#this man holds my brain in a death grip permanently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

Text

wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, sex in Bucky's hut, he has one arm, woman on top, unprotected sex, dirty talk, insecurity.

Author's note: posting my old fic, while I'm working on that tattoo artist x bookshop owner one👀 If any of you have smut ideas (with some kinks maybe), feel free to write your requests

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. Unfortunately, Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky, so you weren’t allowed to see him.

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

At first, you had to visit Shuri and TChalla to talk through some moments, and that whole time you were bubbling with nerves and anticipation to finally see Bucky.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face in your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, not to mention that he looked fantastic. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two rushed to his hut with the food you had bought from a local cafe owned by a kind old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill.

Bucky talked about his goats and the way he felt better living in Wakanda, while you unconsciously moved closer to him, needing to fill the void that formed while you couldn’t see him. Bucky just stopped in the middle of the sentence, as if he realized that you were too close, looking at him with your big, pretty eyes.

Food was forgotten. Somehow, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and hot kiss you had ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to keep you close.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth; your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss. Bucky couldn’t get enough of your taste; he bit your lip, then licked it with his tongue to calm down the delicate skin.

It felt so natural, like it was meant to happen a long time ago, and now you could not keep all of your emotions inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts.

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m so sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink blush on his cheeks.

"I want it, Bucky; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?" He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to express your unsaid feelings. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.”

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort.

“Just leave it on, okay?”

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?”

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked stunning with his slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and lustful and needy eyes. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.”

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time.

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes.

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.”

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Shit– how are you so soft…” Bucky's hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and reaching for your sensitive nipples. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he did at that moment—to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?”

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just—fuck!”

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching behind you, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky placed his hand on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, and you were not able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers.

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside.

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face.

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, as well as skin slapping against skin. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end.

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, drawing you in for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body.

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm.

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? Will you let me feel you up?”

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me; ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated.

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body.

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him.

You weren't sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.”

part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky smut

2K notes · View notes

inmyicyworld · 1 year ago

Text

Wakanda

pt. 2

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Words count: 2.6k.

Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.

Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill.

Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.

It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.”

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“Just leave it on, okay?”

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.”

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck– how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?”

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers.

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end.

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body.

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm.

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body.

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him.

You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.”

pt.2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky smut #one shot #smut #x reader

736 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 1 year ago

Text

Even If

genres: zombie apocalypse au, angst, loss pairing: reader x scoups words: 1.2k warnings: descriptions of injury, death, wound infection, and permanent scarring. notes: as with most of my fics, this story does not have a full plot! it is a snippet of a world!!

On a typical scouting, Jeonghan and Chan find more trouble than they initially thought.

Sometime during the aftermonths, Jeonghan developed a keen eye for the living.

He doesn’t like to think about when he gained this inexplicable ability. The infection would have reached his brain in mere minutes if not for the quick thinking of his friends. Now, a good chunk of his left cheek is gone, the remaining scar tissue stretched taut over his cheekbone. And with that, his left eye is glazed over with a milky white. Too exact of a match to the moon-eyed to classify it as anything else.

Before his incident, the group had wondered how the moon-eyed could find them so often, even in the dark. Jeonghan, though, now half moon-eyed, understands.

The living have this certain… glow. He can’t explain it when the younger ones ask, because he doesn’t quite get it himself. It’s not that he really sees a glow. He just knows it’s there, in all of them.

And distinctly missing in the moon-eyed.

It’s his one solace, he thinks sometimes as he stares at the ceiling above his cot when he can’t fall asleep. (He never can these days.) Though he was bitten, and though he is partly… them… When he lifts his hand above his head, the glow is warm around his fingers. At least those, his hands, are human. Alive.

His eye is part of the reason he is always a part of the scouting group when they split up. He can tell if any wanderers are human and need help, or a high-functioning moon-eyed. The other reason is that he’s the oldest, and the idea of any of the boys going out without him to protect them brings a disgusting bile to the back of Jeonghan’s throat.

“Jeonghan,” Chan calls out, tearing Jeonghan’s eyes from the skyline ahead. Normally, Chan stays at the base, the closest thing the group has to a healer along with Mingyu, but he came out today claiming that if he didn’t, he’d go completely stir crazy. His concerned, almost scared tone makes Jeonghan regret letting him outside already.

Following his gaze, Jeonghan looks out to the right of their intended path.

“Is that guy…?”

Two bodies are tangled together on the grass, and usually, Jeonghan would chalk that up to some moon-eyed accidentally getting stuck to each other and unable to walk. The person underneath, however, has the glow.

Jeonghan looks at Chan. Neither of them have to speak. They just run.

There became a certain hopelessness in the aftermonths. Jeonghan himself almost succumbed to it, but the boys managed to pull him out.

Everyone, no matter how hopeless it may seem, deserves a chance at life. Especially in a world like this.

Jeonghan tears the moon-eyed off the human, and while Chan jumps in to apply aid to them, he throws it to the ground as far away as he can. He flips it over, hands moving quickly and practiced to force its arms behind its back in the hopes that he can press them close together, then shove all his weight on them to dislocate the shoulders. A moon-eyed with no functioning arms is a little easier to fend off.

But— Jeonghan’s hands pause. Its arms are already behind its back, bound with layers and layers of torn, dirty fabric. The same fabric is wrapped behind its head, gagging it. Jeonghan realizes that the screaming is not coming from the moon-eyed, which only grunts and struggles under him, and he instinctively puts his hand on the back of its head and shoves its face into the grass.

The screaming gets louder, gruff and guttural, and that’s when Jeonghan looks behind him at the human, whom Chan is desperately holding down by straddling his torso and gripping both of his wrists in each hand. The screaming isn’t garbled, moon-eyed nonsense, it’s—

“Get your fucking hands off them,” the man yells, eyes burning as he glares fire straight into Jeonghan. He attempts to throw Chan off, but the boy has grown stronger in the aftermonths. “You hurt them and I swear to god I will kill you. I will tear you apart!”

His glow is unmistakable, but also…

He doesn’t have a scratch on him.

After all — Jeonghan turns again to look at the moon-eyed under him — what damage can a bound and gagged moon-eyed do?

He lets go of his hand, and he lifts his weight off the moon-eyed right when the enraged human finally heaves Chan off him. The man scrambles up and over to the moon-eyed, shoving Jeonghan out of the way in the process, and drops to his knees at its side.

“Are you okay, baby?” he almost whispers as he sits the moon-eyed up, but Jeonghan hears him loud and clear. His hands gently cradle its face, as if it were delicate. “Are you hurt?”

Your blank, milky white eyes do nothing but stare forward. No response comes, nor does anything even close to recognition show on your face. To Jeonghan, you are as good as dead.

“Jeonghan,” Chan says softly, putting a hesitant hand on Jeonghan’s forearm. His eyes stay on the man and the moon-eyed, which he keeps coddling despite your lack of reaction. “What do we do…?”

Chan is one of those positive types. He wants to save everyone, and he’s a large part of the reason Jeonghan does now, too.

Jeonghan looks down at Chan’s hand on his arm. With his fucked up cheek and one glazed-over eye, he could be just like any other empty-headed, soulless moon-eyed to anyone who sees him. But Chan, he is okay with touching Jeonghan. He even asks to hold his hand sometimes when he can’t sleep. If Chan can care about his half zombified leader…

The man in front of them, shedding tears for the moon-eyed in his arms, is broken.

There’s something wrong with this, all of this, but Jeonghan clears his throat. “What’s your name?”

Hesitantly, the man turns to look up at him and Chan. “Seungcheol,” he says, voice hoarse. No doubt from the shortage of water in the area combined with his shouting.

Jeonghan crosses his arms. “I’m Jeonghan.” He tilts his head to his left. “This is Chan. Do you have a place to stay?”

Seungcheol’s arms wrap protectively tighter around you, and he furrows his brows at the two. “I’m not leaving them.”

“Never said you had to,” Jeonghan says, which prompts Chan’s jaw to drop before he clicks it back shut. Everyone deserves a chance. Everyone deserves a chance. It’s easier to repeat those words in his head than actually see to it. Jeonghan pushes the words out. “I’m sure we could…” He looks at the moon-eyed once more, and its eyes feel too much like a mirror. He swallows his fears. “...figure something out.”

Though a long moment passes in silence, Seungcheol eventually nods. “Did you hear that, baby?” he says to the moon-eyed, as if it can hear him. “We’re finally gonna have a home again.”

Jeonghan looks away, and he just starts walking in the direction of the base. He only glances back once, and he notices for the first time that rope is knotted in a sloppy, makeshift harness around the moon-eyed’s body. Seungcheol pulls it along by a leash.

Fuck.

What the hell did he just agree to?

188 notes · View notes

gayandfairycore · 8 months ago

Text

Just hold me

Summary: y/n pendragon, is well protected by the knights of the round table and her big brother but when they’re ambushed in the woods and the capable princess is hurt, Gwaine comes to her rescue. But is he too late to save her?

A/n: I love my Irish husband!! gwaines one of my absolute favourites, I Also couldn’t resist making him reader’s bodyguard ahh so cute!! Princess x bodyguard trope or well Princess x knight. I swear it does end in fluff (nothings ever permanent) Also c/h/n means childhood nickname.

Warning: blood, fighting, reader stabs people, readers kinda savage, until she gets owned, angst, major character death, gwaines a little ooc, grammar mistakes.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

The, cool breeze of the forest blew through your hair as the horses continued their trot through the woods neighbouring Camelot, your friends hyper aware of every sound, of every creak in the trees, that blew the leaves. They were wary of every rustling of breeze, and every old muddy footprint.

Everyone on edge since morgana turned a new leaf, and decided her siblings were her enemy and the crown was her life’s purpose, it made a heavy sadness linger in your heart. A great deal of dread that made your skin itch.

Your e/c eyes observed the surroundings, Arthur infront, Merlin beside him, you behind Merlin Gwaine next to you, and the rest of the knights littered all around you all in a protective circle, so that if your sister crawled out from the wood work and decided to attack you they would be ready. And prepared for a fight with the witch.

Out of the both of you Arthur had been taking her betrayal harder than you, he had been sulking in his room with Merlin more than usual and the loss of your father, it was a wound too fresh for the man.

From morganas betrayal, to uthers death, magic seemingly left only destruction in its wake, and Arthur’s life felt like it was falling apart. you were Arthur’s only hope.

the only one he had still on his side. still alive. If the boy was protective before he became even more protective after your sisters betrayal, so protective he assigned gwaine as your personal knight.

Smooth talking, drunk, sticks his hands in beehives, Beautiful, talented, quick witted, gwaine. You never wanted a personal guard but he was talented with a sword, and it helped he looked good in the uniform. So you weren’t too angry at your brother thinking you needed protection, you were fully capable of course you’d been sparing with Arthur since you were kids and beating him for just as long.

But no matter your skills you were defenceless against your sisters magic. everyone was.

You let out a nervous breath at the thought, the hairs on the back of your neck started to stand up your purple velvet cape obscuring your face but still you felt bare, like there were eyes on you.

Whirling your head around your eyes bore into the wooded bush a few meters away looking for any movement or any sign of life, you observed the bush with narrow eyes, paranoid.

“Are you alright Princess?” gwaine asked his horse matching your pace beside you, as he leaned to your ear, his hot breath fanning your face as he whispered. His brown eyes staring protectively at you.

“Hm? oh- yes fine…” you trailed off eyes never leaving the trees, your heart dropped to your stomach as you gripped the reigns tightly in your hands the leather straps rough against your skin as you squeezed tightly.

your twin daggers strapped to your hips, their weight giving you a sense of comfort as your brain started to catastrophize.

“You don’t look alright.” Gwaine pressed, his eyes flickering over your face protectively, You could tell he didn’t believe a thing you said. Ignoring the fluttering in your chest you couldn’t stop looking at the woods around you something felt off.

“There’s nothing there, princess.” The man reassured his voice stern but gentle, his hand placed over yours on the reigns. And his comforting hands over yours made you release your bruising grip on the reigns.

“I know, I just have…a bad feeling.” You murmur, your eyes swimming with worry a mix of familiar paranoia, and intuition.

gwaine was inclined to believe you and your bad feeling when he caught sight of a dark figure hidden behind trees.

The man had been hiding his own unsettling feeling since the moment your group ventured further into the forest, but Arthur appeared unaware of his sister, and her guards paranoia as he commanded the group, “we’ll stop here, let the horses rest.”

Arthur always had a voice that seemingly echoed even if he didn’t want it too, and by his tone of voice he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Your eyes locked with Gwaines and it appeared the man didn’t have enough energy to mask his emotions this time. Anxiety was present in his eyes. A wave of nausea washed over you.

As Arthur lead the seven of you to a small grassed area surrounded by trees a small stream only a few steps away the soft continuous flow of water hid the shakiness of your breaths as you shrugged your leg over your stallion, your leg leaving his stirrup as you hit the floor, Gwaine already circling around to you his reigns in hand as you lead your horses to the river.

“I have a bad feeling still. and I know you do too. Do not lie to me gwaine.” You pleaded to the man as you lead your horse to the stream and your hands run over your horses back as he drinks beside you. The cool breeze blowing under your cape.

“Please, Princess. I don’t want to worry you.” Gwaine eventually says his gaze lowered onto the stream at your feet.

“Please gwaine, you know nothing scares me.” You tease bumping his arm with yours but your voice betrays you it shakes as you speaks. you had lied to him you were scared. who wouldn’t be, you may have had the knights of Camelot to guard you but it would do nothing if you were caught by surprised and surrounded. Which was easier to do the longer you waited.

Gwaines gloved hand came out to hold yours in a tight grip, “nothing will happen to you princess I swear.” The dark haired man promises his dark eyes stern with promise.

Before you could reply to the man the whiz of an arrow souring past your head and shouts of your friends alert you to your fears and you whip your head up quickly looking into the trees around you, a large group of 60 men clad in dark clothes surrounded you.

Bandits working for morgana, great.

Sharing a look with Gwaine the man draws his sword and a smug smile graces his lips at the idea of a fight and you can’t help but think he looks really hot but the fight around you snaps you from your daydream and alerts you to pull your daggers from their sheaths.

And they glint dangerously in the light the shouts of your friends in your makeshift camp only a few few feet away, fades into nothingness far too focused on yourself and gwaine to worry for your friends. They had more knights than you and Gwaine did.

But by the sheer volume of bandits around, you and gwaine began to realise just how much trouble you’re really in. gravitating toward eachother you stood back to back as the leering bandits drew closer.

“Stay close Princess I’ll take majority. if they come at you, you know what to do?” Gwaine asked his sword out infront of him protectively

“Kill em?” You look up at the man with a tilt of your head a mischievous look in your eyes and the knight beside you laughs

“Yeah, kill em.” The raven haired man looks at you with a smug, slightly proud smirk on his face and he gentle elbows you to focus,

So you Hold up your daggers to protect your face an equally smug smile draws across your lips and in a blink of an eye the fight begins.

the silver sword of one man goes to come down on you and you parry it with ease holding it away from you as you slash across his chest with your other dagger, as his body leans to the side you plunge your weapon into his chest his blood staining your silver blade, and you watch in morbid curiosity as the man groans and he falls to the forest floor dead.

You don’t bat an eye at the corpse, Instead you find yourself ducking a long sword from another bandit as the whiz of arrows fly around you, you can’t see Gwaine in your periphery too busy avoiding the large man infront of you as he stalks toward you. no matter your height he seems to be giant.

“You’re going to die little dragon.” He laughs his voice like charcoal and his sword held easily in his hands

“No. I’m not.” You sneer spinning your dagger in your hand and planting your feet into the mud more as he goes to slash at your torso you leap backwards out of the way, he’s as slow as he is big but the power of his hits shake the very earth beneath your feet.

And what’s worse his powerful hits are full of accuracy, as he whirls around to hit you again and both daggers go to hold him off, the sounds of your blades grinding together hurts your ears and you grind your teeth determined to not die by this giant.

pushing his sword to the ground you surge forward planting your dagger into an artery by his leg in retaliation the giants blade comes towards you at full force his swing takes you off guard and you narrowly miss his blow that was meant to sever your head from your neck. and in doing so you don’t pay attention to the pain that lands itself in your shoulder.

The adrenaline masks any pain, but you’re angry now the smug smile of the bandit infront of you angers you so much you take your dagger in your hand and fling it into the eye of the giant Infront of you and the sharpness of your dagger embeds itself into his eye socket. His eye makes a horrid squish as blood and juices squirt. And the man drops dead beside you. Bus long sword falling beside him.

You sneer and grab your dagger from his eye and as you pull it from the socket more blood squirts, you exclaim in disgust as his blood stains your face

An angry shout from a small dirty blonde bandit fills the air as he makes quick action toward you his battle cry falling on deaf ears and you go to throw your dagger, gwaine beats you too it his sword lacerate the man’s throat and he falls dead easily.

Breathing a sigh of relief you look to the brunette knight and he nods in respect before going to fight more of the approaching bandits.

The sound of twigs breaking behind you urge you to duck and you narrowly miss a sword meant for your head instead you grab the man’s arm and fling him over you as he hits the ground with a groan, he lays underneath you as you prepare to plunge your dagger in his chest. his legs sweep yours and you too end up on your back beside the man and your weapon lays just out of reach as the man crawls ontop of you.

His hands grip your throat tightly and your eyes blow wide in panic as your claw at his hands it’s useless so your fingers vacate to his face and your fingers lodge into his eye sockets as his grip on your throat tightens

“Come on!” Your mind screams at you as blackness swims in your vision before a sword lodges through the man’s chest and drenches you in his blood Gwaine is there standing above you as he watches you cough desperate for air. His eyes filled with worry as he gives you his hand helping you to your feet as you continue to wheeze lungs screaming for air.

“Are you alright princess?!” His hands grip your biceps as he pulls you to his chest hands holding the back of your head in worry

“I’m fine, pretty boy. Thanks for saving me.” You nod at the man but your hands shake as gwaine hands you your discarded weapons the daggers bring you comfort as you look at the world around you still there are more bandits around you but it appears many have dissipated.

Whether they have retreated, or they’ve gone to cause your friends havoc you aren’t sure but you can’t find yourself to worry for your friends. You’re too busy looking into gwaines chocolate brown eyes, and you can’t help but place a kiss to gwaines cheek when you pull back from his bearded face you catch sight of an approaching man.

“DUCK!” You scream and the knight ducks just in time. You quickly bring one of your dagger to block their sword as they manoeuvre their blade back and then you both fall into a kind of deadly dance pushing further and further away from Gwaine. Your blades mash against each other and you continue to miss his slashes and jabs.

The bandit moves his sword quickly, too quick to dodge and he manages to cut off a piece of your hair and slice your cheek your blood begins to trickle down your face and in anger you jam your dagger through his leather armour and directly into the man’s heart.

His blade falls from his hold and he drops limply. His eyes glare at you the entire time his body fails him. The body collapses onto the bottom of you cape staining the purple darker with blood and you make the decision to cut the latch dropping your cloak so that nothing holds you down.

Your tunic, and pants cling to your body tightly stained with the blood of your enemies, you don’t care not about the bodies littering the forest floor, or the wetness in your boot from stepping through the stream for better ground to fight on. Not about your friends and if they’re fighting an onslaught of bandits. All you care about is not dying.

The volume of men have dipped significantly but there are still 4 or 5 of them and one man left is an archer quickly loading his bow and releasing the arrows at yourself and Gwaine, if you two were worse fighters he would’ve loaded quite a few into the pair of you marching toward the man you hold your daggers outward crimson blood drops from the tip and soaks quickly into the squishy mud ridden forest floor. The bandit quickly loads an arrow and lets it fly, you avoid his shot with ease ducking beneath it he knocks another and fires it in quick succession and you find yourself skidding against the mud it coats your pants as you miss his fire and the man is panicked now as you stand up,

And you watch his hands shake as he tries to load his bow, it’s too late, you’re on top of the man. “Please! Please your grace, Spare me. I have children! please” He whimpers beneath you and your heart aches in your chest

As your eyes rake the man’s figure you make the decision to hit him over the head with the butt of your dagger and you don’t spare the man another glance before you walk away.

Turning your back to the archer you observe the carnage, Gwaine had gotten quite a few bandits defeated in quick time, the man now intense fight with probably the best bandit here. he’s quick, and talented with a sword.

But Gwaine keeps his own, and you deem it safe enough to not watch the man anymore instead you find yourself up against the final man he’s large like the man you fought before, but this man is smart.

And his dagger drips with something other than blood, a deep blue, oozing liquid? poison. You quickly realise

And now you’re sure you never want to let this man’s weapon touch you. his stinking grey teeth peak through his lips as he sizes you up, the princess of Camelot, clearly exhausted. Clearly covered in a mix of blood and mud, and very obviously in pain. The giants sword from before had managed to rattle your teeth with his hit but you’d been so distracted it hadn’t even registered. clearly the adrenaline of your other injuries had began to wear off.

And This man is quicker then expected as he hurries to you, his sword cuts through the air like butter and he’s clearly just as skilled as the man battling against gwaine. And looking back on it they seemed to be twins.

the moment his blade comes too close for comfort you’re parrying his strike, and the grinding of blades are deafening in your ears.

the ache in your shoulder swells through you the gruesome cut oozing and it makes your strength falter you move slower the burning pain shooting through your shoulder sends you waves of more then just discomfort.

you feel bile well in your throat but you don’t falter as you slash at the bandit he avoids it with ease, every duck, every twirl, every slice, he avoids.

It’s like he’s been watching you? observing your moves? and it’s abundantly clear even with the exhaustion plaguing your muscles and the slick mud beneath you. It makes you worried.

Springing back away from the man you slash at his shoulder nicking him with the blade and watching as he cringes back in more annoyance than pain. and when his sword goes to make contact with your body you duck away from the man until eventually you find yourself behind him

just when things began to look up, just when you were finally winning.

Until The pained shout from gwaine only a few feet away causes you to lose focus and your gaze is set on the Irish man on the floor his chain mail dirty, his face covered in blood and mud, his hair a mess, and a sword held above the man. In a deadly fashion.

And your body moves before your mind and you find yourself flinging your dagger into the bandits back watching satisfied as the man falls dead over the top of gwaine, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight you completely forget that you were mid fight with a bandit yourself. A bandit with a blade coated in poison.

“Y/n!” Before you can get your bearings in order gwaines shouting Your name

And you turn just in time to see the man drive his sword in your side and you whip your head up to look at the man who just stabbed you a horrid smile on his face, as the sharp searing pain of a sword impaling you burns your insides. your warm blood trickles from the wound around the sword, and you drop your spare dagger to the floor unconsciously you seemingly have no control of your body, and your eyes shine with unshead tears. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your entire life like the world is spinning and your side feels like it’s on fire.

The man stand carelessly above you smiling a sickly smile as he rips his blade out of you and you don’t muffle your shout of pain, you know you’re going to die when the man brings his sword up to cut you down and your tears fall you can’t bare to look at his face your mind filling with thoughts of gwaine if you were going to die you’d die with the man you loved on your mind.

Shutting your eyes tightly you expect the killing blow, only to feel nothing? Cracking an eye open Gwaine’s sword embeds itself directly in the bandits heart, you watch as gwaine pulls his sword out quickly and rushes to your aid as he watches your knees buckle. And you don’t go to stop your knees from colliding with the mud instead your shaky hands go to hold your bleeding wound, your hand immediately stain with blood when they come into contact with the wound.

Gwaine Holds your bloody form in his arms your hands stained with your blood you feel sick to your stomach, and sweat begins to break on your forehead, you feel like you’re already losing feeling in your feet.

As Gwaines strong arms wrap around you as the knight lifts you up against him, his arms around your knees and shoulders respectively.

He moves quickly to the rest of the knights, and despite the delirius state you’re in from the lack of blood you can only heart your heart beat in your ears but everytime he runs you see a glimpse of his face and you can see he’s screaming.

Your heart constricts in your chest and you whimper in his arms “j-just hold me.”

the man looks down at you with eyes full of tears and that shine with something akin to love. But almost as quickly as the shine came its gone, replaced with fear. It makes Gwaine tighten his grip on you and scream louder

And through the blurriness of your vision you see your brothers scared face break the tree line and b-line to you, as your head lulls to the side you watch Arthur get closer to you and you feel him take you in his arms, sobs escape the young kings as he slumps to his knees you in his embrace “y/n- c/h/n, please don’t do this to me.”

Arthur mutters rocking you back and forth and you see Merlin over his shoulder, face white as a ghost. Hands tightly held over his mouth, and the last thing you see is the servant boy boss the knights around with commands about how to help you, before the darkness takes you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

There’s a guttural ache in your bones from the fight and a dull burning from your stomach it’s accompanied with a hard pressure on your wound that makes you yell out a sickening blood curdling scream and by the feeling of multiple hands holding you down to stop the thrashing it’s abundantly clear Merlin’s trying his best to save you.

Your brothers hands are familiar as they grip your shoulders, holding you down, you’re alive, mentally you’re awake but you can’t open your eyes.

You can’t control your own twitching body, the wet feeling of your sticky blood on your side, but you can hear every little thing around you, and yet you still can’t open your eyes and there’s this horrible wheezing sound.

And you come to realise it’s your breathing…it feels like you’re breathing through sand and every breath you take fills your lungs with sand like an hour glass.

and then you feel that familiar pressure on your wound and suddenly you feel everything, every burning stabbing sensation, all over your body it burns as quickly and as hot as a wild fire and it feels like hours before you finally feel absolutely nothing again.

And you think maybe it lasts for awhile, but there’s no way to tell time. It’s funny when you can see nothing but the back of your eyelids and the world is dark and you can’t feel the muddy floor beneath your back. you can’t feel the sticks, and the dirt, and the sound of the stream, you can’t smell your brothers familiar scent, you can’t feel the wetness of your boot, or the dried blood on your body, and you can’t see gwaines face.

Or hear his comforting voice, you can’t discern anything but blankness and you half think you’ve stopped breathing. As if your very lungs don’t heave against the poison in your blood stream anymore

But you think whilst you’re trapped in darkness that Your nose bleeds, and your mouth fills with red blood and those who surround your body begin to realise how dire every second is.

Merlin is the only one who can save you. He’s the only one who can rip deaths cold hands from your body and ground you to earth. your chest doesn’t rise.

and those around you know you’re dead. And you can’t feel it yourself, like your spirit is lifting from the cage that is your body up into the sky, ripping through you and part of you is ready to go.

But Gwaine and Merlin will not allow it, Gwaine drops beside your body his hands pumping your chest to start your heart and his lips are on yours pumping oxygen into your lungs.

and it gives Merlin enough time to mutter a healing spell his eyes glow gold and its mere moments that your translucent spirit ripping from your vessel slams back into your body.

Gwaine still continues his assault on your ribs breathing air into your lungs, he ignores the metallic taste from your lips, and he pleads with every god he can that you will come back to him.

And it’s almost as if the gods deem him worthy.

And you wake up gasping for air springing up from your brothers hold your eyes snapping open your chest heaves with effort to fill your lungs and your heart beat is sluggish before beating hard and strong against your chest.

And Merlin’s hands are on your side checking your wound the gaping hole sealed, and Your wound is practically gone. The servant boy quickly bandages your side before anyone can notice but his bandages

Can’t hide the gross greeny purple tendrils that peak out from the off white plaster. Your side feels clean but the blood still sticks to your face and the pain in your side and shoulder still lingers but you can’t bring yourself to care when gwaine gently takes you from your brothers embrace and hold you so gently against him.

“Oh Princess, never do that to me again.” His calloused hands hold you against him tightly and he tries to mask their shaking.

But you don’t care pulling back from his holds Your eyes take his figure and you can’t help yourself, You smash your lips against his and his beard tickles your skin. and it takes him no time to kiss back his lips mash against yours in a feverish kiss. It’s like your lips fit together perfectly and you find yourself wishing to never let go of the knight in front of you.

His tears fall onto your skin and you don’t care, you pull him closer to your body and you don’t care when your lungs burn screaming for air.

You never want to be apart from him.

Not when you just tasted the sour nothingness of death. It doesn’t wait. It’s cold, and uncaring.

And Gwaine feels your hands shake as you pull him closer his heart physically hurts for you he’s sure you’re probably freaking out.

After you pull back from your kisses you look at the faces of your friends around you, Arthur’s blood shot eyes filled with tears stare at you with such fear, such uncertainty.

the ghostly look in his eyes as he looks at you tugs your heart strings. You realise he can’t differentiate if you’re truly here. And alive he had just seen his sister die. And be brought back.

Of course it would be a lot to process.

beside you Merlin his shaky hands and nervous smile his red hands stained with your blood, and his wet teary face that looks so scared as he looks at you with a mixture of nervousness at the use of his magic and happiness you’re alive.

And your eyes flicker to everyone around you from Leon, who you’ve known since childhood- to elyan, and Percival. who you haven’t known for such a long time but still felt their world shake when your heart stopped beating. You were their princess to see you die in front of them…it was heavy.

Your dead body would haunt them for the rest of their days,the cold desolate blue of your lips and the way your head lulled in gwaines arms.

Tears littered everyone’s eyes as your brother and Gwaine were the first to pull you into an embrace the rest of your friends quickly followed, their iron grip on you brought you so much love and peace.

A chorus of “I’m glad you’re alive” to “good to have you back” ranged from your friends before elyan was the first person to suggest moving to a safer area the unsettling feeling of the corpses scattered around you all made you uneasy, it especially made Gwaine the most uneasy, the man couldn’t stop his intrusive thoughts what if it was you they were leaving behind? What if you died and your corpse was left to decay on the muddy floor of the forest no one around to mourn you it made him feel a bit unwell.

So finally you all high tailed it out of there to a new camp well maned by your friends, a camp where absolutely no one could ambush you. Where it was safe enough for Merlin to patch up your friends injuries.

And night fell quickly the stars shone overhead the green grass served as a pillow under your head and the rocks surrounding you like a barrier from bandits.the ruins of an old castle like a comforting shield and The slight hill you all now camped on was far out of the forest of the rival kingdom where you all were ambushed, finally on safe ground.

Merlin had stayed close to you for most of the early evening to ensure you were alright. And that he didn’t seal up any left over poison.

Crickets chirped in the back ground as yourself and Merlin sat in silence staring at the fire. You turned to the boy, speaking gently “thank you, I know what you did.”

You smiled at the boy, a knowing glint in your eye and Merlin felt his heart drop as he shrugged

“It’s what anyone would have done, milady. I’m glad you’re still with us” Merlin smiled kindly he had a soft spot for the youngest pendragon she was always kind to him, and unlike her sister her perception of him didn’t change. Out of every pendragon she was probably the one Merlin trusted with his secrets the most.

You were Always clever and observant, you were definitely someone he’d protect with his life just like Arthur.

“That’s the thing though, Merlin. I was gone…I wasn’t- my heart stopped” you struggled to find the words putting your legs to your chest as you watched the flames

“I was dead. I felt my heart stop, my heart knew what was happening my- my soul? Was leaving my body and something pulled me back in. It wasn’t Gwaines kiss of life although it did help” you chuckled before you became serious again “It was you Merlin.” You spoke your voice shaky but sure of yourself as you looked the boy in his terrified eyes

“Please y/n It’s not like that.” Merlin pleaded, his hand reaching for you and his skin getting sweaty and nervous at the thought of the youngest pendragon knowing he had magic, it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her on the contrary he trusted her whole heartedly but he was always nervous to let people in on his magic it tended to get them killed.

Will, His father, Lancelot… Merlin hated how his magic could save lives but in the end he’s always lose something he hoped this time things would be different.

“I know magic when I see it Merlin, don’t worry I’d never tell. You saved my life. I should have you knighted” You smiled at the boy, before bumping your shoulders together.

“Oh please don’t-“ Merlin started disgust in his voice at the idea of joining your friends as a knight laughing at Merlin’s horrified face

“Don’t worry, I won’t. But really thank you Merlin. You deserve more credit” you smiled at the boy before pushing off of the ground and making your way to Gwaine over by the ruins watching the stars through the window on the second story lost in thought

“Mind if I join you?” You called, watching as the Irish man jumped clumsily almost falling through the window.

“Not not at all, please sit” Gwaine replied shuffling over sitting beside the man you watched the stars from the window in silence for a moment

“I’m sorry” you both spoke at the same time, swallowing a laugh at the unintentional overlap

“You go” you pressed sitting up and looking at Gwaine intently

“I’m sorry, I’m the reason you died…I didn’t protect you. It was my only job and I let you get stabbed.” Gwaine shook his head the man couldn’t bare to look at you in your eyes too afraid he’d see your lifeless ones staring back in a way he was thankful your eyes shut when you died.

In a way it looked like you were sleeping, only the lack of a rise and fall of your chest showed gwaine that you weren’t just sleeping. You were dead and it was gwaines fault.

The man blamed himself, kept running through the last battle moments over and over in his head. If he didn’t shout, if he was quieter maybe everything could have been avoided, or if he listened to your funny feeling maybe you all never would have even been ambushed.

It made Gwaine start to appreciate his friends “funny feelings” something Merlin and the youngest pendragon both shared Gwaine couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head that he was the reason everything happened.

“Gwaine” you placed your hand over his, “it wasn’t your fault, I know what you’re doing. Stop blaming yourself.” Your grip on gwaines hands tightened trying to reassure him it could have happened to anyone.

“But I should have listened to you. I didn’t and you died! You fucking died!” Gwaine cries, his hands cover his mouth to mask his sob he’s striped himself of his chain mail now he’s left wearing a blue tunic and a leather bangle that clings to his muscley arm you know it’s not the right time but god does he look good.

“Gwaine.” You shout shaking his shoulders so he’ll finally look at you

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You sigh in the silver light of the moon, its only Gwaine and yourself in the ruins and you want to take full advantage of that

“Yes Princess”

#Gwaine x reader #bbc merlin imagine #bbc Merlin x reader #gwaine x fem reader #gwaine #bbc merlin

115 notes · View notes

xanaxspritz · 8 months ago

Note

hi🥰🥰 i just saw your post about requests being open so here i am, brain filled with suguru worms🧎 i’ve been daydreaming sm about living a slow, romantic cottage-core life with this man. would you consider doing headcanons for that?🥹

an: wrote this in an aiport lol. set after suguru declares war on jujutsu high but doesn't die. escapes in exile with sorcerer!reader. this got a little dark sorry!

cw: a bit of tradwifery (sorry), possessiveness, vomiting, impregnation

you're still getting used to the country life. it's nice and tranquil. there's a few yuzu trees surrounding the cottage you and suguru inhabit and a strawberry field by the lake that's less than a mile away from the house. suguru moved you two to the japanese countryside after narrowly escaping death after the war against jujutsu high to lay low for a while, but his grip on you has only gotten stronger after leaving tokyo.

you made do with what you had. fleeing so quickly meant no time to pack. a part of you missed the temple, the people, the friends you made, and the huge master bedroom you and suguru shared (the cottage bedroom wasn't half the size). but suguru insisted that this tiny cottage would be the best chance from gojo or anyone from jujutsu high to find him, so here you were, bright and early fixing suguru breakfast.

"smells great darling," he says smiling as you pour the hot green tea into his teacup. "will you not have any yourself?"

"no, im not hungry," you shrug.

"hmm."

you sit in comfortable silence for a bit, looking out the window next to the table while he goes back to reading the paper. you knew you should feel lucky to be here, the village was so pretty and picturesque, and the villagers were so welcoming. you knew you should feel even luckier that surguru chose you, yes you, to run away with him. he fucks you harder now, rougher and more impulsively than the carefully calculated man that he was before. he cums inside you now, every single time as if he was trying to get you pregnant. maybe he's taking his frustrations out on you, or maybe he's just showing you how much he really loves you, and it would be a lie to say you didn't like it.

you feel his big hands rub your knee under the table, taking you out of your thoughts.

"you look like you're thinking about something," he raises an eyebrow.

"oh! it's nothing. just thinking about tokyo I guess," you say.

"I believe there's a festival in the village today. would my pretty girl like to get some sweets? we'll walk there together."

your ears perk up. "really?" you ask. maybe they'll have matcha dango you loved getting from the stand nearby the temple. maybe they'll even have candy apples. "I would love to go."

walking hand in hand, you stroll to the village center for the festival. suguru holds your hand tight, squeezing it, giving you a small, sweet, smile.

"I know it hasn't been easy for you," he begins "but you're doing a wonderful job. always so obedient, so caring of me. one day, I would like you make you my wife."

you're heart beats faster after the mention of "wife". this was the first time he's ever said the word. could this really be happening?

"I would be honored to," you grin unable to hide your excitement. for the rest of the day, you're elated and bubbly at the possible idea that one day you'll be suguru's permanently.

xxx xxx xxx xxx

he fucks you fast and hard that night, you take every inch of his dick a the good girl you are, leaving his dick inside of you overnight while you sleep in his embrace. the next morning you feel a wave of nausea, throwing up until you puke clear liquid from the depths of your stomach. it could be forming eating too many deserts, but you pull a pregnancy test form behind the mirror cabinet in the bathroom just to be safe, and wait the five longest minutes of your life to find the stick displaying two bright blue lines. your heart sinks.

"suguru...i think.. i might.." you say coming out of the bathroom finding him at the dining table, tears begin welling in your eyes. "I'm pregnant!" you blurt out, shoving the pregnancy test towards him.

he gingerly grabs the stick, taking a few minutes to process the news and then sinks down to his knees at your feet, peppering thousands of kisses at your navel.

"i've been waiting for this moment," he says rubbing your belly. "i cant want to see youre body grow with my child, youre gonna make such a good mama, i promise."

suguru stands up to wipe your tears away, giving you a big hug. you were finally bound to him forever. with his essence inside you and a baby on the way, you could never leave him even if you tried. he rubs your back, letting you sob on his shoulder. you are his for the rest of time.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #suguru geto smut #geto x female reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto x y/n #geto smut #jujutsu geto #requests

61 notes · View notes

blooming-violets · 1 year ago

Text

Hold My Hand (sequel to Bring Your Kids to Work Day)

[tasm!peter x fem!reader]

Summary: [link to part one] The trauma of a fire scars more than just the flesh. A sequel to the “Dragging themselves along the ground” prompt.

A/N: This is for @moonyslove78 only but I suppose you can read it too if you’d like.

Six months.

That’s how long it had been since the incident.

Not fire.

Incident.

You couldn’t say the word “fire” anymore. You couldn’t think of it. You couldn’t hear it. That word no longer existed in the English language. Peter knew that. Anything involving the incident was off limits. The last time he had mentioned it was when he asked if you wanted to attend Harrison’s funeral. The way your eyes widened, blurring out of focus, the way your hands started to tremble, the way your breath caught in your throat, made him immediately retract that question. You had been transported back to a time that he couldn’t see, a memory he could only imagine from what was told to him, and one he wished he could steal from your brain to claim as his own. He knew he couldn’t lift your burden. He couldn’t take on your trauma.

It didn’t stop him from trying, though.

Peter was supposed to fix things. He was a protector. He was supposed to keep you safe. He had saved your body from the burning building but your mind had been left behind. It had incinerated in the flames like the charred, blackened corpse of Harrison.

He attended the funeral on your behalf. It was a closed casket. Obviously. Some bodies are not meant to be shown after death. Peter had smiled politely and sent your regards to his family. He tried not to stare too long at the young man’s weeping sister. She looked no older than thirteen. She gripped tightly onto her mother’s hand. He received his own flashbacks of Gwen’s younger brothers’ clinging to their mother, unable to fully comprehend the weight of what was occurring before them.

If he had to pretend like the fire never happened, for your sake, then he would do his best. The weeks after, any newspaper article, any internet post, any television story was banned from your apartment. He made no mention of what happened. The only time it was referenced was when you needed to have the burns, seared into your skin, looked after. Your right hand was no longer able to open and extend fully from the scarring on your palm and fingers. You would have permanent scarring along your arm, as well. They were a constant visual reminder of what happened that afternoon and he often found you with your right arm hidden behind your back to keep it out of view.

You hated the heat now. Even throughout the winter you kept your air conditioning on. Peter spent his winter with a persistent, unshakable cold from being constantly exposed to the frigid air. Anything to keep you happy. He tried to keep your days as normal as possible. You didn’t like to go outside because you felt like you had to be on constant alert around other people but you hated the feeling of being trapped indoors. Peter found a happy compromise by breaking open the lock to your apartment roof and letting you find solace outdoors without the wandering eyes of curious strangers. He hauled two old armchairs up there that May no longer needed. It gave you two some place to sit and stare down at the city street.

You were up there now. You always were. During the day, his duty was to keep your mind occupied. During the night, his duty was to hold you tightly for every night terror that plagued your screaming mind. He would fend off the horrors and keep you safe any way he could.

“You can’t keep pretending like it never happened,” May whispered across the small, round table to her nephew. She had stopped by this morning to drop off leftovers and check in on how things were going. She was appalled at him when he told her the truth. “This is no life for her, Peter.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, and staring out your kitchen window. She had no need to whisper. You couldn’t hear her up on the roof.

“She’s not ready,” he replied.

“She’ll never be ready. No one is ever ready to face their trauma. It’s reaching the six month anniversary. It’s time you started talking about it. She needs to get it out,” May reached a hand across the table to pat his arm. “When Ben left us, I wanted to pretend like it was all a terrible dream. I wanted to disappear into the safest parts of my mind where he still existed and block out the rest of the world. But you can’t heal like that. To heal, you must talk about it. You have to get her talking, Peter, before she slips away forever. She needs you to listen to her and hold her hand while she battles her demons. She doesn’t need you to play pretend with fake smiles and act like everything is wonderful.”

Peter closed his eyes. The only time he was able to heal from Gwen was when he started talking about it. May had been the one to listen. She had been the one to hold his hand and guide him through the loss. He should be strong enough to pass that on to the person he loved.

“I’m scared,” he mumbled. “I’m scared it will hurt her too much.”

“It will,” she replied. “It will be painful. It will be hard. But she needs to face what happened. She can’t live on the roof forever, honey. She needs your help to find her way again.”

He gave a solemn nod, “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Hey,” Peter whispered as he came up behind you.

The sun was starting to set over the buildings. Spring was bringing in warmer weather but dusk was still chilly. You wore nothing but short sleeves as you started out into the horizon. When he looked at you now, you felt empty to him, like your very essence had been stolen from your body. His eyes traveled down to your right arm. The skin was wrinkled and leathery. Your fist was partially closed as it rested against the ledge you leaned on. He reached out to place his hand over your closed one.

“It’s getting chilly out here. Do you want my coat?”

When you didn’t respond, he shrugged off his coat and tucked it around your shoulders.

“How are you feeling?”

Still nothing. He might as well be speaking to a mannequin. He took a deep breath to brace himself for his next sentence. His arm reached out in front of you to subconsciously block your path should you decide to suddenly throw yourself off the building.

“I just got off the phone with Jenny. She told me all about the kids.”

Peter watched carefully for your reaction. After May left, he made a call to your former coworker. It had been too long since he checked on Ollie and Ellie. He spoke to Jenny for over an hour. She told him all about her kids’ healing process. They seemed to be doing alright. Ollie was completely back to his usual self and Ellie had her good and bad days. Both kids had been asking about you for months now.

You blinked a few times as the news set in. Your head tilted to the side.

“I don’t know a Jenny,” you mumbled under your breath.

Peter shuffled closer, standing his ground, “Yes. You do. She’s the mother of Ollie and Ellie. You worked with her. She shared a desk beside you.”

Your shoulders tensed and you shook your head, “No. I don’t know those people. You’re confused.”

He sighed, stepping forward to gently capture your cheek in his palm, turning your head to face him, “Look at me. You know them. Ellie’s been asking for you. She wants to see you.”

You whimpered, trying to turn your head away from him, but he held you steady, “No…I don’t…”

“Yes.” Peter’s voice was firm but his eyes shone with tears. “You know them. You saved them. From the fire.”

You flinched, stumbling back out of his grasp, “No. Stop.”

“You were in a fire. You were trapped in a burning building.”

Your hands clasped against your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut, “Stop it, Peter!”

He gently pulled your arms back down to his side, wrapping them around his waist, “No. You stop it. You were trapped inside a building with two children. Ellie and Ollie. You took care of them. You got them out. You saved them. It happened. It wasn’t pretend. It wasn’t a dream. It was real.”

Tears streamed down your face. You tighten your grip around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “No…you saved them…”

“Not me,” Peter whispered. He nuzzled his face against the side of your head, holding you protectively in his arms. “I didn’t know where you were. You got Ellie to safety. You called me. You told me where to go. All I did was break a wall. You saved those kids. And those kids want to see you again. Jenny told me Ellie talks about you every night. She’s…struggling with what happened. I think seeing you again would really help her. You’re the only other person who understands what that little girl went through. I think you can help each other.”

You were silent for a long time. He didn’t press any further for now. Baby steps. You cried softly into his shirt while he stroked your hair. He whispered how much he loved you and how strong he thought you were into your ear. He waited until you were ready.

You took a shaky breath followed by a coughing spell. Your lungs were weaker after the fire. Your voice often suffered from hoarseness and you would fall into coughing fits every so often. He waited until you were finished before pulling back slightly, grasping onto your shoulders, and looking into your watery eyes.

You were still in there. Somewhere.

He would find you and pull you free.

“Please,” Peter rested his forehead against yours. “I need you to do this with me. I want you to meet those kids. I need you to start healing. If you can’t start healing for yourself then start with helping a sweet, scared, little girl with her own healing. They need you. I need you. I’m afraid you’re slipping away from me.”

You lifted your good hand up to his cheek and wiped away a tear. He hadn’t even realized he had been crying. You gave him a soft smile. It was the first one he saw since the day he pulled you from the flames.

“I’m not going anywhere, P. I’m here. I’m not leaving you. Promise.”

“It was so nice of you to agree to this,” Jenny led you and Peter into their family's town house.

You two agreed to babysit the kids while their parents went out for a quick dinner. It was about a month after your rooftop talk. Peter wanted to bring you more back down to earth before exposing you to the children. You weren’t in a perfect place but you were coherent enough to not frighten them. Jenny and her husband were aware of your situation. They agreed to let you watch them for only an hour or two while they were just down the street. If there were any troubles, they would be back in less than five minutes. Jenny was struggling with getting through to Ellie. According to her, Ollie’s excitement over meeting Spider-Man overtook any fear he had from being trapped in a bathroom during the fire but Ellie was silent. She was withdrawn and short tempered. She suffered from nightmares and bed wetting. Jenny was worried she couldn’t reach her daughter as much as she’d like. That’s where you could come in. You were there. You knew what she went through. You could answer the child’s questions better than anyone.

“They’re in the playroom. They’ve already eaten dinner and are in their pjs. You won’t need to put them to bed. We can do that when we get home. Just…play with them and keep them safe. I’m sure Ollie will talk your ear off.” Jenny paused, mulling over something in her mind. “You know, before the fire, it was always Ellie who never stopped talking. Now…well…now it seems like Ollie feels the need to pick up the slack and fill her silence. They sleep in the same bed every night. He wants to protect her. I won’t let him sleep with his Spider-Man mask on so he keeps it tucked under his pillow instead. He said it helps keep Ellie safe from the nightmares.”

Peter glanced over at you. Your jaw was locked tight and your body was stiff. Talking about the fire was still difficult for you. Hearing so much about the twins was starting to overload your emotions. He wondered if this was a mistake. It might be too soon.

“It’s okay,” he leaned over to whisper in your ear. “Hold my hand. I’m right here.”

You took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. He tried to imagine his own strength leaving his body and entering into you where your hands connected.

Jenny paused at the door to the playroom to give the two lovers a sad smile, “Like we said earlier, if you need us to come home early, please don’t hesitate to ask. We know this is a big deal. If Ellie asks anything you don’t feel comfortable answering, just tell her to ask us when we get home. You can talk openly with them. Their therapist says that it’s good to speak the truth instead of sugar coating everything. They might be young but their trauma is real and they should be able to talk about it however they need to. They don’t need adults to downplay what they went through.” She steadied herself and put on a smile for show, opening the playroom door. “Look who’s here, guys!”

Ollie looked up from his spot on the floor where he was building a block tower and smiled, “I know you! You gave us lollipops.”

Lollipops. Out of everything that happened that afternoon, that’s how he remembered you. Peter almost laughed at the beautiful innocence of it but held it in. He could feel you tensing up beside him. He gave your hand a squeeze.

“You must be Ollie,” he stepped in to cover for you while you better composed yourself. Seeing the twins again must have brought back a flood of memories. “My name’s Peter. I’m going to help watch you guys tonight, if that’s okay with you.” They had only ever met Spider-Man, not Peter. He was much less exciting without a mask.

Ollie looked at him suspiciously, “I dunno. Do you like Spider-Man? What about Paw Patrol?”

Peter smiled. From the corner of his eye he saw you give a tug of a smile too.

“I’m Spider-Man’s second biggest fan. I heard you’re his number one. I don’t know much about Paw Patrol but I’m sure you could teach me everything you know.”

Ollie beamed, “Then you can stay with us. He likes Spider-Man, Ellie!”

He looked over to his sister. Ellie hadn’t moved from her spot curled up on the couch. She was staring up at the ceiling with a picture book resting over her chest. She hadn’t made any acknowledgment towards them since they entered. It was like she was stuck in a daydream. It was a look Peter had become all too familiar with these past months.

Ollie waved his hand at her, “Ellie! Hello? I’m talkin’ to you.” His tiny shoulders sagged when he got no response. “She’s too busy thinking right now. She’ll be back later.”

From beside Peter, you finally stirred to life, “It’s okay. I get lost thinking too much, too. We can wait until she finds her way back.” You dug into your pocket and pulled out two lollipops. “I knew I couldn’t show up today empty handed. Would you like some dessert?”

Ollie ran over to you to snatch one out of your hand as you offered it to him, “Thank you!” He looked to his mother for approval before digging into the treat.

Jenny sighed, “I think we’ll be off. We’ll be just down the street. You have both our numbers. Oliver, you be on your best behavior. Show your guests where everything is in the house if they need anything. Ellie, darling…” She walked over to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “You be good, sweetie. Mommy will be back really soon. If you need me for anything, you ask for the phone to call me, okay?” She turned around to smile at Peter. “Thank you. We’ll text you in about twenty minutes to make sure everything is going well.”

He smiled back, “We’ll be fine. You guys have fun.”

He watched as they left the room and he listened to the front door click locked behind them. He turned his attention to you. Your muscles had lost some of their tension but you still stood rigidly beside him, clinging onto his hand. Your eyes were trained on Ellie as she stared up at the ceiling. He followed your gaze. The young girl’s blonde hair was splayed out over the couch cushion. She looked lost in thought. It was nearly the exact same look you had worn for the last six months. The fire had aged the child faster than anyone was prepared for. Her eyes held the secrets and horrors only you could understand.

Peter gave your shoulder a nudge. He nodded in Ellie’s direction, signaling with his eyes that you should go talk to her. A look of panic flashed across your face. He brushed his thumb over your hand.

“It’s okay,” he silently mouthed. “You can do this.”

You took a deep breath and slipped your hand from his. He watched as you slowly made your way over to Ellie and kneel down beside her.

“Hi,” your voice was soft and gentle. Peter could detect the hint of sadness in it. “You don’t have to look at me if you don’t want to. I’m sure seeing my face might bring back a lot of painful memories. I have them, too. The painful memories. Sometimes they feel so big that I feel like I can’t breathe and they’re choking all the air out of my lungs. Other times they make me feel lost inside my own mind. Like I’m wandering a dark hallway forever and can’t find my way out. You don’t have to look at me, Ellie, if it makes you feel like that, but I want you to know that I’m here. For you. I’m here for you. And I will sit quietly beside you until you feel ready.”

You sat down with your back leaning against the couch. Peter gave you a soft smile, his eyes trying to convey how proud of you he felt.

“I was saved by Spider-Man, you know.” Ollie popped the lollipop out of his mouth and tugged at Peter’s hand. “He punched through a wall and flew through the air with us. He kissed Ellie on the mouth to make her come back to life.”

Peter grinned and plopped down onto the ground in front of him, “I don’t think he was kissing her, Ol. He was probably giving her CPR. That’s when someone helps blow air into someone else’s lungs when they need help breathing.”

Ollie mimicked his crossed legged position on the ground, “Oh. I never heard of CRP before. The lollipop girl was there, too. Spider-Man didn’t like when she wouldn’t open her eyes.”

Your back was straighter than usual as Peter carefully watched you from the corner of his eye. Your breaths were getting heavy but you seemed to be able to keep them under control.

He smiled over at Ollie, “Spider-Man likes to save people. I’m sure he was just worried that someone he was supposed to save wasn’t feeling very well.”

Ellie shot up from her spot on the couch. Her hair was knotted in the back and stuck out at crazy angles as if she’d been laying in that spot for a very long time. She turned dark eyes to glare at Peter.

“Spider-Man is bad at his job,” she huffed. “He didn’t come soon enough. We almost got dead like that one man. He should of helped us sooner. I hate him. He’s not a hero. He’s a bad guy.”

Before Peter could speak, you shifted in your spot to turn around and face the young girl. He watched as you studied her face in silence for a bit. Ellie wasn’t the same person she was before the fire. She was hardened. Angry. You could relate.

You reached your hand out and placed it gently over hers, “It’s not Spider-Man’s fault. There were a lot of people who needed saving that day. He came right when he needed to. I think we made a pretty good team before he got there, don’t you think? You held my hand the whole time even when you were scared. You stayed right by my side and we made it all the way across the office to find Ollie. It was you who reminded me to go get him, Ellie. You helped save yourself and your brother just as much as Spider-Man did.”

Her little face softened and she slumped back into the cousins of the couch, “It was too scary. I didn’t like it.”

“Me either,” you sighed. “I really didn’t like it. It hurt and it was scary and I wish it never happened. But it did. It happened and that’s okay. Sometimes things happen that are out of our control. We just keep pushing forward and doing our best with what we have. I think we did the best job we could have in that situation. I’m so proud of what we were able to do. Look at us. We made it. We’re alive. Everyone who was locked in that bathroom is still here in this room.”

“...Not Spider-Man,” Ollie spoke under his breath, not wanting to interrupt their conversation but still wanting to throw in his two cents.

You grinned, glancing over your shoulder at him, “You’d be surprised, kid.”

Peter laughed. He knew what you had said would go over both children’s heads. The sound of his laughter made you laugh along with him. It was the first time in half a year that he got to hear that beautiful sound. It flooded his body with a warm light and brought joyful tears to his eyes. He quickly tried to brush them away before anyone would notice but you were already staring straight at him.

“I love you,” you silently mouthed in his direction.

This was working. Seeing the twins was doing more good than it was harm. He gave a deep sigh and released months of pent up anxiety.

“What’s so funny?” Ellie asked, glancing between the two of you.

You chuckled to yourself, “Nothing. You babies are just too cute.”

“We are not babies!” Both Ellie and Ollie shouted at the same time.

The twins glanced at each other in shock and then fell into their own fit of laughter. Ollie leapt onto the couch to tackle his sister, jumping on top of her, and smothering her with rough hugs.

“Hey, cut it out!” She cried through her laughs. “That tickles!”

Peter scooted closer to you. His fingers grazed lightly down your spine until they rested on your hip. You turned your attention to him. There was something softer about your edges now. A part of who you used to be was returning back into your soul as your walls slowly came down.

“How you doing?” He spoke softly so only you could hear.

You smiled, a genuine one, and nodded, “I’m okay. Really. I’m okay.”

“I knew you would be,” he leaned over to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I never doubted you for a second.”

Ollie leaped off the couch towards the two of you without warning. Peter managed to grab him midair before he crash landed into your side. In one, singular, swoop he tucked the boy under his arm like a football and jumped to his feet, spinning them both around to the sound of over-tired giggles.

“Pretend that I’m Spidey!” He shouted. “I’m swinging through the air with my web shooters. Pew! Pew!” He mimicked the motion of Spider-Man shooting off his webs with his hands.

“Alright, Spidey, a bad guy just robbed a bank. It’s your job to stop him before he gets away!” Peter held Ollie in his arms and lifted him to the ceiling to make it look like he was crawling upside down.

Ollie squealed with joy and scurried across to the wall where Peter pretended to slowly lower him by some imaginary webs.

“There’s the robbers,” Ollie whispered to new best friend. He pointed to you and his sister. “They have the pirate jewels and we gotta get ‘em back.”

You gave Ellie a glance to see if she was willing to play along. She brushed her hair out of her eyes with a look of determination and rolled behind you.

“Hurry,” she shouted. “We have to make a run for it! Spider-Man is coming!” She leapt to her feet and held up an imaginary bag. “You’ll never catch us! We have a secret hide-a-away. Quick, let’s go.” Ellie grabbed your hand and the two of you took off out the playroom and down the hall.

What followed could be considered the cutest Spider-Man chase Peter had ever participated in. He easily held Ollie up while he jumped him from wall to wall and swung from Peter’s arms. You and Ellie threw crumpled paper balls and stuffed animals at them as they tried to approach. Peter would weave and dodge with the child in his arms, even going so far as to perfectly tuck and roll with him to avoid the attack of a flying stuffed pig. If the kids were any older than they might feel the need to question where those reflexes came from but, being so young, it only enhanced their already vivid imaginations. There was out of breath panting, delighted screams, and enough laughter to heal every damaged, broken heart under this roof.

By the time Jenny and her husband came home, the four of you were tucked under a freshly made blanket fort while Peter told stories about the adventures of Spider-Man that he “made up” as he went along. The twins were both snuggled to either side of you, Ellie’s hand clutched tightly in your scarred one, as their wide eyes took in everything Peter was saying. You rested your cheek against the top of her head. She didn’t need to talk in depth about her experience in the fire. Not now, at least. All she needed was a little reassurance that it happened and that it was terrible but that she got through it. Seeing your face was the reminder she needed to know that things would be okay in the end. If you could be okay, the person who kept her safe and stayed by her side during the events, then maybe she could be okay too. What Ellie didn’t know is that was exactly what you were searching for, as well. Seeing Ellie be able to laugh and play like a normal child put everything into perspective. Trauma can break a person but it can also build you up from the ashes. You can come out stronger than you ever thought possible. You were no longer just a normal person. You were a survivor. You survived. It took everything inside of you to get there but you did it.

A blanket fort full of people who had beaten the odds and survived tragedy, all being able to laugh together, was a perfect representation of that.

It wasn’t the first time Peter had stood between a child and death, it wouldn’t be the last, but this time was special. This time you were there beside him. He had a flash of the future, one where you were older and holding a baby of your own in your arms while you both cheered on Ellie and Ollie as they graduated from high school with their entire life ahead of them. The thought made him smile.

“Well, isn’t this a happy sight!” Jenny explained as she peeked her head in under the fort.

Ollie leapt up, “Mommy!” He threw his arms around his mother in a big hug.

“It’s too soon,” Ellie complained. “We’re not ready! I don’t want them to go yet. I want them to stay.”

“It’s already past your bedtime,” Jenny scolded her but when she reached out her hand, Ellie happily took it, and she was pulled into a hug. “I take it that means things went well?”

“They were great,” you replied. “I don’t think they could have gone better. I think this was exactly what everyone needed.”

Jenny looked visibly relieved, “And there weren’t any…problems?”

Peter helped you duck out of the fort, “Nope. There was a little talk about it but, in true Spider-Man fashion, Ollie managed to save the day and get everyone lost in a game of bank robbers.”

“I’m so glad to hear it. Thank you two so much. I’m sure we’ll be hearing all about your adventures as we try to wrestle them to sleep.” She helped walk you to the front door. “Kids! If you want to say goodbye to your guests, now is the time!”

They came barreling down the hallway. Ollie crashed into Peter’s arms and was lifted up to wrap his arms around his neck.

“I think you’re better than Spider-Man!” He gave Peter a sloppy kiss on the cheek then proceeded to be held upside down and swung back and forth to an explosion of laughter.

Ellie inched her way closer to you. She wiggled her finger to indicate that you should bend down to her level. You happily obliged. Peter carefully dropped Ollie back to his feet and let his ears pick up what Ellie was whispering softly to you.

“Thank you for coming to play with me today,” she breathed in your ear so only you…and Peter…could hear. “You’re my Spider-Man. You’re my hero.”

Tears welled up in your eyes but you held them at bay, “You’re my hero too, Ellie. I’ve never met anyone braver than you. You crawled through a room full of fire to save your brother. You’re the real Spider-Man.”

She gave a bashful giggle and sprinted away down the hall with Ollie on her heels. You stood up as Peter led you out the front door after saying goodbye to Jenny.

The night was dark and the air was crisp. The two of you walked in silence for a few blocks. Peter wanted to let you digest your night. It was a big moment for you, having to face your past head on.

You gave a loud, long sigh, tilting your head to the dark sky and closing your eyes, “I think we did good today. Don’t you?”

“Very much so. You, especially.”

“I want this night to end on a happy note. I want this night to feel normal. I miss normal,” you reached out your hand for Peter. “Hold my hand.”

He gladly accepted, locking his fingers with you, “I’ll never say no that. Let’s go be normal together.”

“Normal and boring. What could possibly be better than that?”

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker fic #tasm fic #tasm!peter parker

280 notes · View notes

soapskies · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request some general yandere hcs for capullo/zero year riddler?

Im down bad for this man

Also just found your blog, and even tho it's new, your writings amazing!

YANDERE CAPULLO RIDDLER 🧩 ?¿

MALE READER. RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS. CONTAINS YANDERE TROPES AND SUGGESTIVE CONTENT.

— Thank you, anon! :D

One of the most difficult Riddler’s to put up with, even more so as a yandere, simply because he has absolutely no qualms about getting rid of anyone who gets in his way, especially if they are of no use to him.

That woman who gives you flirty looks at your job? Gone, off the face of the Earth, she may as well have never existed. That guy who brushed against your shoulder one time? Edward will run him through a meticulous puzzle trap, enjoying the way the blood leaves his face as he nears death, the pathetic brain-dead worm. He might even make you watch just so he can force you to play nice.

When he first grapples with his feelings, he’s beyond frustrated. He tried his hardest to forget about you. You’re just another average, brainless fool in a city full of them, and he’s the Riddler, for god’s sake!

But he can’t stop his thoughts from spiraling, can’t help envisioning you at his beck and call, subservient to him, being able to do whatever he wants with you…

Sooner or later he’ll kidnap you. It’s painful not being able to control a problem like this for him, you understand.

He convinces himself that it’s completely your fault that things had gotten to this point, like your a man sent by Satan himself to ruin his plans… not that he believes in such things.

He’s one of the sleaziest Riddler’s, and that definitely plays into the way he treats you

He sees you more like an object than a person, something he’s entitled to, and he makes damn sure to remind you of who owns your body and controls your autonomy.

He can never keep his hands off you, whether they’re gripping your waist, slung around your shoulders, caressing your chest or lingering on your thighs, all while he watches you squirm with a smirk.

I’d imagine his obsession with you is a love-hate sort of relationship. He views you as inferior, yet he wants you around him at all times, practically attached to the hip.

And my god does he love controlling every little aspect of your life, and keeping you tightly under his thumb. He’ll decide what you wear, what you eat, where you are, at all times…

It’s the only way he can scratch that insufferable itch in his brain, and deal with his obsession.

The only way he’d let you be around others is if he wanted to show you off, or embarrass you enough to bring your self-worth down.

He’ll humiliate you in front of others, hold you down, make you do unsavory things for him… all while enjoying himself.

If you dare act defiant, oh boy…

He’s not above keeping you on a leash, marking your skin up, branding you if you refuse to stay in your place

He wouldn’t severely injure you in any way, you’re already pathetic enough as you are… just enough on the skin so that it’s visible and permanent

Edward’s not particularly concerned about you “loving him back”, as long as you do what he says and behave. He accuses you of lusting after him, never admitting to it himself.

He’ll make sure there’s no chance in hell you’ll escape him, even if it means inserting tracking devices under your skin. Not that there are many chances to get away, given how you’re forced to be at his side practically every hour of every day. And who would even dare mess with the Riddler?

He’ll leave dark purple welts on your skin from where he bit down too hard, especially on your neck in the most visible of places, just so he can force you to wear shirts that show everybody who you belong to.

He’ll make you sit in his lap when he’s working or out in public, taking pride in how embarrassed you get

Maybe he’ll even tease the waistband of your boxers and threaten to take things further under the table if you don’t stop acting like a brat…

“What’s wrong? Afraid someone might notice how pathetic you’re acting? Why don’t you be a good boy and stay still for me…”

#capullo riddler x reader #riddler x reader #riddler x male reader #capullo riddler #zero year riddler #x male reader #yandere #tw yandere

48 notes · View notes

wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 months ago

Text

How the plot thickens, and so the shenaniganry ensues. . .

Both Caliban and Ness have some ‘splaining to do: the former has a quick chat with a very special guest character about his new plans, and the latter reveals what it’s like to be stalked by a certain wacko in a bear-suit.

(It’s honestly kinda funny how this snippet took about the same amount of time to write as the first one. Lol, I just keep on surprising myself.)

As always, I hope you enjoy!

___

Terminal Case of the Ol’ Switcheroo [Part 2]

(Disclaimer: only two of the characters in this snippet belong to me. For more information about my EgoPat Caliban, go here. And if you’d like to learn about my StephEgo R.D., go here.)

(One more thing: I’ve actually written a full character analysis on the dynamic between Mad and Caliban. If you’re interested, please feel free to check it out here.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, knives/blades, implied kidnapping, implied violence, talk of murder/death, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of illegal business, implied stalking/threatening, mentions of snakes, mentions of spiders, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Epilogue

___

The bindings slipped away, barely making a sound as they hit the concrete floor.

Despite his newfound energy, the captive’s legs—scratch that, the captive’s everything was very shaky as he stood up from the chair.

That shakiness only worsened when Caliban stooped down and grabbed that same burlap sack he’d used hours ago. Parts of it shone in the light, courtesy of the strips of duct-tape that formed a frowny-face with Xs for eyes.

“Hey, HEY!” Mr. Waiter—uh, Ness, if memory from that one after-hit-job-rest-stop from months ago served—yelped as the bag was tugged over his head, once again shrouding his environment in darkness. “This isn’t—!”

Caliban interjected, wrapping a firm hand around the other man’s wrist.

“What the hell did I just say?!” Caliban hissed, his voice dark and searing. “If you want this to work, then you’re following. My. LEAD.”

Ness dipped his head, probably to both nod and ever-so-slightly curl in on himself. “O-okay, okay! I’m sorry, I get it!”

Caliban clicked his tongue. “I’m gonna have to pull all kinds of strings now. So yeah, you’d damn-well BETTER get it.”

“I do!” Ness insisted.

“That thing stays on until I decide we’re far enough away from here,” Caliban continued.

He kept his grip on Ness’ arm, pulling him along as he crossed his den. He couldn’t go through the abandoned tunnels.

He couldn’t use any of his peer’s subway-office-turned-underground-hidey-holes right now.

He had to get on the road, and fast. And if that was going to happen, then it meant he’d have to bring his former (technically?) captive into his house.

Caliban grit his teeth as he ascended the old concrete staircase, Snare right on his heels and Ness somehow only tripping twice.

It won’t take very long, a voice in Caliban’s head assured. You just need to get some supplies together, get in the car, and then you’re off to the next phase! Easy-peasy lemon-fucking-squeezy!

Regretting the word choice of that last thought, Caliban all but ripped open the wallpaper-camouflaged door in the corner of his closet, elbowing it shut and locking it with the special key that lived permanently rent-free in his breast pocket.

“Oh my God!” A very familiar voice suddenly gasped from the center of his bedroom, only to offer a breathless laugh a few seconds later. “Cal, you startled me!”

Caliban froze in the closet’s hollow doorframe, staring at a beautiful woman who had way, waaaaaay more than enough brains and strength to make a name for herself in the world of underground experimentation.

The same amazing genius who, by some miracle, had decided to be with him, of all people.

“R.D.!” Caliban replied, shifting in place as he pushed Ness into the corner of the closet and out of sight, keeping a hold on his wrist. “You. . .you’re home early!”

Under normal circumstances, this would’ve made Caliban very happy. (Mind you, he was still happy right now—it was just impossible for him to not be happy when R.D. was around.)

Unfortunately, the fact that he was currently trying to drag a stranger out of his den and through their home…

Damn it.

Damn the UNIVERSE and its STUPID TIMING!

She was dressed in a lovely dark green blouse adorned by flowing streaks of black that almost resembled a pour-painting canvas. Still, Caliban knew her well enough to know that she’d just barely changed out of all the protective gear she typically wore at the hidden-in-plain-sight-laboratory of a warehouse on the other side of the city.

R.D. shrugged. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to come back until much later. But it turns out some of the chemical samples we planned to use are contaminated. So, the team and I need to get a new batch, and you know how long that can take.”

“Don’t I ever,” Caliban replied with a small laugh that definitely sounded shakier than he would’ve liked.

Ness did keep relatively quiet, but he was still trying to squirm in the corner, obviously confused and scared; survival instinct was so convenient like that.

The smile faded from R.D.’s features as she tilted her head at her husband. “. . .Hey, is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine!” Caliban insisted. “Why, don’t I look fine?”

R.D. raised an eyebrow. “You look like someone just shot you with a paintball gun and forced a ghost pepper down your throat at the same time.”

Caliban pursed his lips. “Well, that seems a bit harsh.”

“What are you hiding, Cal?” R.D. asked.

“Nothing!” Caliban answered. “I’m not hiding anything!”

“Oh, really?” R.D. folded her arms across her chest and took a single step closer. “Come on out here, then.”

“Ah–no thanks,” Caliban coughed. “I’m good where I am.”

“Why?” R.D. pressed.

Caliban, for the life of him, couldn’t come up with anything for that.

And before he knew it, R.D. was walking up to him and squeezing through the gap of space between him and the closet doorway and looking at the trembling stranger in the corner and...and...and...

Yeah, he really should’ve known better.

R.D. slowly turned her head to lock eyes with him. Then she was a blur of movement, making sure the window’s blinds were all closed and the bedroom door was shut. After that, she marched right up to him again.

The words rushed out of his mouth like a river: “...OkaylookIcanexplain!”

“I sure damn hope you can!” R.D. announced in a low, hurried voice. “Caliban. What the hell are you doing?!”

Caliban’s mouth opened and closed a few times with no words coming out. His eyes darted around the room. After a few seconds, he held up a hand, turning to the shaking man beside him.

He released Ness’ wrist, then put a firm hand on his head and pushed him down. “Just—just sit, alright?”

Ness (bless his heart) moved quickly, his back sliding against the wall until he was hugging his knees on the floor. Snare took this as the green light to scamper over and flop against him.

Caliban nodded, then turned back to address his wife. “Listen—”

“You can’t just bring your targets up here!” R.D. proclaimed. “You’ve never done that before, so what made you decide to start today?!”

“He isn’t a target!” Caliban argued. “I was after someone else, but I ended up getting him by accident!”

R.D. froze for a few seconds before shaking her head. “. . .That doesn’t make things any better! If he’s not a target, then he’ll just have even more reason to report you now! He’s already seen what you have down there! What if he gets out the door and down the street before you can re-catch him?!”

“That’s not gonna happen!” Caliban insisted.

“How do you know that?!” R.D. demanded.

“We made a deal! He and I had a discussion, okay?! We have an understanding now!”

Caliban paused, then glanced at Ness, who hadn’t budged an inch from his spot on the floor.

“Don’t we?” He called, intentionally making it sound more like a statement than a question.

Ness nodded, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Y-yes! Yes, we do! I swear!”

Though she'd visibly calmed down, R.D. still only looked semi-convinced. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing right now!”

“It’s. . .it’s just a change of plans,” Caliban insisted, gesturing in Ness’ direction. “He has some kind of connection to the idiot I mistook him for! So now he’s gonna lead me to him before things go even more downhill than they already have!”

R.D. blinked at this, her eyes slowly but surely transitioning from stressed to contemplative.

She pursed her lips and began pacing in a small circle. To and fro, to and fro, either massaging her temples or fidgeting with the dutch side-braid she often tied her long, silky brown hair into. After a moment, she halted in place and looked at Caliban again.

“. . .Where exactly are you going?” She asked.

“At least a few towns over,” Caliban responded after a few seconds of hesitation.

A voice in his head reminded him that she knew what his work was like. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d had to leave home to get a job done, whether heading to a different state or even a different country. Hell, she had to travel just as often as he did—if not more so—whether to snatch a test subject or gather supplies for her experiments.

R.D. nodded. “And how long do you think this’ll take?”

“I’m. . .not sure,” Caliban admitted. Most jobs could just be handled in a day or two, tops. But some could end up taking weeks, or even months, depending on how the cards were dealt. “But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

R.D. shifted were she stood, glancing back and forth between her husband and the closet, where she knew some stranger was probably questioning his life choices right about now.

“Rhea. . .” Caliban walked closer to her. He chewed his lip for a long few seconds.

His voice tapered down to a whisper as he continued, “. . .there’s a kid involved with this.”

A tidal wave of emotion rippled across R.D.’s features. Much like him, her career involved plenty of things that wouldn’t guarantee anyone a spot in heaven.

And yet, she could still be compassionate when she needed to. It was one of many things that he loved her for.

Horror crept into her warm chestnut eyes as she echoed, “A kid. . ?”

Caliban felt his heart drop as he nodded. “I’m sorry I had to just spring all this on you; that wasn’t fair.”

He then gently took one of her hands in his. “I’ll try to explain it more thoroughly later, but I need to get moving right now.”

R.D. stared at him for another long, tense second before sighing leaning against him, wrapping an arm around his torso. He did the same. The two of them stayed like that for a bit; just in case it was the last hug they’d have for the next few days.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” R.D. said as she pulled away, nodding first to the closet, and then to the bedroom door. “You go get your stuff together.”

Caliban’s eyes brightened in time with the smile that spread over his face. “I don’t deserve you.”

R.D. huffed a laugh. “No, you don’t.”

And with that, the cannibal raced through the door, heading down the hall to gather up whatever he might need for an impromptu roadtrip. Food, water, a first aid kit, a few spare body bags, way more knives than strictly necessary. . .

The next few minutes were extremely awkward; even with the explanation she’d been given, R.D. still didn’t know who the masked stranger huddled in the corner of her and Caliban’s closet was.

Even so, it didn’t take long for her to see that he wouldn’t cause too much trouble.

Snare seemed to like him, which was a good sign. . .usually.

“Thank you.” Ness broke the silence in a small, wavering voice. “For understanding.”

R.D. shrugged (though she wasn't really sure why, since it wasn’t like he could see her through the burlap-sack-mask). “It’s nothing.”

“N-no, it’s really not,” Ness argued. “If I wasn’t on the verge of an anxiety-attack right now, I’d probably try to hug you.”

A small smile graced R.D.’s lips. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Caliban’s voice echoed from elsewhere in the house. “Hey, R.D.?”

“What?” R.D. called back, stepping closer to the bedroom door.

“Where’s my electric bone-saw?”

R.D. blinked, pursing her lips. “. . .What?”

“Where. Is my. ELECTRIC BONE-SAW?” Caliban repeated, raising his voice a bit.

“I, uh. . .put it away.”

“Where?!”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I need it!”

“No, you don’t!” R.D. insisted, rolling her eyes. “You already have more than enough weapons; I know how many you have in that duffel bag!”

“I need to be as prepared as possible!” Caliban protested.

“You’re always prepared! Your favorite cleaver is always in your pocket—you take it everywhere you go!”

“You tell me where my electric bone-saw is! We’re talking about a SPECIAL job!”

“‘SPECIAL?’” R.D. echoed, unable to help but put her hands on her hips. “I am your WIFE! I am the most special thing you’re EVER gonna get!”

There was no response to that last comment. R.D. smirked at the thought of Caliban’s expression. Shuffling from the closet caught her attention once again. She chewed her lip, then quietly walked over, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s not a stretch for me to guess that he already scared the hell out of you,” she said.

Ness nodded, shuddering.

“Yeah. Well, I can tell what you’re thinking,” R.D. hummed. “It might be hard to believe, especially right now, but if he’s really serious about this. . .then you can trust him. His work can get chaotic depending on whatever happens in the moment, but he’s still professional.”

Ness shifted in place, subconsciously petting Snare. “A-alright, then. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” R.D. replied. She turned away, only to glance at him over her shoulder. “I just hope you can think on your feet.”

Ness flinched at that. “I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Footsteps rumbled through the walls, and Caliban burst into the room yet again. “Alright! The car’s packed—let’s get going!”

He raced over to the closet, causing Ness to yelp as he was yanked from the floor and onto his feet. Snare hopped away at just the right second, scurrying out of the room to excitedly wait by the garage door.

Caliban, ever the dutiful partner, made sure to give R.D. a kiss on the cheek before tugging Ness out of the room. “Love you!”

“Love you too,” R.D. called after him. “Be careful!”

A dark laugh resounded on Caliban’s part. “Let him be careful.”

R.D. grinned to herself, knowing that Ness wasn’t who Caliban meant by that.

___

Ness wasn’t sure how long Mr. Sharp Te—er, Caliban, according to the woman he’d talked to a while ago—had been driving.

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he’d heard the unmistakable sound of a key being turned in the ignition, of an engine roaring to life. It wasn’t like he could look outside the windows, after all; not until Caliban decided to let him.

No, he’d just had to listen to the rumbling of tires for what felt like hours now.

A chill seeped around his neck when the car eventually came to a halt.

The burlap sack was, once again, pulled off of his head.

He blinked—mostly out of instinct, since the world outside was still just as dark as when he’d been on that walk with Mike.

The stars were still glinting like diamonds painstakingly sewn onto a black velvet tapestry. By that same logic, the moon would’ve been a pearl, casting long, winding shadows with its cold, pale glow.

Snare was in his lap again, titling his head, nose twitching with an eerie thoughtfulness.

“. . .Where are we?” Ness asked, voice dripping with hesitation.

“Nowhere important,” Caliban answered with a shrug. And it seemed he was right: there was nothing but distant trees and vacant fields for miles upon miles.

“Let’s make something clear,” Caliban started, tossing the burlap-sack-mask into the back while he shifted in his seat.

“Most of the people who end up in my den and see my face? Yeah, they don’t get to leave. There’s only so many exceptions to that, and I guess you’re one of them now. I’ve already cut things close by letting you see me. So, when we get to wherever we need to be, I can’t be seen by anyone you know. Not your boytoy, not his sister, no-one else. Get it?”

Ness nodded quickly. “Got it.”

Caliban squinted at him, then heaved a sigh. “Okay. Here’s the first part of this: I can remember the route I drove to get to the place where I took you. I won’t have any problem finding my way there again, but once we do get there, I’ll need you to navigate.”

“Oh,” Ness blurted. It was a pretty solid plan. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting, but high-adrenaline scenarios like this didn’t tend to lead to smart choices. (Then again, this was all happening in the first place because he’d agreed to a late-night stroll in the woods. . .) “Um, yes, sure! I can do that when the time comes. That sounds perfect, actually.”

“I know it does,” Caliban grinned, rolling his shoulders.

With that, he restarted the engine and they were off. The headlights didn’t come on (that was probably intentional), but it didn’t really matter. Right now, the moon was bright enough to let both driver and passenger see in the darkness.

Caliban suddenly reached over to Ness’ side. Ness flinched back, expecting a knife in his grasp. But just before he could start pleading again, something light and dull dropped beside him. He palmed it, realizing by touch alone that it was his cellphone.

“Text him,” Caliban instructed. “If this is gonna work, then it’ll be best if the kid is as far away as possible. So, tell him that the two of you need some alone time to figure things out. Convince him to drop his sister off to stay with someone else for a little while.”

Ness blinked. “Wait–shouldn’t I just tell him to go with her? That both of them need to get away?”

“No,” Caliban replied tersely. “If you do that, then the bear-onesie-idiot will get suspicious. We have no idea what he’ll do, so the longer we keep him in the dark, the better.”

“But Mike will still be near him!” Ness protested. “He’ll still be in danger!”

“Mike is about the same age as us, right?”

“. . .Yeah. Yeah, he is—”

“Then Mike can probably defend himself just fine,” Caliban concluded. In a low, heavy voice, he added, “If anyone’s at risk here, it’s his sister. Don’t you think?”

Ness shut his mouth with a little porcelain snap, nodding frantically.

“Alright. Now, send him that message and then pass the phone back to me.”

Ness did as he was told, thanking God for the fact that a Creative Writing course had been on the side of his Drama class in high school. It might've been a while since he wrote anything, but he still remembered how to make things sound nice and realistic and convincing.

Still, it felt so horrible to lie to Mike. Especially at times like this.

After a few moments, once he was satisfied, he sent the text and carefully pushed the phone back over the center console. Caliban’s hand was a blur as he snatched it up and stuffed it into one of the interior pockets of his jacket.

It was, for the most part, pretty damn quiet. Ness usually didn’t like heavy silences—the jukebox back at Sparky’s had always been a decent source of comfort when he was working—but right now he was just fine.

After all, it wasn’t every day you got kidnapped by a cannibalistic hitman only to wind up riding shotgun with him so he could track down a person who was equally horrifying in different ways.

One did not simply come up with casual conversation in this scenario.

“Don’t call Mike a boytoy,” Ness murmured, the words leaving his mouth before his brain could register them.

“. . .What?” Caliban asked, not looking at his passenger.

Though part of his mind screamed at him not to, Ness still reiterated: “Don’t call Mike that. He’s not a perfect angel–he might not know what he’s doing sometimes, but he’s not just a boytoy.”

Caliban stayed quiet for a few long seconds, then let out a sarcastic chuckle. “He sure texts like one.”

Ness sputtered. “Yeah, well, it’s really difficult to translate some things without body language, but—” He cut himself off, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. “. . .Wait, you read my text messages with him?!”

“Yeah,” Caliban said, rather nonchalantly. “I had your phone, didn’t I?”

“You—you—!” Ness’ vocal cords seemed to be malfunctioning yet again. . .only, for the first time all night, it wasn’t out of fear. “It doesn’t matter if you had my phone! You can’t just do that!”

Caliban snickered. “Sure I can. If you’d been in a position to keep it from me, then you might have an argument there. But you weren’t, so...”

Ness spread his hands in a highly-aggravated lame gesture. He made to keep on ranting, but Caliban interjected.

“Y’know, I guess I could’ve focused on something other than that phone. Like, oh, I don’t know…taking a few bites out of you, maybe?”

He only glanced away from the windshield for a millisecond, but that was still enough time for his eyes to drill into the waiter seated beside him. “But I chose not to. So just think about that, huh?”

Ness’ face went pale again; fear swiftly handed frustration’s ass to it. He merely nodded again, edging against the passenger-window.

“F-fair enough.”

Caliban hummed in agreement.

More silence.

The minutes seemed to go by at a speed similar to a tortoise getting drunk off molasses.

Snare, for all the energy he’d shown earlier, suddenly seemed tired. He let out a silent little yawn, his buck-teeth making the gesture way funnier than it probably should’ve been. After that, he curled up, resting his head against Ness’ stomach.

Caliban piped up again: “How did it happen?”

Ness glanced at him, unable to avoid raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t start forgetting things now,” Caliban chided. “By the grace of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, the guy I mixed you up with is apparently the same guy who’s been stalking you.”

He paused, then shot another glance at Ness, this one much more curious than sinister. “So, how did it happen? When did it start?”

“Um. . .” Ness didn’t particularly want to talk about this specific part of his recent life—hell, he’d never even talked to Mike about it.

Lot of good that did you, a voice in his head nagged.

Then again, he knew he had to if he wanted things to run at least somewhat smoothly.

Ness sighed. “I can’t remember the exact date, but it’s been going on for. . .I think about three months. Up until you took me, at least.”

“Do you know him at all?” Caliban asked. “Like, did you ever meet him before he decided to watch you from the bushes with a pair of binoculars?”

“No,” Ness shook his head forcefully. “I’ve never really even talked to him. The closest we ever got was late one night when he came into the diner for some coffee.” He paused, memories rushing back. “Way, way too much coffee, really. Enough to give someone legit heart palpitations.”

Caliban snorted. “Did he wear his bear costume that night?”

Ness thought back. “. . .No, actually. But think I did see part of it sticking out of a backpack he’d brought along.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t have expected that much tact from him.” Caliban shrugged, then waved a hand at his passenger to continue.

“I. . .I don’t really know what I did to trigger him,” Ness explained. “I could tell something was off the first time I saw him, but even then, I still just tried to be polite, and he’d hardly said a word to me.”

He took a deep breath. “About a week after that first night, he came back. . .but he never actually came into the diner. He just stood at the edge of the parking lot, staring in through the windows.”

Ness paused, glancing out at the fields they were passing. He could’ve sworn he’d caught the silhouette of a deer just out of the corner or his eye.

“And after that. . ?” Caliban prompted.

“After that. . .” Ness echoed, thinking. “After that, he started leaving things at the diner. Boxes that came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, all marked with my name. They all smelled like smoke; sometimes the edges seemed burned. None of my coworkers or I ever really saw him drop the packages off, but I still knew it had to be him.”

Caliban hummed again, nodding. “What was in those packages?”

Ness threw a hand up in empty air. “That’s the thing: the packages never even made sense. One of them was full of broken glass shards, another had what looked like a ripped-up rubber mask. . .But sooner or later, they got worse. So, so much worse.”

He shuddered, heartbeat suddenly pounding in his ears. “One had a live rattlesnake in it!”

“Wait, really?” Caliban wondered aloud. “What a coincidence; a friend of mine did that exact thing to scare a sleazy prick out of our territory.”

Ness gawked at this.

“Hey, don’t give me that look.” Caliban rolled his eyes. “The guy was a loan-shark. Have you ever met a loan-shark? They’re like landlords, but a thousand times worse.”

. . .Okay, that actually did calm Ness’ nerves just a teensy bit. The average landlord was typically just a few million leeches in a trench coat, so if loan-sharks were even more unbearable than that…

Ness awkwardly coughed. “Another box had tarantulas in it! A couple real damn tarantulas! I’m pretty sure he got them from the pet store or something!”

Caliban’s face contorted at the statement, a visible shudder running through his arms.

“I was so afraid he’d start sending me dead things,” Ness went on. “I really thought it’d get to the point where he’d just scrape up roadkill and put it in a box, or. . .” He trailed off, thinking about the squirrels or rabbits or birds he’d see around the parking lot.

He thought about a duo of raccoons that frequented the dumpster out back; the ones he’d affectionately named Dine and Dash. Sometimes he’d try to leave out fresher scraps for them. Since his and Jack’s apartment didn’t allow pets just yet, he almost saw them as makeshift ones.

He wasn’t sure what would’ve happened if one of them had been left for him to find…

“Thankfully, he never did. But what he did do was just as bad,” Ness sighed. “Eventually, he started leaving letters. Sometimes they’d be full of vague threats, sometimes they’d just be rambling nonsense. No two were the same; it got so hard to keep track, to figure out what exactly I had to look out for. And. . .and the last letter he left for me, before all this happened—”

Ness’ voice started to quaver. Something cold, clammy, and awful began to fester in the pit of his stomach.

He coughed. “It mentioned Mike. I don’t know how he ever found out I was connected to him, but…but…”

Caliban’s features became unreadable.

That was it.

Ness just couldn’t get any more words out.

Instead, he choked. Fat, hot tears streamed down his face as the horrible memory played over and over and over again in his mind.

Snare stirred on his lap, lifting his head and blinking groggily. At first, he seemed quite annoyed at his nap being interrupted. But then, he did something Ness would’ve never expected: he sat up, bracing his paws against the waiter’s chest, pushed his fuzzy little face right up to his…and started licking the tears away.

Ness froze in place. It didn’t feel bad—if anything, it felt like eskimo kisses.

It just seemed so. . .wholesome. Especially for the same creature he’d witnessed chow down on a severed human finger not too long ago.

After a moment’s contemplation, Ness decided to just give in and hugged the pale hare.

Sometimes you just needed to take whatever emotional support you could get.

No matter how strange and slightly terrifying it was.

___

@sammys-magical-au @insane4fandoms @im-a-weird0 @lexusinsannus @b-is-in-the-closet @forestcouncil @yourlocalsonia2 @sunny011387 @lampsforsocks

I decided to add in a little extra comic based of the after events of my friendo @wouldntyou-liketoknow’s snippet of my previous post. @iswmperson @crazy-obsessed-enby @lexusinsannus

Abby is concern that “Ness” is not doing so well after he and Mike got lost in the woods, but Mike being the sleepy man he is, reassures that he and “Ness” will work things out.

All the while his kinda-boyfriend is trying to plead for his life to save Mike’s.

33 notes · View notes

carpexiem · 3 years ago

Text

my love

PAIRING! sunghoon x reader/oc (tbh, it's open for interpretation)

GENRE! some romantic angst

A/N! just a small poetic brain dump, formatted in diary entries,,, which ended up in me thinking that sunghoon would probably write this.

enjoy <3

WARNINGS! none

PERMANENT TAGLIST! @soobin-chois

22 . O3

her eyes that hold the stars from the night's hold, that plunge the moon into a waters of jealousy and vengeance

she takes place of the sun, the sun, once forgotten, twice forgotten, for they she lay, glowing, exuberance laced in her blood,

of her, nature wants to be

with her, i want to be

23 . O3

an angel's melody, her voice was rich, arabian soul and flesh, honey dripped from her lips, staining the colourless

a swirl of vibrance, of life in which a mortal could not claim in its first breath

for she gave me life, one unfathomable

24 . O3

our toes skim aphrodite's pool, our touch ripples through the waters, a twinkle in the night sky like a falling diamond

slipping through the grip of zeus, into the mouth of hades

a silence that strangles, a bruise painting that skin

that skin that tangled with thorns of roses

please talk to me, my love

13 . O4

a reverie, foolish state, that drowns the mind, with falsehood and pity

crashing down into truth's arms, that stab you with the sword

that guarded the garden of eden

temptation crawling the skin of lucifer, poison the seed of the fruit

snow white, a deep slumber

of greed and guilt

a prince that does not deserveth to be

18 . O4

a woven silk, threads softly through your fingers, attenuated, adorned with the ethiopian riches

a subtle gesture, which lures me closer to my end, the biting bath penetrates, my heart belong no more, an abyss retains the outburst that riddles my body numb

29 . O4

like a starved man, i crave your indulgence of love, that struck me dumb, gaping at your wisdom

allow my fingertips to trace the contortions of your reddened cheek, the infidelity; a pungence that tugs tears from my eyes

the ugly side to you, the beautiful side of you, co-exist in harmony that trickles content through your arteries

your crying gaze meets mine, i hear the screams that deafen the deafened

allow my lips to sing a knight's hymn upon yours, glee dancing on the waves of your touch, burning my skin into a paralysis of serenity's oasis

allow my love to lock with yours,

my love

O5 . O5

you collect neptune's tears in a jar, the colours of ache, an artifact worth a museum's show

i watch from the other side of the glass, palpitations striking the chest, which it had been confined in

your smile that cured my heart's deplete, rooting from the whispers of another's, curling, mimicking the joker's snarl, sin scratched his lips black

14 . O5

a season's death, a summer's birth

the snores of my sleepless nights, resonating in my head

yeah, my head that thinks about you til the night runs nigh, soaking my skin in the pity glow of the stone

that mockingly marches through the sky

cackles echoes like a whale's call, dissipating into the dust of the dead

the cake, bitter

not enough sugar, recoils in disgust, the hatred undertone peeking through the blinds that reflect the happiness, snaking slyly through the oriphaces

happiness

to hell with that bullshit.

54 notes · View notes

lady-ragnvindr · 4 years ago

Note

I’m back! My final of the day was horrible but at least the horny juice is pumping! (also I may or may not have become too excited about this particular scenario so now it’s also becoming its own X reader for AO3 when I finish it oops)

*cough* just clearing some warnings first... 👀

Omegaverse (obviously), size difference, reader has two cocks and a 2ft tongue, scent kink, sex pollen but it’s actually reader’s scent cause they triggered a rut, tongue fucking, mouth knotting, animalistic/primal sex, overstimulation, cum inflation, breeding kink, spitroasting (male receiving), marking/claiming bites, double penetration (male receiving), breeding kink, dragon cum confers semi-permanent immortality, slightly yandere characters

———

Okay, so in this setup, Teyvat’s dragons are these secluded and solitary creatures, that are only seen very rarely and decades apart. One is lucky to see a dragon come out of their secret lairs in their lifetime, but they don’t consider it as such, because dragons only ever come out for three things: treasure, war, or... mates.

The thing is, no one knows what happens to these ‘mates’. The dragons just come, towering over the tallest of alphas, roam around the land with their horns and fangs and claws, and then leave with their ‘mates’ on their arms...only for them to never be seen again. So, in the mouth of the people, ‘mates’ are just another word for ‘food’... only with a worse fate. Not that anybody dares to say it to an actual dragon.

In the middle of this, you’re a dragon just over a hundred years old, and you’re just out of your parents’ nest, roaming the land in search of treasure and possibly one (or a few) mate(s) before finally setting yourself with an adult lair.

The humans, however, are nowhere to be seen from where you stand, closing the doors when you pass and hiding their children, and you’re mildly confused, but chalk it off to them having never seen a dragon in their lives. Well, you’re truly majestic, even among other alpha dragons, with your two sets of curled horns and beautifully long tail, but it still hurts a bit seeing the mortals avoid you when you had been so eager to meet them, ever since your infancy’s tales.

And then, a presence makes itself known- or three, to be more precise. Two omegas and a beta, you can tell, and you wonder why they’re approaching you so cautiously, but you’re excited nonetheless. From their smell, you can tell they’re unmated, and you hope that if they’re not here to be your friends, they’re here to be your mates.

The first to approach is Scaramouche, in service of the Tsaritsa to investigate he rumors of a dragon descending (form where, he doesn’t know). He smiles and talks with glee in his eyes at the smile filled with pointed teeth that greets him, and you can feel your chest swell with pride. It’s all going well (all too well even, the unmistakable scent of pleased alpha making his omega reel in want), until the traveler comes too, scowling at him and loudly warning you about Scaramouche’s hidden nature and his probable ill intentions (nothing you hadn’t already noticed, of course).

Aether goes on, introducing himself and offering to help you for a while if you don’t know where you’re going, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that tells him he also wants to use you for his own benefit, finding his sister, but also the much louder one that screams ‘alpha! mine!’ in the back of his mind. Well, if he gets what he’s here for, he might as well be lucky enough to-

And then the third man comes forth, a refreshing smell of qingxin coiling around him just like the white snake on his shoulder, and Baizhu ropes you in his talk, friendly and surreptitious and he sounds out information about you you’d gladly give him in an instant had the ruse not been up. He asks about how life is like for a dragon and curious questions about your tail, and hides his need for knowledge just as much as the saliva already pooling on his tongue at the sight of you, your built form more than a head taller than he is, and the sheer strength you carry in yourself (And the other dragons said you were small for an alpha...)

The curious behavior of them is enough to rope you into their banter, a purr almost forming in the back of your throat at their sight and their scent, mixing so well with your own, but you hold it back for a while, knowing neither of them has tried anything with you. But they will, you’re sure, and you can wait for it for as long as they want.

It’s a few weeks later until your prediction comes true, a week full with lingering tension and careful touches that last just a bit too long and just a bit too little to be not nearly enough at every turn. You’re in the cave you’ve claimed as yours for your stay in the mortal world (only waiting for your little mates to come around), tail loosely curled around the three of them just enough you can chalk it off to a mindless behavior. You chuckle at yet another bickering between Scaramouche and Aether, the sore jabs and quick nips exhilarating to watch, as you prop yourself against the stone wall and play with Baizhu’s hair, his head resting on your lap.

And then, a hand is grabbing at your wrist, propping it against Baizhu’s cheek and him nuzzling against it, vibrant amber eyes staring straight at yours. “So, how do dragon mates work, even?” he says in that silky, languid voice of his, and you feel yourself twitch in interest.

The sounds of the conversation around pause all of a sudden, and now all three of them are looking directly at you, breaths hitched and scents sweetening just a tad, making your mouth water. Slightly nipping at your lip, your gaze wonders through each of them, finally setting down on Baizhu again only to ask, tone a bit more low now, “What do you want to know?”

The curious eyes shift lower on your form, and you feel, just for a moment, that the glint in their eyes could be more menacing that what you see. And then, Aether is shifting closer, now right in front of you sitting back on his knees, and Scaramouche has moved to your side only to stare closely into your face with a devious smirk.

Baizhu turns, and your attention is back at him now. “Perhaps... you’d like to demonstrate?” he says, already trailing a hand through your waistband and you can’t contain yourself anymore.

You snap, feeling the fire burning through your veins, liquid lust escaping through your scent and into the air. You grip at Baizhu’s neck only to pull him up for a fierce kiss, your tongue unraveling from within to shove down his throat, and he whines. Your tail is curling around the other two, death grip as it pulls them by the waist to pile against your heating body, and Aether whimpers, the steady filling of your cocks rubbing on him now that he’s climbed up your lap.

Scaramouche grips at your bulge then, still covered by your clothes, and you groan, leaving Baizhu to grasp for air as he holds right to your frame as you bite into the harbinger’s neck, fangs already extended and ready for marking. The surprised moan that escapes his mouth is almost as nice as the way he turns limp into your arms from shock, only to grab your hair and hold you against his neck, you biting and licking all too eagerly before you feel cold air and deft fingers hit your skin.

A sigh leaves the blond’s pretty lips, and you look down just in time to see him start nuzzling into your cocks, inhaling your scent and looking hazily up to you. He moans as he takes one of your cocks into your mouth, Baizhu’s trembling hand reaching to caress his cheek and tug at your other cock, and you groan as you pump out more of your scent, wrapping your tail tighter against Aether’s waist and moving to rip your mates’ clothing off.

You don’t waste time to maneuver Scaramouche’s hips into your face, his always smug face contorted in pleasure as your tongue breaches his hole, a frenzied rhythm inspired only by your growing need to mate, and breed and to claim. You grip into Baizhu’s head to guide him to your other leaking, dripping cock, and he moans as he laves his tongue on it, intent on pleasuring you the best he can as you hold right to his hair with pricking pain that goes form his scalp right to his cock.

The messy sounds in the cave get drowned by the rain outside and you feel yourself on the brink at all the sensations, thrusting up into the receiving mouths working desperately at you and making Aether gag, taken aback, and Baizhu thank his lack of a gag reflex. Scaramouche, you know, is also more than desperate to get off, shaking his hips and trying to send himself further down your tongue, crying already with a fucked out face and you wonder just how sensitive he is as you lick more intently, feeling your thighs flex and high peak as you slam both Aether’s and Baizhu’s heads into your new protruding knots.

You feel Scaramouche come on your tongue then, triggered by the smell of pleased alpha inundating the cave, and your tongue works faster as the slick drops down his thighs, cum spurting from him only to fall into his stomach and the wall on the back. You don’t stop your licking though, working him up again to a strangled cry as he’s forced to quickly wind up again on it and cum until your knots come down enough to get to actually fucking your mates dry.

The growls you make reverberate against the walls of both the cave and Scaramouche’s hole, and the minor twitches on your cocks has Aether’s eyes suspiciously water, his tongue doing its best to lap at you and keep you satisfied.

Baizhu leaks his scent then, the calming scent just enough to get you to let Scaramouche up, shaking legs struggling to hold him as he drops on your side and drapes his head on your shoulder, and you ride the rest of your high out to his satisfied purrs.

—

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you wake it’s to your little mates draped all over you and the burning need to breed. With much less grace that you’ll want to acknowledge later, you groan at the feeling of your rock hard cocks dripping on your chest, and makes quick work of lifting Aether up and unceremoniously dropping him into your cock, and he screams as he wakes up, feeling a size much too large for himself breaching into him all at once. He pants, feeling your soothing hands on his hips as you nip his neck in apology, but you don’t stop until he’s flush against your hips and barely a second to adjust before you’re hammering up into him, grunting at the feeling of your other cock rub against his cleft.

It’s not nearly enough to get you off and you’re about to try and jam everything inside Aether all at once when Scaramouche wakes, scowling at the noise, before stopping himself to the sight. You growl at him, and he looks at you with sheer want on his eyes, and it’s in more of a roar than an ask that you tell him to ride your cock, and he whines, yet makes no move. You sneer, reaching for his hair as you mercilessly yank him into your cock and stuff his hole full all at once, copious slick aiding your work and you can feel him clench at you as he chokes on his words. He whimpers and cries as you thrust up, roughly, barely hitting his prostate in a way that has him screaming for more and arching his back, and you stuff your tail up in his mouth to stop his whining, leaving only muffled whimpers to fill your ears.

Baizhu stirs awake to this vision, the pretty blond clutching at your back and arching to rub against your belly as you fill him up and fuck the pretty, loud sounds out of his lips, and the other artificially arched in a bow as he’s fucked on both ends, and he can’t believe how hard he’s gotten and how grateful he is he left Changsheng and Qiqi to go over on a mission for the week. He wastes no time in nuzzling to your neck and hump into your side as he bares his glands to you, and you waste no time to accept it before diving down and biting hard enough to draw blood. He’s moaning, then, trailing wet kisses over your skin as he speeds up his humping, panting and moaning as if he was a bitch in heat, which he might as well be at this moment.

You dive down as you feel yourself reach completion again, speeding your thrusts and slamming Aether’s hips back on yours as Scaramouche is sluttily rocking back and forth on your other cock, and claims the blond’s bare neck in a single, twisted bite, your teeth so large against his slim neck you grunt and cum right on the waiting bodies above you, knots firmly against the omegas’ stretched entrances, and Baizhu is panting loudly and cussing as you lick the blood away from Aether’s neck only to open again the matching wound on Scaramouche’s.

They come, untouched, still riding on your hips from oversensitivity and Scaramouche is tamer than you’ve ever seen him before, and Baizhu is trailing up again to catch your lips as he grunts and comes on your side, and Aether’s looking so pretty you might as well just keep on fucking him until he can’t take it anymore (and then do it again).

Your omegas look so beautiful like this, fucked out on top of you and even falling over each other, too tired to even process it, and their cum stuffed bellies bulge and satisfy a primal urge in your alpha to keep them well-bred, full of pups and begging for more.

You wrap your tail around them, and decide to wait again for the next wave of your rut, only for Baizhu to tell you to ‘wait for him for a bit’, with the calm playfulness only he can achieve and you thump your tail lightly on the ground in acknowledgement.

It takes not long before he notices when your cum starts to leak from where your knot subsided, and it’s at this moment that he gently pulls the two omegas (or tries to, before you move them yourself) to both your sides and out of your cocks. You whimper at the loss, cold air of the cave and the rainstorm outside replacing wet, tight heat and is about to protest before he groups both of your cocks together and aligns to his hole, sinking down with a hitched breath.

He sighs, adjusting slowly to the intrusion, before he pouts, “I didn’t get to have my fun yet”, and moans when he’s finally meeting your still barely deflated knots with his shaking hips. As you move your hands to his waist and grips, hard enough to leave marks for days, he smiles languidly and laughs, saying there’s something he noticed on your cum. “It heals people, doesn’t it?”

You grunt, thrusting into him the softest you can so as not to wake the tired out omegas on your chest, and nods, saying it’s what helps dragons keep their mates for their whole lives. His eyes sparkle and he gasps, sinking down harder and you can barely contain yourself as to not flip you both out and fuck into him like there’s no tomorrow (someday, you think distantly through you lust-dazed mind).

“Yes, I noticed,” he gasps, and it seems he’s hit an extra good spot, so you shift your hips until you’re aiming right at the spot, the double girth brushing at all his right places at once and he has to hold himself back as to not be too loud. “I wouldn’t be able to take both these monsters at once if not,” he gasps, finishing his thought as you chuckle. It’s not long before he’s coming, clenching down on your cocks as he shivers, and you moan at the welcoming heat, spurts of slick still so little compared to your omegas but delightful nonetheless. He crumbles onto your chest, grumbling something, and nods when you grip harsher at his hips, and you waste no time in wrapping two rings of your tail around his waist, propping his head up with the tip and setting up a much harsher, much faster pace, seeking to destroy the beautiful man you’ve been gifted with. And his self-control is gone at his time, muffling his whines and pleads only by biting into his own hand as harsh as he can, the other twisted into your hair in a tug that makes you want to ruin him. And you do, diving down for the final mark on your beautiful strike today, right over his gland, and he’s spurting again with a hitched breath, making him clench and trigger your orgasm as both of your knots are shoved in his right hole, and he swears he’s gonna cry himself dry at this point.

As you leave his neck and licks soothingly at the wounds, you can’t help but rumble again at the beautiful sight of all your three mates, stuffed full and fucked out for the day.

—

It’s not for a week later that the four of you leave the cave, your rut finally done with and thankfully not triggering any of the omegas’ heats, thanks to their steady use of suppressants. You smile as you walk towards the nearby town, preparing to finally decide where your adult lair is gonna be, and you couldn’t be happier as Aether pulls your hand, leading the group as Baizhu saunters behind and Scaramouche is snarling and snipping sarcasm at the blond’s behavior, and discreetly snarling at everyone who looks at you slightly too long. Your smile grows larger, appreciating how cute they are, clinging to you and scaring off the few people that seemed a bit too interested as well.

So cute, just for you.

Even if you know they would try to kill anyone who ever upset you or tried to talk to you again, but that’s okay. With three beautiful mates like these, who would need any more?

———

This has gotten much longer than I wanted even with all the cuts and edits I made, so I hope you like it bestie 👊🏻😭

~🐃

Babe this is some good shit, each time I kept scrolling I didn't wanted to end 😫

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #dom!reader #scaramouche #aether #baizhu #🐃-anon

509 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Brown Eyes [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15, SEASON 2. !!

*Hi. The episode has been out for three hours. The devil works hard but I work harder. I hope you enjoy! xx*

Summary: Din has always wanted to confess his love to you— but with his devotion to the Creed and with the risk of losing you, he wonders if the revelation would really be worth it. Would you even consider being with him if he refused to remove his helmet? When Grogu is taken away from Din and in the fiendish hands of Moff Gideon, Din realises there isn't anything he won't do to get his son back.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: descriptions of anxiety, *SPOILERS FOR Season 2 Episode 15: The Believer of The Mandalorian*

Word count: 2.6k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

Masterlist

gif credit: @siennablake

"Din," you froze up, backing away from the Imperial who was sitting at a table drinking caf. "I- I can't do it."

Din's head snapped to face you, masked by the Imperial Shocktrooper helmet he was doting. "Why not?" His voice was firm, but the tone of his question dripped with concern. You bawled your fingers into a fist as you squeezed your eyes tight shut, beginning to anxiously pace around in circles.

"That's Valen Hess," you muttered, trying your hardest to regulate your nervous breathing. "He- I used to serve under him. I- can't… go in there. Din, he'll recognise me." the thoughts in your head were jumbled. Din placed two hands steady on your shoulders.

"I'll go, hand me the dataspike." Din told you calmly. You felt like putty under his touch. Usually, his firm grip would calm you down and ease any of your troubles away— but not this time. You felt completely nauseated.

Grogu was at stake. When you met the Mandalorian, it took him some time to find the confidence in introducing you to the child. You were Ex-Imperial after all. But he warmed up to you, seeing the way you cared so deeply for the children on Sorgan. When he introduced you to the little green bean, who did not yet have a name, you were enamoured. That's when Din knew he was in love with you. Ever since that day, he'd only fallen in love with you more and more. His feelings became stronger with every waking second he spent with you.

Of course, he never acted on his feelings. He wished he had, he wished he could say something. He knew that if something happened to you and you didn't know how he truly felt, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. There had been countless times where you and him brushed paths on the Razor Crest. Plenty of times to say something, plenty of times to mutter the three words that had consumed his mind, body and soul. ‘I love you’. The words were like a broken record in the back of his mind. He looked at you through his visor, seeing your distress and his heart aching and he wanted— no, he had to do something.

His son had been kidnapped and suddenly, Din was an unstoppable force. Nothing could hold him back— not his friends, not the Creed, nothing. The regret ate him up like flies on a corpse. If there was one thing he learned from Grogu's disappearance, is that you never know what is coming around the corner. Din began to treat everyday with you like it was your last because there was no way of telling what the future was holding. And that only stirred him on, the desire of telling you how much you meant to him.

"You can't go," you removed your finger from your lips where you had been anxiously biting your nails. "The security system is biometric facial recognition. There must be another way." you tried to rack your brain for a solution, but Din's mind was already made up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in search for an answer. You steadied your breathing. "Din," you whispered. "What if we distract them? You go in there and speak to him so he's looking the other way and I'll use that moment to sneak past and access the terminal."

No answer. "Din?" you asked, cautiously opening your eyes. He was already gone. Your mouth began to open and close like a goldfish as you watched his approach the terminal. He paused, midway between two tables, shakily saluting Valen Hess. Din turned back to the terminal, held his head up high and carried on over to it.

Upon examining it, Din found it was no different to any other information point— whether it had been New Republic or Independent, Din was lucky enough to already know how to navigate the system. He clicked a few buttons on the keypad, bringing up the facial recognition scanner. He stood still, letting it roam down his face. He didn't have much faith, but it was worth a shot.

Din cursed under his breath as the scanner light lit up red, beeping ecstatically.

"Error. Error. Facial scanning incomplete. Ten seconds until system shutdown." An automated voice informed. Din felt a few gazes burn into his back, no doubt Valen Hess noticing the commotion. "Ten, nine, eight-"

You watched as the timer went down, your hand fingers curling around the blaster in your holster. You didn't know what Din was going to, but you knew if anything— he was a man with a plan.

And that was when he removed his helmet.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, it took the air from your lungs leaving you gasping in silence. You felt like a criminal, looking at him with your own eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't tear the gaze from the back of his head.

Brown hair. Dark brown hair, slightly messy from the helmet. Although you were some distance away, you noticed the little waves and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The cut of the Imperial armour revealed just a sliver of his skin. It was golden tan— surprising to you.

"Facial scanning complete." The dataspike ejected from the terminal, a small light lit up in green, validating that the information had been processed and Din was now the owner of Moff Gideon’s co-ordinates. Just as he was about to put his helmet back on, a voice interrupted him.

Your heart sank when you saw that Valen Hess had approached Din.

"Trooper, where are you stationed?"

"Transportation."

"What?"

"My designation is transport— co-pilot."

"No son, what's your TK number?"

Din felt his throat dry up as he looked the man in the eyes. Valen Hess stared at Din right back, looking into the eyes that nobody had gazed into since Din had been sworn to the Creed. Din swallowed the lump in his throat, only for it to return immediately.

"He's with me." you announced, walking over to Din and Hess. A wash of relief shuttled through Din's body upon hearing your voice, but that was completely blown away when he realised you had seen him. It was true, you had seen his face— but there was no time to act up. Din had sacrificed everything for Grogu and you weren't going to let this go wrong. "This is my trooper, sir."

"Who is he and what's his TK number?" Valen Hess repeated, clicking his tongue between his teeth.

"This is my commanding officer TK-0402, and I'm TK-0322. I'm afraid he doesn't speak much. Ever since his vessel lost pressure on Tanaab." You explained with confidence, sighing apologetically and placing a hand on your hip.

Din found the courage to look at you, making brief yet bewildered glances between you and Valen Hess. He had a thousand questions but he knew he could trust you, and so, he smiled wearily, nodding his head in agreement to your little story.

"What's his name?" Hess inquired.

You took a deep breath, and turned to face Din. He looked at you too, his face softening as your eyes met for the very first time. You felt your heart rate slow down as you took in his appearance. You were nervous, and tensions were high, but as you looked into the Mandalorian's sparkling eyes, you felt a familiar sense of belonging. You felt complete.

"Brown eyes." you whispered, feeling the tears pool up as you tried to choke back a sob. Din smiled at you, just a small smile, but enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. It gave you the reassurance to know that this was all worth it.

"Well, brown eyes," Valen Hess adjusted his belt. "You troopers were both on the transport that brought in the valium, correct? The only surviving shocktroopers, might I add." he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah, that was us." You answered hesitantly.

"Please, come join me for drinks. We must celebrate." Hess said, approaching the table he was originally sat at and ushering you over with an exaggerated gesture.

You and Din exchanged a look before walking over to the table and sinking down into the chair. Hess poured out two cups of caf and slid them over. Din stayed silent for most of the conversation, briefly making utterances of affirmation and nodding his head to suggest that he was indeed listening.

Although, he wasn't listening really. His mind was racing and he couldn't concentrate on anything. Although it wasn't necessarily true, he felt like every head in the room was looking at him. Staring at him. Judging him breaking his oath. Was he a failure? Was he a disgrace to the Creed? Dishonourable? A monster?

"I could blather on 'to health' or 'to success', but… tell me TK-0322, where do you come from?"

"Alderaan." you said without hesitation. Din looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why exactly you had given Hess the details of your real planet.

"Ah, I see…" Hess frowned. "Well, to Alderaan!" he grinned, raising his glass in the air.

"No." you deadpanned and Hess shot you a confused look.

"No?"

"No." you repeated. "Alderaan was a peaceful planet destroyed by the Empire."

"And those on the Death Star, those who aided in the destruction of Alderaan became heroes of the Empire. I was there." he said with pride.

Din watched your face harden as your cheeks burned up with rage. "Heroes?" you croaked out. "For attacking and murdering innocents? Hundreds of thousands of people died on Alderaan. I lost my family."

"Losing the ones we love is simply part of life," Hess revealed with a sigh— and Din felt his heart shatter at his words. He stiffened up, his gaze fixating on the concrete wall as his surroundings began to faze out.

"At what cost?" you whispered. "You know, every day I think about it. I wished there was something I could do to stop it. But no, I was here, fighting for the Empire. While the Empire was out killing my people." You gritted out as tears pricked your eyes. You felt Dins hand manouver under the table and take place on your thigh, as his gloved fingers rubbed comforting circles into the thin material that covered your skin. His hand was large, fitting around your leg perfectly. He held you down, stopping your anxious shaking and you immediately calmed down. Din wasn't going to stop you, but he did want you to not let your feelings intrude on what was really happening right now. Valen Hess, however, looked mortified. You picked up the glass and forced a smile. Din copied your movement and you clinked your glass with his. "To family." you toast, and Din smiles. He smiles so wide a dimple appears in his cheek.

"To family." he confirms, thinking about his son and how close he was to getting him back.

You put the glass of caf back down on the table and quickdrew your blaster, shooting Valen Hess in the chest.

Din knew better than to question you. He took out his own pistol and helped you take down the remaining troopers and Imps in the room before you both raced out of the base.

Of course, you knew that there'd be commotion. You heard the TIE fighter engines as soon as you stepped foot outside. Din grabbed your hand, pulling you along as you both sprinted into the depths of the forest. Once deep enough, you looked up. It was dark, strings of light beaming through the gaps in the trees. But it was enough to illuminate Din. You had envisioned what Din looked like beneath his beskar helmet every single day, and now, you had your answer.

Din took one look at you. He pulled off his leather gloves, dropping them to the ground and placed his hand on your cheek. Subconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his palm as his fingers tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, humming in delight as his bodily warmth transferred to you.

"Din, when we return to the ship you can put your helmet back on. I never saw you." you promised, your voice barely above a whisper and your eyes remaining closed.

"Cyare," Din mumbled, his heart yearning. The pad of his thumb traced your face, following the height of your cheek bones and the arch of your eyebrows and down your nose. "Open your eyes." he requested. Cautiously, you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open as you drunk in his appearance once more.

Brown stubble with a patch of grey graced the lower portion of his face. You reached out, this time your own hand cupping his cheek. Din didn't let go of you, and he let you touch him. Your finger nervously brushed over the coarse hairs and you let out a small giggle as you remembered him telling you from the Fresher room on the Razor Crest that he was going to shave. He had, and now you could see for yourself that it had started growing back.

"Do… do you like what you see?" Din asked nervously, his gaze only temporarily lifting from yours.

You nodded your head. "I do," you admitted. "You're… so handsome."

Din felt his cheeks heat up as you watched the small blush creep upon his face. You were enthralled, seeing him like this. Seeing his humanity— his emotions and expressions. You knew you loved Din, with or without the helmet— but this confirmed everything.

"May I?" Din asked, leaning into you slowly and closing his eyes. The curve of his nose bumped against yours as and the softness of his lips touched you so delicately.

You mumbled a small 'yes' and as your lips parted, Din kissed you. Soft, sweet, but passionate and with heart. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging at it and encouraging Din to kiss you deeper and further. He done so, willingly, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth and vibrating through your body.

He pulled away eventually, breathless and his eyes dark and glazed. "I-I…" he was speechless, looking at you with the utmost adoration. "I love you." He sighed in defeat, knowing now was a better time than any to admit his true feelings. He had to do it one day, and it just so happened to be in the depths of a forest as you hid from Imperials.

"I love you too." you exhaled shakily, thrusting forward into his arms and letting him hold you tight to his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"I love you so much." Din sobbed, his grip around you tightening like he was afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish just like Grogu did. "Please, never leave me. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Din," you promised. "Now c’mon, let's go get Grogu."

PART TWO

#the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 2

1K notes · View notes

lavender-annd-lilac · 2 years ago

Text

🎄BREAKING NEWS🎄

Has “𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” unseated “𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒂” as the current favourite in the Christmas saga?

We’re still counting the vote (one singular vote, from me), but there could be a chance… 🫢

In other news… inside sources tell us that trusted public figure “Science” made a startling confession earlier 😲 we’ll bring you more on this story as it develops.

(The most recent updates can be found in the comments section here)

Lee grumbles, his face set in a permanent scowl

Yaaasss we need more male representation of resting bitch face! Why should ladies have all the fun??

Christmas movie playing quietly on the screen

My brain for no reason: we must figure out this movie!!!

Clues

it’s boring bc reader fell asleep 😴

It’s long bc reader fell asleep 😴

It’s a serious, quiet movie, bc reader fell asleep 😴

*remembers reader is basically sleeping beauty and rarely wakes up*

Oh nvm scratch that 🙁

tugging lightly on your finger that hangs over the edge of the couch, glaring up at you. Daring you to wake up

This is the equivalent of putting oranges on your sleeping cat, just waiting for it to wake up and hit u with a Death Glare

Source 🥹

picturing the confusion in your eyes

Jokes on u dude, reader doesn’t get confused, bc she has no grasp of reality or any kind of internal danger sense. She just accepts the weird happenings around her and goes back to sleep like

Also I’m wondering like, if the elves like have locker room boy talk time where they tell each other about their adventures haha. 😂

But without specifics, so it’s like that comical situation where each guy is like ya, I went to this person’s house and blah blah blah, without realizing they are all visiting the same house lol

Lee begins to climb, gripping whatever material he can.

This is why every single furniture item in my apartment is made of 100% organic banana peels. (Including the apartment itself. I live in a banana). No tiny creature is going to climb up my couch and sneak up on me 😤😤😤

#BigBrainStuff

🤓🧠🍌

His chubby belly bulges against his sweater.

Lol so cute 🥺

Annoyed by the sweet scent of gingerbread filling his senses

Ok WHAT? *checks list*

…I’m not seeing “gingerbread” under the list of officially sanctioned Annoying Smells🧐 let’s see… we’ve got:

Sulphur

Wet dog

Cabbage

Skunk spray

Hm…. Yeah no gingerbread 🤔

he spies a half-eaten gingerbread house on top of the coffee table

My brain for no reason: which half

Me: … why

Brain: I need to assess the current structural integrity of the house

Me: …

Brain: if it’s the top half, the foundation should still be solid, safe to put up some scaffolding and begin repairs 👍

…but if it’s the left side/right side, it’s going to be a more dangerous job - there’s a higher risk of the entire house toppling over like a poorly made tower of Pisa 😬

Me: ok first of all, I don’t think tower of Pisa was that well made in the fist place since it’s leaning like that, and second of all… nvm I can’t do this anymore lol u go ahead with your construction plans, I’ll file for the building permit with the Gingerbread mayor

😮‍💨

grumbling before treading over and on top of your sleeping body

Me: the heck kind of sheriff is this guy? Shouldn’t he like, check if there are any casualties in the house? It’s half demolished 😧😧😧

Brain: oh we put up a danger sign and caution tape around it already. No one is getting on there ⚠️

He continues to grumble as he makes his way up your stomach and to your soft, plump breasts.

Me: Is he spider man?? How is he climbing up? She’s not a rock person, there aren’t any hand holds or foot holds 🤨

Brain: hey do u think 2 gumdrops an hour is a fair wage to pay the gingerbread construction workers or is that not enough? 🤔

he nuzzles closer to your erect nipple, lying flat on his stomach as he presses his face into your soft flesh

Me: This sounds like some cirque du soleil acrobat shit. Like, he’s balancing on the nipple and jerking off and doing whatever his face is doing? AND this is under the sleep shirt so there is like not a lot of lighting… kinda dangerous tbh.

Brain: ooooohhh ask if he can help rebuild the gingerbread house!! Gingerbread people aren’t very flexible, it will be hard for them to do some of the tasks 🫤

Me: ok dude, we HAVE to stop writing ourselves into the story😫.

Remember what happened last time??? When we tricked ourselves into thinking a certain story was about real magic and wizards when it was actually about a fake magician stalking and kidnapping a victim??

Brain: …. I don’t recall 🤥

His lips move off your nipple, placing rough kisses and bites around it.

Idk… I feel like the nipple would be one of the worse places to get a bug bite or mosquito bite, but then elves don’t have venom in their saliva right? They’re just full of… “Christmasy” flavoured fluid apparently haha 😆 which I’m sure is non-lethal

Lee mumbles into your skin, muttering words about how good you feel and how you are such a good girl for him.

Bro u can yell. It takes A LOT to wake this girl up apparently

Wondering how he could’ve kept himself away from you for so long

We love some good old self reflection. Maybe do some journaling about it even 🙏 namaste

Resting his forehead tiredly against your plump flesh, Lee grumbles

Grumpy gus over here lmao. Always grumbling😒. Hey man, just be grateful your house isn’t half eaten - that would be something to actually grumble about

He scoffs, shaking his head, “stupid bitch doesn’t know how to stay clean.”

Lol this is so

Dipping his hands into his cooling cum, he spreads it around and onto your hard nipple, marking you as his.

Ok u know what, depending on the currently unknown composition of the elf jizz, this could potentially be a good moisturizer? Like that snail slime stuff people use for face serums

🐌🐌🐌

Lee’s eyes move to the opening of your shirt, slightly widening when they connect with your curious ones

Reader has no fear. Reader has no sympathetic nervous system to engage the fight or flight response. Reader would not have survived the process of natural selection back in caveman times 😔

Without knowing what to do, he runs toward your face.

Wow ok so he’s like the classic white girl in a horror movie…. instinct is to run towards the unknown danger huh

🫣🫠

swinging a tiny fist directly toward your chin, his face set into a deep scowl, and he glared when you didn’t react. He thought that would work.

Ok and like, what would have happened if it “worked”?? Like, what is the best case scenario here??? What were u trying to achieve??

Also, I don’t endorse the bible, but David had the right idea when he went for the Goliath’s eye. Just saying, he didn’t win by hitting him in the chin with a rock.🙄

a spew of curse words flies out of his mouth

Do elves have any special curse words that are like specific to their culture? Idk like, if someone was showing off would they be like, “look at that pretentious Rudolph red-nose asshole, acting like he’s better than us, smh”

He makes sure to disappear before you think of getting off the couch and following him.

Yeah he could have just walked it out of there. Reader isn’t following anyone lol.

Your eyes slowly flicker over to the Christmas movie playing

Oh shit this thing is still going? It must be like, the extended directors cut or something

not to notice the man in your dreams standing near your beautifully decorated Christmas Tree.

GIRL pls… he’s not even hiding behind the tree. He’s just beside it 😭😭😭 use ur peripheral vision!! 😫😫😫

You didn’t know why but something seemed to be blocking you from freaking out.

Ooooh I see…. 420 blaze it 😎

Whatever it was seemed to bring forth your deepest desires.

Omg true!!

That’s why she got the munchies and ate half the gingerbread house!!!

And licked her hand after Ransom did his thing!!!

Reader isn’t a ditzy airhead at all! She’s just a stoner!!

Wow. Suddenly everything makes sense… the slow reactions, the zoning out, the permanent state of chill…. cool cool, alright

𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

🎄christmas masterlist🎄

warning - smut, swearing, nipple play, getting yourself off with another's breast, slight somno, human reader, tiny elf male, stalker behaviour, violence.

18+ only please, the gif and header aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Lee grumbles, his face set in a permanent scowl as he stares at your sleeping form. His icy eyes flicker over to the Christmas movie playing quietly on the screen before focusing back on what he came for. Lee walks over, tugging lightly on your finger that hangs over the edge of the couch, glaring up at you. Daring you to wake up, picturing the confusion in your eyes causes his cock to strain against his pants.

Lee begins to climb, gripping whatever material he can. Pulling his tiny body up until he reaches the flatness of the couch, small huffs leave him as he tries to catch his breath. His chubby belly bulges against his sweater.

His little pointed ears twitch when he straightens, and his nose scrunches. Annoyed by the sweet scent of gingerbread filling his senses, he spies a half-eaten gingerbread house on top of the coffee table, grumbling before treading over and on top of your sleeping body, lifting your oversized sleep shirt and crawling underneath.

He continues to grumble as he makes his way up your stomach and to your soft, plump breasts. Untucking his hardened member from his pants, he nuzzles closer to your erect nipple, lying flat on his stomach as he presses his face into your soft flesh. Lee’s throbbing cock pokes against you as he begins to lick and suck parts of your nipple and breast.

Lee starts to rut into you, stuffing as much of your nipple into his mouth as possible. Grunts and groans were freely leaving him, his thick tip leaking his creamy pre-cum. His lips move off your nipple, placing rough kisses and bites around it. His pace picks up, little hips thrusting rapidly into you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pleasure becomes too much for him, but it feels too good to stop.

Lee mumbles into your skin, muttering words about how good you feel and how you are such a good girl for him. His eyes keep fluttering closed as your sweet scent fills his senses. Wondering how he could’ve kept himself away from you for so long, Lee moves his way back up to your nipple and latches on.

He can feel his end approaching as his balls tighten, the heavy sacks desperate to release his warm cream. His bulging stomach rubs against you as he thrusts faster. Little whines and moans escape his puffy lips. Gripping your flesh between his chubby fingers, Lee groans around your nipple. His cock twitches as he releases all over you.

Resting his forehead tiredly against your plump flesh, Lee grumbles, getting onto his knees slowly before looking down at the mess he’s made. He scoffs, shaking his head, “stupid bitch doesn’t know how to stay clean.” Dipping his hands into his cooling cum, he spreads it around and onto your hard nipple, marking you as his.

Lee’s eyes move to the opening of your shirt, slightly widening when they connect with your curious ones. Without knowing what to do, he runs toward your face. His chubby little body moved faster than ever before, swinging a tiny fist directly toward your chin, his face set into a deep scowl, and he glared when you didn’t react. He thought that would work.

Quickly jumping out of your shirt and making a run for it down your body and off the couch, a spew of curse words flies out of his mouth. He makes sure to disappear before you think of getting off the couch and following him.

You sit there, brows furrowed. You wondered if what you just saw was real. Your eyes slowly flicker over to the Christmas movie playing, confusion still set deep in your bones, causing you not to notice the man in your dreams standing near your beautifully decorated Christmas Tree.

You didn’t know why but something seemed to be blocking you from freaking out. Whatever it was seemed to bring forth your deepest desires.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker

278 notes · View notes

crumbledcastle28 · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: A Squeeze

Warnings: mentions of violence and anxiety, people getting shot, reader gets tense, Mando is extremely touch starved, and softness.

Author’s Note: Chapter 11! This one is one of my personal favs, so I hope you enjoy!

Gif by bestintheparsec

As you traveled with the crew near the outskirts of town, you couldn’t stop thinking about what the child had done the night before.

Your entire life, death has plagued you. Everywhere you went you carried the guilt of death and knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had heard legends of a Sith named Darth Plagueis who had the power to stop death, but he was deep in the dark side.

You were never going to go down that road.

All you knew was this little kid was powerful. More powerful than you realized, and definitely more powerful than Mando realized. He had been so concerned about keeping this child safe for so long, when in reality, the kid had the ability to keep Mando safe the whole time.

But at the end of the day, the Empire was still around. They would figure out the child’s powers eventually if they kept coming after him, and you were not going to let what happened to you happen to him.

You had been in deep thought for so long, you barely noticed Mando giving a little tap on your elbow. You were a little startled, but relaxed at Mando’s voice.

“You ok?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah… I’m ok,” you respond. “I just… never knew that was possible,” you say, referring back to the child.

You looked down at his sleeping form in the pram next to you, and you smiled at his vulnerable state. What could such a little brain like that dream about?

Mando went quiet after you responded to his concern, and you knew it was because there really isn’t a good way to respond. He obviously didn’t know the kid’s potential either, and he was probably in even more shock than you were.

“Thank you, for checking in on me,” you say, finally turning around to meet his gaze. You had been riding on the same blurrg for a while, but you were trapped in your own head. His closeness to you was starting to make a blush crawl up your neck.

He nodded in an understanding way, and you headed on.

~~*~~

After some time, you noticed that Karga and his two bounty hunters were talking in whispers as they walked in front of you, and that obviously rubbed Cara the wrong way.

“You guys think they’re having second thoughts?” she asked in a teasing tone, and you returned a breathy laugh.

You tried to hide your smile, but that had been the first time she acknowledged you in days, and she was even joking with you? You didn’t want to get her hopes up, but maybe Cara was having second thoughts as well.

“Could be,” Mando replied. “I need you two to help me keep an eye on them.”

You and Cara nodded your heads, and scanned the hunters’ bodies with your eyes for a few minutes. The three of you had switched to being on foot while Kuiil took the only remaining blurrg.

All of a sudden, a bluff overlooking the town appeared, and Karga was gazing down at the city below.

“I guess this is it,” he said, but he was still facing the view.

The other two bounty hunters had stated to make their way behind you, and the alarms in your head were blaring.

You heard every step, every ruffle, and every breath they made. And it was driving you crazy.

They were at your backs, but you had your longspear in hand. You had better skills than these two by a long shot.

Suddenly, Karga spins around, and fires at the two bounty hunters who instantly hit the ground.

You drew your own weapon, while Mando and Cara approached Karga from either side with their weapons drawn as well.

You knew it. This man was not to be trusted. He could have shot the kid!

“There’s something you should know,” Karga says, and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Please. Enlighten us,” you say sarcastically, but you have venom in your voice. Karga can feel it, so he immediately transitions into his explanation.

“The plan was to kill you and take the kid,” Karga says, and your blood boils.

“But after what happened last night… I couldn’t go through with it. Go on, you can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn’t violate the code. But if you do, this child will never be safe.”

Your weapon was still at the ready, and Cara and Mando didn’t seem convinced either.

“We will take our chances,” Cara says.

“Perhaps you should let him speak,” Kuiil says, and you glance over your shoulder to look at him. This poor man had been though a lot, yet his voice exuded such gentleness. It reminded you of Mando’s voice when he talked to you.

“We both need the client eliminated,” Karga said, “let me take the child to him, and then you three…”

“No,” Mando interupts. He lowers his blaster, and glances at you to lower your weapon.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Cara seems to have the same reaction.

“What are you doing,” she asks, and you are wondering the same thing.

“As long as the Imp lives, he will send hunters after the Child,” Mando says, and you are starting to understand what he’s getting at.

“Bring me. Tell him you captured me. Get me close, and I’ll kill him,” Mando says to Karga, and you hate the gleam of excitement that flashed in Karga’s eyes.

“That’s a good idea,” Karga responded. “Give me your blaster.”

“This is insane,” Cara said, turning to look at you. You see Mando giving his blaster to Karga, and you honestly don’t even know what to think.

Karga just openly admitted to betraying you and trying to kill Mando, so there was no way you would trust him in the slightest. But at the same time, what other choice did you have? The child had to be safe, and Mando was right. The hunters won’t ever stop.

You give Cara a look of pity, but you lower your longspear. Your shoulders slightly relax, and you feel your grip loosening.

“What else can we do?” you ask her, and she looked away in disgust.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Cara said. “I’ll tell them I caught you.”

“Then she can bring the child,” Karga said, and Cara started to relax a little.

“No,” Mando said firmly. “The kid goes with y/n back to the ship.”

You and Mando were normally on the same page, but you had to admit, that didn’t really make any sense.

“But without the child none of this works,” Karga said, and you hated that you agreed with him.

“I have a plan,” he says to the two of them, and then he strides over to you.

“I need you to ride to the ship with Kuiil and the kid and seal yourselves in. Engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors,” Mando says to you as he guides the Child in his pram over to your arms.

You look into Mando’s visor, trying to find his eyes, but an evil, anxious part of you starts to awaken.

This could be the last time you stare into that helmet.

If this goes wrong, Mando and Cara would be almost laughably outnumbered by the Imps.

You continue to search for his eyes, and you sigh quietly. You have to keep yourself together for him.

Mando breaks the eye contact to rub the child’s ears, and you long for him to look back at you. The trance you guys enter when you look at each other is so cheesy, but it feels real. You wanted to stare at him forever.

“Be careful,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear.

He looks back at you and nods, but you notice he is squeezing his fists at his sides again.

He keeps trying to stop himself from something, and you are too impatient to figure out what it is, so you take his hands in yours and give them a gentle squeeze.

He looked down at your hands in his. You didn’t know it, but Mando was soaking in the fact that you were showing him more kindness in your touch than he had experienced in decades. Mando struggled, he managed to meet your eyes again.

“You too,” he says, rubbing your knuckles, and you smile at him.

He lets go of your hands gently, and you pray to whatever God was out there that he would not leave them permanently empty.

~~*~~

After Mando gave you your assignment, you and Kuiil immediately got a move on back to the Razor Crest with the child in your arms.

You hold the child close to your chest as Kuiil drives the blurrg behind you, and you give the child a little squeeze. Your nerves are starting to get the better of you.

Before, you could have worked with a crew like this and never felt a thing. They were going in outnumbered, so what? You were in the safe position and you had the prize in your arms? What did you care?

But now, your very hope at being happy again was walking into an imperial guarded death trap, pretending to be taken prisoner.

You hated this plan. Mando and Cara were smart, so you decided not to question their decision, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still have your doubts.

The only thing keeping you sane was the cooling air hitting your face as you rode, and the little gurgles from the child in your arms.

This is all you could control at this moment. You could control his safety, and you were not going to fail.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @farfromjustordinary @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @440mxs-wife

#din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

194 notes · View notes

remsmoonlight · 3 years ago

Text

— title : sweeter than candy

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other.

— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death

“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.

A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.

One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.

Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.

Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.

“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.

“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.

“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “

“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.

“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “

“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.

Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.

“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.

“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “

“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.

“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.

She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.

“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “

“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.

Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.

Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.

Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.

Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.

A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.

About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.

That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.

Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.

The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.

He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.

Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.

A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.

A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.

“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “

“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.

“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “

“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “

“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.

“ I know, Daryl. “

Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.

“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “

His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.

“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.

“ Y’can’t promise that. “

“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.

“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.

“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.

“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “

Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.

“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.

“ Like what?! Huh? “

“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.

“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.

Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.

“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “

“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “

He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.

“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.

He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.

In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd imagine #daryl fic #twd oneshot #daryl dixon imagine

121 notes · View notes

thalassic-p4rk · 3 years ago

Text

I Have Time || 10th Doctor x reader (oneshot)

A/N: howdy! this is my first fic ever, so its gonna suck ass but that’s probably okay. Originally this was going to be about Rises the Moon by Lianna Flores, but i figured this was more fitting :) pls leave comments if you want more stuff from me, or just things i can improve in general. maybe if ppl like this, i’ll write another one. but for now, allons-y!!

Summary: Ten handles the death of the Master about as well as you’d think, and falls into a depression. One night, the reader comforts him after a nightmare about the past that recent events have brought up.

Warnings: depression, anxiety attack, nightmares, insomnia, accidental s/h

W/C: 1,147

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

The Master was dead.

You were sad, yes. But you had only known him as a maniacal tyrant, as the man who killed your people by the millions. And although you had barely survived, trying to get by post-apocalypse, you were the only one to remember. All the dead had been brought back, the planet reborn and memories wiped from everyone’s minds except you and a select few. From your perspective, you considered everything to be even now. You could shatter into a million tiny pieces with ease, but nonetheless you were always quick to pull yourself back together and move on, so that’s exactly what you did.

So it was ironic, but not surprising, that the ever-stable Doctor was having trouble with that.

It broke your heart seeing him like this. Your Doctor, always such a strong, unmovable support, who always had a smile on his face despite the unending grief that seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in his warm gaze, was completely and utterly broken. Sometimes, when he was asleep, you would step out of the Tardis, wherever you were parked, and scream. You screamed, yelling profanities at the sky. You cursed the universe, unable to comprehend why it was putting him through this. Your Doctor, your beautiful, wonderful, kind, lovely Doctor, did not deserve this. He did not deserve any of this. You were angry at everyone and everything, because he didn’t have the strength to be.

It was one such night. He hadn’t left his room in the Tardis all day, and you were angry again. You couldn’t let him see you break down. Not when everyone always depended on him constantly. Not after he had already helped you through so many panic attacks and depressive episodes. He always took care of you and everyone else in this blasted universe, whether they deserved it or not. Now it was your turn to take care of him. If he saw you like this, he would only feel more guilty. You just... felt so helpless. You would give anything to help him. Anything to make him feel better. If you could take the weight off his shoulders and carry it yourself, you would do it in a heartbeat. You let out another sob. You hated feeling useless, hated that he had to go through this, hated that there wasn’t anything else you could do to help him. You take a deep breath, and let it out as a shaky sigh. It was probably around two in the morning, and you should go back inside. Your silk pj’s did nothing to ward off the chill.

As soon as you close the door behind you, you notice something is wrong. You scan the room, immediately alert, but you can’t pinpoint anything in particular. It just feels off somehow. You hum in interest, before deciding that you’re too tired to care. You take slow steps down the corridor to your room, paying rapt attention to any subtle movements or noises.

Nothing.

You huff and open your door, taking a step through the threshold. You freeze.

Was that a whimper?

You halt all movements and hold your breath. A low whine reaches your ears, coming from across the hall.

Coming from the Doctor’s room.

You turn on your heel and take off sprinting for the door at the end of the hall. You don’t bother knocking, your panic and sleep-addled brain running on pure adrenaline. You open the door and let your eyes adjust to the dark.

A part of you dies at the sight in front of you.

His eyes are squeezed shut, nose scrunched up in a way you would usually find adorable, but now it just made him look more pitiful. He’s whimpering and writhing on the bed, tangling himself in the sheets and trapping himself further. You jump into action, running over and sitting on the foot of his bed, before noticing the fresh scratch marks running down his arms. Did he do that to himself?

Studying him carefully, you notice tear tracks running down his face and his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip. He goes to tear at his arms again, and you brace yourself, knowing this was going to be a struggle. You grab his wrists in both hands and pull them above his head. He continues his thrashing, and while you hate to make him panic further, you know it’s necessary what you were about to do. You push yourself up on your knees, still pinning his hands above his head, and swing your leg across his waist, straddling his torso. You carefully avoid sitting on top of him fully and cutting off his air flow, instead merely hovering above him, as you scan him for any other injuries. Besides a bloody lip, he seems to be otherwise alright physically.

He’s still thrashing against you, but now you have the advantage and move both his wrists into one of your hands. You use your newly freed hand to gently touch his cheek, wondering for the second time that night why he had to go through this. You make shushing noises, trying to calm him. When that doesn’t work, you maneuver next to him, and wrap your arms around him as gently as possible, trying to convey a sense of safety. He slows his thrashing somewhat, seeming resigned.

An idea pops into your mind, and you think of a song from Earth that you sang to yourself when you were frightened as a child. You let go of his arms as he calms down a bit and bring your hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it soothingly. You take a breath, lean into his ear, and start quietly singing.

The lake sort of knows me.

You can feel the instant he wakes and becomes aware of his surroundings. His entire body goes lax in your grip as his honey-colored eyes flutter open.

Was it you who promised time?

He looks at you, warm eyes so full of grief and he lets out a shuddering breath as the fear leaves him.

Lead me to a land so green,

His mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out and you just hold him tighter.

So she’ll stay awhile.

You kiss his forehead, drawing constellations on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, with your fingers.

Please take me there, I am ready.

He curls up into your chest as you continue to pet his soft, mussed up hair.

The ship sways,

You rock him gently back and forth, back and forth, to where the melodies of the song would end and begin if you were playing guitar.

but the heart is steady.

His breathing evens out as he slips back into sleep, this time more peaceful, listening to your single heart beating.

I have time.

-fin-

#10th doctor #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #gender-neutral reader #gender neutral!reader #ten #angst #hurt/comfort #fanfic #*sobs uncontrollably*#my poor baby #he did not deserve that #he deserves the world #he deserved better #he is so precious #please help

100 notes · View notes