first in the shower. Once I get out, Tom stops me on the way to my room "Do you want to stay in my room tonight?" He sweetly asks "yeah just let me get dressed first" "okay I'll see you soon" he says walking into the bathroom to take a shower.

im already in his bed once he's done he gets In only wearing a pair of boxers I love being the only one to see him like this we cuddle and talk about nothing laughing at stupid jokes we make up our high has already left but we're still buzzed from all the alcohol once our conversation dies down I begin to think about Bills words "Tom?" "Yes Meine Liebe?" He asks sincerely sensing the fear in my voice " do you not find me attractive?"

Toms P.O.V

My heart drops when she says, "Y/n, what are you talking about? Of course I do!" I say while sitting up, and she does the same. I can see tears prickling her eyes. She’s been thinking about this for awhile. "It’s just, I saw how you were with your other "girlfriends" and how sexual you acted with them, but you never want to do things like that with me." This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen: "That’s because those relationships were purely sexual; of course I want to do things like that with you; it’s just that I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted from you." Once I say this, tears rush down her face. "But you have had so many opportunities, but you always leave before anything can happen." Her voice sounds hurt. "I know if we go any further, I won’t want to stop." I say while wiping the tears off her face. She puts her head in my chest while I rub her back, trying to comfort her.

"Can I make it up to you?" She looks up at me with a questioning look.

Y/ns P.O.V

I nod my head when he says this , Is he going to buy me another gift? I think to myself, I’m surprised when he begins to kiss my neck, but I quickly melt into the feeling as he kisses me all around until he finds a spot that makes me moan. I feel him smirk against my skin. He begins to feel my body through my clothes. He slips his hand under my shirt and massages my breast. I can’t help but wine. "Scheiße, I’ve wanted to do this for so long," he said as he rids me of my shirt. I cover myself, but he quickly pulls my hands from my body. "You're too pretty to be doing that, Meine Liebe." He stares at my body for a moment before kissing down my stomach, leaving a trail of love bites. I begin to squirm once he kisses my thighs. He holds my legs over his shoulders, keeping them still. He kisses my heat through my pants. "Ahh-fuck Tom," I say while covering my face. "God Y/N, you’re so wet." He says while moving my panties to the side. "You've been waiting for this for a long time, huh?" "Mhhhm T-tom" "Come on, Süßes Mädchen, use your words." "I’ve wanted this for so long," I say in a breathy voice. Tom smirks, "Well, I won’t make you wait any longer baby." His tongue makes contact with my cunt. It feels so good with him between my legs. He knows exactly what he’s doing. "A-aah fuck Tom." I see him rut against the bed, trying to relieve his tension. Soon, I feel the knot in my stomach come undone. "Gonna cum hübsches Mädchen?" I desperately nod, "Cum for me then, baby." His words push me to the edge. Once I’m done, he pulls away and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on his tongue. I look down to see his erection and his boxers stained with precum.

He swiftly takes them off and hovers over me and slowly enters my walls. "M-mhh," he grunts. Once he bottoms out, he waits to move until I tell him. He starts with a slow, sensual pace. He keeps eye contact with me, watching as my face twists in pleasure. "Fuck, you’re so beautiful, baby," he says while his pace quickens. "I-I love you so much, T-tom." I struggle to get his name out. "I love you too, mein hübsches Mädchen, I can’t believe I waited so long to do this. You feel so good." Our lips connect once more before I reach my climax again. I let out a string of vulgar words, and once I called his name for the second time tonight, he soon fallows after me. His strokes becoming uncoordinated and slower, and I moan at the feeling of being full of warm liquid.

We lay there for a while cuddling, but Tom gets up and goes to his bathroom, and comes back with a warm towel, he cleans me up with it and does the same for himself, then helps me get dressed again. We lay back down, holding each other. "I love you so much, Y/N, and don’t ever think anything less than that." "I love you too, Tommy."

(Thanks you so much If you made it to the end let me know if you enjoyed it and Y’all I have a couple more fives coming out soon one about Gustav and another about Bill it might take a while though, and if you have and head cannons requests please let me know!)

[hornyhornyhimbos]

"Freak Show" ~ E. Munson

Summary: In celebration of his last night on tour, Eddie treats you to one last round of phone sex. However, it ends much differently than you'd imagine.

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Wife!AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,469

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ Content) phone sex/mutual masturbation, voyeurism, perv!eddie, squirting/female ejaculation, explicit language, mentions of foreign objects being in places they probably shouldn't be, not a warning but Eddie has a cell phone in the 80s because I said so

Extra Notes: yall this took me literally like two months to write but i am SO PROUD of how it finally turned out 😵‍💫

Originally Written: sometime in 01/2023 through 02/25/2023

Beta Read By: @rupsmorge

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!

Six months. Six dreadful, Eddie-less months had passed since you'd seen your husband. Since you'd been dicked down.

Luckily, it was the last day of his sold-out American tour. He'd be arriving early the next morning, and you'd already slipped into his favorite lingerie set in hopes of the festivities starting early.

In celebration, he'd promised to give you a real treat that night if you behaved. So, he called various times throughout the day, just to check up on you, and just as you'd promised, you had been obedient. You hadn't even thought about touching yourself that day in preparation for your last round of phone sex (hopefully) ever.

The phone began to ring, a noise you were sure you wouldn't want to hear for the next six months. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you picked it up with fidgeting hands. You put on your best "professional" voice, even though Eddie called every night at the same time. "Munson residence. Mrs. Munson speaking."

"Mrs. Munson?" Eddie repeated, a slight drawl of exhaustion coating his throat. "How professional of you, baby."

"Sorry," you told him, "just wanted to make sure it was you first."

"Who else would you be expecting at this hour of the night?" he said, his voice filled with slight suspicion.

"No one. But I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn't want anyone else hearing those noises only you can coax out of me."

The drawl of your voice was enough to get him going, and you both knew it. He let out a long breath before teasing, "Is that why you're always waiting up so late for me to call you?"

You were already tempted to shove your panties out of the way and stick your fingers in your already awaiting hole, but you resisted, wanting to hear him say it first. "Maybe," you simply answered, your voice not far away from a whine.

"Well, if that's the case, why don't you put those pretty little fingers where you need them most."

There it was. And just like that, your hand slid into your panties, one finger toying with your hole while your thumb got started on your clit.

Next, he instructed, "Why don't you take those panties off instead of pushing them out the way, hmm?"

You stopped mid-thrust. "How did you-"

"I know you. I've seen you in this position before. Now why don't you do what I would do and throw those panties aside?"

You obeyed, sliding down your lacy panties and placing them beside you on the bed. Your finger slipped back in easily, collecting all those sweet juices Eddie couldn't wait to taste when he got home. Your eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure, though you were slightly angry that your delicate, little fingers couldn't reach your sweet spot like Eddie's could.

"What are you thinking about?" Eddie whispered, already feeling hard, but forcing himself to resist.

You let out the tiniest, little moan, and Eddie nearly came in his pants just hearing it. Fuck this, he thought, undoing his jeans and slipping a hand into his boxers. "Y-You," you answered, willing your legs to stay spread open.

"What about me?" he inquired, stroking his cock with ease. He was uncut, and you'd never seen anything prettier than that.

"Imagining th-that these are y-your fingers inside me."

He smirked, thinking about the pretty faces you were currently making. All naked and alone in that king-sized bed, wishing it was his fingers buried so deep in your cunt that you couldn't breathe. "Really?"

"Mhm," you answered, slipping a second finger inside yourself. You crooked your middle finger right into the spot you needed it most. "Oh, God," you let out, settling into the feeling it brought you.

You must've sounded hurt, because Eddie's next question was, "You OK, angel?"

You nodded, your middle fingertip gliding over your spongy spot with ease, now that you'd found it. "I'm all g-good, baby. Finally found my good spot all on m-my own," you answered.

He pouted, though you couldn't see it. His voice was thick as he let out a low groan, nearly on the verge of cumming already. "You won't need me to guide you anymore, huh?" he grunted, wishing it was your tongue swiping up and down his dick. "You can do it all on your own now?"

"N-Never," you breathed out, your opposite hand darting up to rub your nipple through your (or rather, Eddie's) tee shirt. "Oh, your hands feel so good on my tits, baby."

"Yeah?" he chuckled, considering placing the phone between his chin and shoulder and slipping a hand into his own shirt. "My hands aren't too cold, are they?"

"Just right, baby," you managed to answer, your attention now focused on how close your orgasm was as your fingers continued to work their magic. "Wish they were a b-bit cooler though. Miss your rings being b-buried deep inside m-me."

He stroked hard and faster, sucking in a quiet breath. "God, you look so pretty with my rings buried inside your pussy. Love watching you writhe when I keep them inside you."

"EddieEddieEddie," you strung together, your thumb working faster at your clit as your bliss approached. "G-Gonna c-"

"That's it, baby," he coached, his own orgasm fast approaching too. "Make all those pretty noises and faces for me, angel. Wanna hear you scream loud enough to wake the neighbors."

"I'm so close, I'm so close," you repeated, your walls pulsing around your delicate fingers. "Oooooh," you breathed out, working your fingers twice as fast, a now unfamiliar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"That's it, angel. Let go. You know you want to," he said, quickly followed by a, "shitshitshit," as his seed spilled over his hand. "Good girl. Making me cum first," he whispered through heavy breaths.

The thought of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge, your legs shaky as they tightened around your hand, your cum spilling out onto your hand and down the mattress. "Fuuuuck, Eddie," you groaned, working yourself through your orgasm, "I squirted."

Those two words were enough to get him hard all over again. "Shit, princess, you think you could do it again for me?"

"We'll see when you get home," you exhaled, your hand still coaxing you through your high.

As if on cue, Eddie smirked, "Angel, why don't you take those fingers out of that cunt and taste them for me, huh?"

Something about his tone seemed off, but you trusted Eddie with your life, so you did as you were told, removing your fingers and dragging your cum to your awaiting lips. "Mmm, so good."

You could almost hear his expression darken as he replied, "You always look so pretty when you do that."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you let out a deep chuckle. "I'm surprised you remember, considering it's been six," you paused to lick up the last of your essence, "devastatingly long months since you've seen me."

His voice was thick and rich as he asked, "You wanna know something, baby?"

Your eyebrows lifted as you removed your fingers from your mouth one last time. "What's that?"

"I'm outside. Watching you from the bedroom door, actually."

You tossed the phone back onto the receiver, grabbing your favorite silk robe and throwing it over yourself as you rushed to the French doors, pulling back the curtain to reveal—sure enough—a laughing Eddie.

You pulled him inside, slapping his chest hard enough he fell onto the bed as he continued to laugh. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, kitten," he fake-pouted, trying to hold back another fit of snickers. "Just wanted to have some fun with you before I came home."

You slapped his chest again, his pecs hard under the taut, black material of his tee shirt. "Yeah well, you scared the daylights out of me so I hope you had fun."

He pouted, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you down between his legs, his cock hard in his jeans as it rested against your back. "I'm sorry, angel," he said, kissing your shoulder where your sleeve had fallen. "I promise, it was innocent. Not like I invited the guys to watch or something. It's just me. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you like that," he promised as his hand slid underneath your shirt.

"Do I?" you rebutted, a frown sitting tight on your face.

His lips met your skin again. "Yes," he answered, followed by a third kiss. His hand made its way to your boob, softly massaging your previously neglected nipple. "You want me to make it up to you, baby?"

You simply nodded, leaning into his touch. "I'd like that a lot."

EMMY IN HER PERV!EDDIE ERA????

i really can't explain what happened in my brain, but uh, it sure happened, didn't it? 💀

anyway, hope you all enjoyed whatever this was! lmk if you guys want more perv!eddie stuff bc i'd be more than happy to provide it 🤭

-> taglist: @rupsmorge @dungeons-are-too-cold @writer-in-theory @esoltis280