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shmaptainwrites · 9 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year.

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make.

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks.

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath.

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?”

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?”

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.”

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest.

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son.

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed.

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do.

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy.

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood.

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more.

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you.

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down.

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.”

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him.

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.”

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might.

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House.

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?”

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James.

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you.

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you.

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily.

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly.

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head.

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.”

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son.

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.”

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?”

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?”

“That’s not what I-,”

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.”

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment,

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.”

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son.

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest.

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU.

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son.

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold.

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most.

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally.

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked.

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head.

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.”

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area.

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.”

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.”

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?”

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.”

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked.

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor.

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,”

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated.

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.”

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented.

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked.

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James.

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?”

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together.

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.”

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.”

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs.

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands.

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.”

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said.

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed.

“No, no it’s not.”

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you.

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest.

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself.

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away.

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted.

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier.

“No, why?”

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?”

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked.

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?”

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.”

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him.

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news.

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle.

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to.

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own.

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed.

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian.

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes.

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe.

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand.

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.”

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours.

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings.

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.”

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled.

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process.

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off.

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.”

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him.

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.”

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up.

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period.

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.”

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face.

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.”

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station.

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators.

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food.

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.”

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head.

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.”

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party.

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done.

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital.

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital.

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh.

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.”

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork.

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it.

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand.

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths.

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked.

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.”

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.”

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted.

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late.

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time.

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.”

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private.

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!”

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.”

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?”

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?”

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.”

James placed his hands on his hips and said,

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,”

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.”

When he said nothing you continued.

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.”

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head,

“Okay,” he said simply.

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents.

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital.

“No, not this time,” you shook your head.

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together.

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?”

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that.

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up.

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening.

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end.

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?”

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.”

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked.

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.”

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying.

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,”

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside.

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.”

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen.

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea.

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.”

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass.

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.”

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded.

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.”

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding.

“These are all good ideas,” you started.

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?”

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.”

James shook his head.

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.”

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly.

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.”

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.”

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.”

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light.

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?”

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.”

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him.

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?”

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen.

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing.

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him.

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.”

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you.

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.”

James pressed his lips together and sighed,

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.”

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room.

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses.

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.”

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress.

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room.

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head,

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…”

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled.

“James I’m begging you-,”

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head.

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out.

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch.

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married.

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food.

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island.

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad.

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you.

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.”

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example.

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.”

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked.

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.”

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled.

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.”

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing.

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.”

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded.

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.”

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh.

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!”

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.”

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug.

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.”

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable.

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad.

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.”

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.”

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded.

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James.

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit.

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.”

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?”

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.”

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.”

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.”

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room.

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep.

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed.

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked.

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed.

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright.

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?”

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James.

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up.

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice.

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?”

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks.

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.”

“James-,”

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive.

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him.

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in.

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!”

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.”

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay.

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back.

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband.

“No,” he stated just as firmly.

“James-,”

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away.

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter.

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.”

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?”

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake.

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?”

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.”

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.”

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian.

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward.

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together.

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible.

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted.

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs.

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?”

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face.

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.”

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you.

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders.

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh.

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed.

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?”

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.”

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?”

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details.

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.”

“Promise?” Julian whispered.

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.”

“I love you guys too.”

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out.

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.”

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested.

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together.

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?”

House was silent so James explained,

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.”

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted.

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office.

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked.

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside.

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label.

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically.

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back.

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?”

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand.

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you.

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach.

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one.

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head.

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.”

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned.

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.”

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.”

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago.

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.”

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking.

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well.

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic.

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian.

“He does?”

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,”

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively.

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours.

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.”

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.”

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.”

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.”

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply.

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…”

You shook your head.

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.”

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son.

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.”

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect.

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job.

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing.

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle.

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.”

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins.

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.”

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked.

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.”

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.”

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself.

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine.

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other.

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.”

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page.

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look.

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes.

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo.

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.”

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added.

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant.

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy.

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous.

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again.

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel.

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look.

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you.

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked.

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph.

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp.

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head.

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face.

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications.

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies.

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red.

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower.

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head.

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening.

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.”

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son.

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless.

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained.

“And what were you doing up?” you asked.

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands.

“So, is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower.

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water.

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you.

“A bad dream?” he asked.

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs.

“Was it about us?”

He took your silence as a yes.

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned forward sitting on the bathroom counter.

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest.

“Would you tell me?”

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled.

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again,

“What was it about?”

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak.

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.”

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.”

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.”

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure.

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt.

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently.

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter.

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered.

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head.

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say.

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.”

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?”

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted.

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused.

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.”

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you.

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.”

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer.

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you.

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian.

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face.

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him.

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.”

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James.

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him.

“You don’t mind?”

“Just this once.”

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed.

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep.

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair.

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad.

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?”

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own.

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.”

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.”

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked.

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you.

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said.

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this.

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him.

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?”

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled.

You looked up at James and he shrugged.

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I could eat,” you nodded your head.

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested.

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?”

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go.

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings.

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married.

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch.

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow.

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you.

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink.

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?”

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized.

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you.

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.”

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired.

“Do I have to?” you asked.

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled.

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

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly.

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.”

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.”

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.”

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak,

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on.

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?”

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question.

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough.

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.”

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern.

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.”

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.”

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.”

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer.

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls.

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.”

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?”

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?”

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him.

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.”

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.”

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.”

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again.

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear.

“James,” you breathed.

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.”

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart.

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks.

“Jamie?”

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname.

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I count on you?”

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that.

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.”

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face.

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

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lowkeyerror · 9 months ago

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The Family Business Ch.3

WandNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Notes: Mentions of death, violence, underaged drinking, slight mentions of SA, lisichka=little fox

Summary: Natasha has heard stories of you from Wanda. It has her doubting your current day skill level. With Dragos and Wanda in a meeting, you get the chance to tell her a bit about the person you've become.

An: Finally something between Y/n and Natasha (I say finally as if this isn't chapter 3 lol) Anyway enjoy this chapter and see you back next week.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as you worked. It was tedious work, but you typed away with a smile on your face regardless. You thought that maybe she’d pick up her phone or something, but she seemed to just watch you.

“You want to ask me something or you just going to keep staring?” You kept your eyes on the computer screen as you addressed her.

“You’re different than Wanda said you’d be,” was all that she said.

You finally looked at the red head, “Well like I said, it’s been a while since she has seen me. A lot has changed in the years she’s been gone.”

“Like what?”

You paused your work to give Natasha your full attention. You sat back fully in your chair pondering back to the last time you saw Wanda. “Well, she left before I graduated. Back then I thought I was going to take my degrees, find an honest job, and live a normal life. I was fragile, even after the self-defense training. I hadn’t held a gun, I hadn’t hacked into anything, I was just a little girl.”

“And now?”

You gesture around you, “Now, I have this nice office. I crunch numbers for the most high-profile company in town, that just happens to be a front for a criminal organization. I have 2 degrees, I can defend my family and myself, I’ve shot a gun more times than I can count, and I could hack into anything that you could imagine.”

“You’ve got a ledger?” The line about the gun seemed to stick out to Natasha.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ve carried my weight.”

“How many?”

The question startles you a bit. It was so candid as if she was asking about the weather. You could see them, the people you had killed. It wasn’t a large number, not even in the double digits, but still.

“7.” You don't know what compelled you to keep speaking,” I remember all of them. What is it they say about the first one? You will never forget it. I was 20, it was before I joined the organization. Pietro had dragged me to some party.”

“I take it you weren’t a party animal back then?”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Not even a little so I did what everyone does to get comfortable at a party. I took a few shots, it was stupid. As a light weight and someone not of legal drinking age, I should've been more careful. The shots had loosened me up, so I was enjoying the party for awhile. I lost Pietro at some point, but I was too drunk to notice.”

You see Natasha frown a bit, but you continue, “The host of party finds me on the dance floor. We dance for a while; we don't say much, just hi. Someone spilled a drink on me while we were dancing. He offered to get me a new shirt. Like the innocent little idiot I was, I followed him up to his room.”

You paused, almost feeling like you were back in that moment. You could feel everything again, your skin was hot and sweaty, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel him on you.

Natasha could sense she lost you to the memory. She got up from the couch in your office to make her way towards you. She took a seat on the edge of your desk and pulled your hands into hers. “What happened in his room?”

“He tried to take advantage of me. He tore my shirt off just so his gross hands could grope my skin. He pulled me against him fiddled with his belt before trying mine. His breath was hot on my neck as he peppered kisses on my collarbone. When his hand slipped into my pants, is when it really clicked in my head. I had told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. You know the kind of guys that say, ‘you want this’ or ‘you teased me all night’ or ‘You’re the one half naked in my room’. He was one of those, no wasn’t going to cut it.”

Natasha squeezes your hand as you recount the harsh memory. It looks like you could cry right there in the office. Then all of a sudden, the tears pooling in your eyes are gone. A blank expression takes over your face.

“For a minute, I pretend I’m into what this creep is doing to me. Only enough for him to loosen his grip on me. At this point my back was against his front. I reach behind his head, like my arms trying to loop to bring him closer. Except one of my hand rests on top of his head and the other one is on the opposite side of his jaw. I snapped his neck. His body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.”

“Y/n- “

“I threw up when I saw him. After I was done, I called Pietro, he found me upstairs with the body. He felt so guilty for leaving me, but I could tell he was surprised too. So surprised that fragile little Y/n had snapped someone’s neck.”

Natasha’s eyes bored into yours, “That asshole deserved that. He deserved worse.”

“He didn’t rest even in death. Dragos made sure of it. He made that family’s life a living hell. It was a message to the entire city that I was under their protection. If anyone so much as laid a finger on me there would be dire consequences.”

A silence filled the room. Natasha didn't remove her hand from yours and you didn't ask her too. You glanced back at your computer, knowing you had to finish your work.

“Wanda never said you were fragile, just delicate,” Natasha’s fingers drew patterns on your hand.

You shake your head, “Wanda has always had a way with turning something negative into a positive. I never saw the difference between the two words, but she’d always say- “

“Fragile things break quickly into millions of pieces under the slightest pressure,” Natasha starts as if she had been there when Wanda said it to you.

“If you were fragile, you wouldn’t be here with us. You’re delicate, beautiful, intricate, and deserve to be handled with care,” you finish with a fond smile on your lips.

“For what it’s worth, I think she was right,” Natasha returns to her space on the couch to allow you to keep working.

She finally pulls out her phone seeming to have relaxed a bit because of your vulnerability. You want to refocus on work, but there are some questions that are nagging you about the woman in your office.

“How did you two meets? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Natasha ponders a minute for a suitable answer, and you take note of it, “The short version is that we met at work.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And what did you do for work?”

“Guess.”

You let your eyes look over the woman. You took in her relaxed posture, the muscles hiding under her shirt, the way she allowed you to be vulnerable with her, the mischievous glint in her eye. She was a multifaceted woman, you could tell.

“Spy, a Russian spy to be exact.”

Natasha seems slightly surprised, “How’d you guess Russian?”

“Romanoff sounds suspiciously close to Romanov, common last name in old Russia.”

“You’re a smart lisichka aren’t you?”

A blush takes over your features, “Little fox is new, but you’re stalling, Natasha.”

She crosses her arms across her chest, “Well I was formerly spy, turned into assassin for hire. I was anonymously hired to kill Wanda.”

“Too charming to kill?”

Natasha sighs, “I tried, but she was just too good. We started this rivalry, playful banter, suggestive tones, I spent a lot of time trapped under her thighs. It got to the point where I didn’t want to kill her, I had terminated the contract, but I just kept coming around to see her. She told me that my skills were being wasted on petty assassinations, when I could be working for her. I said the only way I’d consider was if she went out with me. The rest is history.”

“Leave it to Wanda to seduce an assassin.”

Natasha laughs, “Hey, she only seduced me because I let her.”

“Whatever you say super spy. I’ve got to finish this work before we have to leave for dinner.”

“Flora might have your head if you show up late,” Natasha comments.

You press the small button on your desk, “Thanks for reminding me. Kate, do you think you could get me some hydrangeas for Mrs.Maximoff.”

“Of course, Y/nn, anything for you,” she responds cheerfully.

You roll your eyes, “Thanks Katie.”

With that you're back to working. Though Natasha pulls out her phone, you still feel her eyes on you at time. It sends shivers up your spine, yet you don't want her to stop looking.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat #pietro maximoff

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mischiefmaker615 · 4 months ago

Text

Bang Bang

Requester: @Laer111ee (wattpad)

Rating: R

Summary: Enemies to Lovers

Inspiration: Bang Bang by K'NAAN

Note: my goodness.. it may be my longest one shot

Loki’s POV

I’ve always known humans to be the weaker species, surely much lower than most of the nine realms of this universe. It wasn’t until I had really spent an.. annoyingly long amount of time on Midgard to realize I could still be surprised.

It was strange, how Midgardians have history books filled to the brim of war and chaos, caused by their own doing. Why is it that when I try to rule, they turn against the idea? They most certainly have no problems living with those elected to decide how they live; is it because I am the god of chaos that makes things different? That I am not human? All.. nuisance cast aside with how things went upon them sending their earth’s mightiest heroes, I did at least gain one positive aspect through it all.

Her.

Was wasn’t quite special, no powers running through her delicate yet capable feminine body. Just years, perhaps a great solid decade at most of hard-core training- that humans would consider hard core. Gods even I am picking up on their simpleton language. Nevertheless, whatever this woman has gone through to earn her spot amongst these Avengers, she was truly the first, pure human that could actually get my body to tense in battle, for me to actually have to concentrate, to be less.. cocky, as I’m told.

She keeps up.

“you have a nasty habit of running from the inevitable-‘’ she called, slowly walking through some abandoned building as I kept myself around the corner from her eye sight.

The SHIELD uniform hugged beautifully to her body, much more mesmerizing than The Widow. She quickly let her eyes flick down briefly to make sure she was carefully walking amongst the debris, going right back up to make sure I hadn’t appeared in sight yet. It was quite amusing, the serious in her face as she searched for me, this not even being the first time she’s sought me out.

Although this woman walked around half the time with a loaded shotgun, -though it was hardly enough to concern me, something about her seemed to make me feel like I could have no concern with whatever she would point at me. Like she wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, though I wasn’t quite in the mood to test out the possible bluff. She seemed to shoot me straight in the heart anyway, and to my own surprise, it came with no pain..

Why they don’t send someone with heightened abilities, I am unsure. Yet she’s lasted this long, though most of our encounters I’ve held back a lot- and she knows it. I just tend to always look forward to our next encounter, and I can’t very much do that if she is in a recovery wing. I am not a fool though, and normally there is either one or two Avengers outside the building in which I sneak to, indicating that she is perhaps still being put to the test by going after me.

‘’and yet you still follow darling.’’ I chuckle, using the angles where my voice could echo rather than give away my location as I eye the gun clutched in her hands. ‘’tell me, how many times will your heroes send you before they finally think you’ll catch me?’’

Her E/C eyes narrow, her head moving to all directions as she pressed on, her nose twitched as she ignored the knocking feeling to sneeze with all the dust. Cute.

‘’perhaps I’ve been holding back as well, when are you going to have the balls to have a real fight with me?’’

I couldn’t help but smirk at her vulgar language, most likely using sarcasm to substitute her fear, though I did not smell any on her. I began moving myself through the halls, knowing from a birds eye view of the building, I was making my way around so I could be behind her. ‘’when I know you won’t break as soon as I touch you..’’ quite often, I’ve hinted at an inuendo. As I’ve pushed much of the thoughts down, it wasn’t new for the idea of perhaps laying down with her to cross my mind if even given the opportunity- though I do like my partners willing most of the time.

‘’how about you stop hiding like a coward then?’’

It was a weak answer, but I knew she just wanted me to keep talking to give away my position as I quietly turn the corner and was now getting an eye view of her backside- hips swaying with a sculpted rump. I have wondered if those heroes merely send her for me to be distracted in hopes that she could use that to defeat me.. it hasn’t quite worked yet.

“It could be fun if you stop holding back.’’

My brow raised at her last statement. Did she enjoy these pointless battles just as much as I did? I rather sought out her closeness, her sarcasm and fierceness though she was as harmless as a young mongrel. I could always smell her scent when we fought, almost seeing the oils and soaps she uses and there was only one time I could have sworn I could smell arousal. My cock twitched at the mere thought and brought me out of my thoughts as I slowed my pace behind her. Though this closeness now I just couldn’t resist.

‘’you want fun then? Let’s have fun..’’ I whisper in her ear, seeing her body tense at the realization of my whereabouts and I had just enough time to inhale, my eyes fluttering as I got what I wanted before I leaned back when she swung an elbow back.

She was quick, turning around and pointed her gun towards me in which I was quick to grab and yank free before I had to watch her other arm. Fighting Midgardians was almost like fighting something that moved in slow motion, and I was happy to play along as I let her hit my chest now and again though I could tell she had gotten stronger since the last time we’ve met.

‘’dare I say you also look forward to our little dance sweet Y/N?’’ I smirk, teasing her to throw off her concentration as she glares, increasing her speed as she keeps trying to find an opening.

‘’I look forward to finally seeing you behind glass again Loki’’ she snapped though I gathered no anger in her voice as she dropped down and I quickly stepped back from a leg swing.

‘’ah so you much prefer talking than our physical interactions out here?’’ I press before she humps back to her feet, ramming the top of her head into my jaw. It didn’t hurt but it was the force that had my eyes fly up and I had to regain my footing as she kept going at punching at my pressure points- trying through my armor at least.

‘’I prefer you putting your mouth to better use-‘’ she cut herself off, the surprise matching my own as her body stilled for a split second and she shook her head ‘’interrogation!’’ she added, trying to redirect her meaning as her mistaken inuendo had my humor triggers.

I laughed and something in my chest seemed to switch at how this woman made me feel in that moment where she was quick to try to correct herself by fighting harder. It worked.

For once she got the best of me, fighting rather dirty through her embarrassment and opted to quick me in the groin. My amusement was quickly replaced with pain and she had me on my back in an instant with her blade to my neck. My hands were up, palms towards her in a surrender position where we both caught our breath.

‘’let me know if the offer still stands,’’ I smirk, knowing any wrong moves she would press the blade deeper than it was as I felt the slight warm trickle of blood at my neck.

Her free hand moved to her thigh, my eyes watching rather mesmerized as my mind screamed to get me out of this situation. With her body on top of mine quick comfortably in a pin, my body had other plans and wished to remain as she pulled out her radio. Sound seemed to have left my ears, seeing her speak but I couldn’t hear anything as I watched her.

This woman was different..

That had been quite some time ago, perhaps a little bit over a year and It was only 3 months later of.. attempted interrogations, they even sent her, because they realized my “plans” haven’t been put into place yet, day saved if it hasn’t started yet. After those boring 3 months, I found out someone had requested and convinced me to remain house bound to the Avengers tower, participating in community service here and there if my magic needed to be put to use depending on the foe they were fighting that same day. Of course, they never let me out without a particular Asgardian bracelet my idiot brother brought back that would dull my abilities, ensuring my escape would not be easily attempted.

When I had arrived at the tower for my new living situation, I received the not-so-surprising welcome from those heroes, and I often wondered who convinced SHIELD to let me be housed here. When my eyes landed on Y/N, those features reddened and her eye contact wavered, I knew it was here. I never brought it up, but as we conversed here and there throughout my time, her kindness compared to the others was a define confirmation where I never really needed to ask.

And our friendship grew.

Reader’s POV

Loki and I were similar in many ways- not so much the fact that he killed people or tried to take over the world or that he was narssassistic.. okay perhaps not that similar. Though in many house-life ways we seemed to be two peas in a pod.

I knew from the start the Avengers had sent me first to try to take him down, to put me to the test, so to speak, during my training days. To everyones surprise, he and I weren’t the stereotypical enemies. I would never admit it, but Loki was right.. fighting him was almost something I would look forward to, because we knew we couldn’t bring ourselves to kil each other.

Weve grown in friendship since he’s arrived, I noticed long before there was something different about him.. so I spoke with Fury and although Loki hasn’t figured it out yet- to my knowledge, I was assigned to secretly ‘babysit him’.

Whenever he entered the room, I couldn’t help but look at him with the feeling that my lips wanted to curl into a smile. There was a strange flutter in my chest, almost a wanting that I hoped he would sit next to me, talk to me, anything where I was really in his attention. He strongly disliked everyone else, perhaps me a bit less so I hope that wasn’t the main reason why he would come over..

I don’t want him to hate me..

We sat across from each other in another meeting, hosted by Rogers as he yet again had to debrief us on how we could do better on the latest assignment. From the corner of my eye, I could tell Loki was staring and I shifted a little shyly by his intense gaze. Whenever I would move to look back at him, his eyes were quick to move on Rogers and sometimes I would question if he had really been looking over here or not.

Just to test that theory, I would sometimes lean forward against my forearms on the table, my clevage showing a bit more with whatever top I was wearing that day. From the corner of my eye I could see Loki seeming to study my skin, him taking a strained swallow as he shifted in his seat sutly. I couldn’t help but smirk as I ‘listened’ to Steve, loving to tease this man to get back at mild mischief he would throw around in the tower when he was bored.

I would only sit back in my chair when I notice Tony activitly leaning forward to stare down my chest, hearing a growl form Loki as he seemed to look jealous before I would roll my eyes at Stark.

He would after flirt, casually of course in a normal conversation and catch me off guard where he’d smirk at how red my cheeks would get. Often mentally preparing myself to see him every day I would usually beat him to it with a flirtation inundo where he then would either stutter or turn away to try to make sure I wouldn’t see his own cheeks redden.

Cat and mouse, taking turns on who would be played and the player.

That’s how our relationship was, flirting and conversing. The only one who could hold up an interesting conversation around here and get me to think. He had so many ideas, good ones, and thoughts where we’d lose track of time. Truth be told I think I have began to gain feelings for this god.. and it scared me to death but upon seeing how.. for lack of a better term, weak, I could make him, it also made me feel bold, powerful, and I liked the person I was when I was around him.

Yet it’s not like he felt the same.. I probably was just another weak mortal in his eyes, decent enough to kill time with if this was all the options he had..

Nobody’s POV

Loki’s footsteps slowed, moving with causton down the halls as soon as he heard slight sound coming from the kitchen down the hall. Exactly where he was heading to In the middle of the night, as one does.

He was bare chested, black boxers being the only article of clothing he had on and with a dagger formulating in his hand as he neared the corner. No one has been up this late, and judging the cercumstances of where they were, you could never be to sure with the enemies that could pop up. Yet when he peaked around the corner, there was no enemy..

Her.

She had on.. very short shorts, a tank top with no sign of bra on as she kept her back to him at the stove. The dim stove top light was the only lighting she gave herself as she stirred something in the pop while his body relaxed with the non-threat.

Why was she up at this hour? He was only fetching himself a glass of water..

The dagger slowly vanished within thin air, his eyes starting from her ankles and slowly working their way up as he leaned himself against the doorframe. He had seen her in varies outfits- from work, to casual but never sleep attire. His teeth captured his bottom lip, feeling like he hasn’t blinked as he shifted himself by the slight growing reminder at how he felt towards her. Upon pawing at his boxers, he exhaled in slight discomfort and as soon as he noticed her body tensed, his hand moved to his side as she turned.

‘’oh! Loki-‘’ she gasped, quickly hushing herself as she grabbed her heart from the surprise. Her eyes seemed to widen at the sight of him, not exactly having seen him in his own sleep attire before- let alone shirtless. ‘’what are you-‘’

Playing it off quickly as if he hadn’t been staring for long a moment ago, he casually shrugged and moved himself towards the fridge with his eyes forward. ‘’I am merley fetching a glass of water, I am more curious as to why you would be cooking yourself a meal this late in the night?’’ he asked, glancing over at the stove as she turned off the burner.

‘’sometimes I just wake up with cravings- I wasn’t to hungry at dinner time so I suppose my body makes up for it now’’ she smiled sheepishly and leaned herself against the counter, watching him.

Loki gave a mild hum and a nod, taking a glass and turning around to face her. ‘’well do not mind me, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything’’ he smirked and slowly sauntered over to her.

He could notice her breathing picking up as he stood before he, having to tilt his head down a little to look at her as his height served as a reminder.

‘’n-not at all-‘’ she shook her head, sucking in a breath as he raised his arm while he held eye contact, their expressions steady at a stalemate before he reached around her, his arm gliding against her side before he pulled back with the water pitcher in hand. Looking embarrassed, her eyes moved over to the stove, checking on nothing which made him smirk.

‘’is there a problem?’’

‘’of course not- I’m just waiting for you to finish up.’’ She said with quick defense where he couldn’t help but chuckle, motioning around him as he poured into his glass.

‘’I am not in your way darling, unless of course you require things from the fridge but I do remember you favor that particular meal as is- plain package contents.’’ He said with no judgement- not anymore, he had wrinkled his nose the first time he had seem packaged ramen but held back his negative opinions when she had him try it one day.

‘’I know I just- am not used to working in the kitchen with someone around..’’ she said and rubbed her arm as she seemed to want to close in on herself.

‘’that is not try Y/N, I distinctly remember you having no issue working in the kitchen when one is present,’’ he corrects calmly and takes a sip of his drink, eyeing her before he sets down the glass beside him. ‘’I think you are merely just not used to one seeing you in quite the.. intimate attire..’’ he smirked and she picked up on his teasing, narrowing her eyes as she crossed her arms to seem stubborn but she really just tried covering herself.

‘’I am perfectly fine, Loki, with cooking in anything with anyone. I just enjoy my peace and quiet and wish to resume it as soon as you leave.’’

‘’quite the lie darling, how long will you be keeping it up until you remember what the god of I am?’’ he laughed, quickly lowering his voice as he leaned against the counter across from her, almost acting as a mirror as he rests his palms beside him on its edge just as she did.

He couldn’t help but notice her- not so subtle- eyes roaming over his chest in quick movements as if he wouldn’t notice. Did she admire him as much as he admired her?.. or wasn’t strictly just their forms they liked..

‘’..was it an innuendo?’’ he asked, seeming to surprise himself as the words came out.

‘’-what was?’’ she asked, raising a brow as she thought if she said anything right now that would make him think that but he clarified with a shake of his head.

‘’in our last fight.. when I was free.. before all,’’ he waved his hand around as his eyes slowly raised over to hers. ‘’this..’’ he cheeks reddened at the very pit he had dug himself but he had to ask. ‘’you told me.. that you would rather put my mouth to better use-‘’

‘’that was strictly involving interrogation-‘’ she said quickly, her cheeks heating up as she turned herself around, gripping the counter edge in her hands as she kept her back to him.

She was hiding, quite shy and although he was rather embarrassed himself upon asking the question, he quite liked the way he could make her squirm this was as she hid her face from him. ‘’all of it?’’ he asked slowly and she knew he was waiting to try to read on if she would lie to him.

Her eyes studied the countertop, her mouth searching for words while her mind raced before she closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘’no..’’

Loki’s heart seemed to jump in his chest, his eyes looking over her back.. backside to be exact while he listened to her answer. So she did want him.. he began to take a small step forward, watching how she stayed still as she kept her back to him but she was very much listening to his movement. ‘’as it may seem.. I want you to Y/N.. but not in just that way..’’ he took a breath, finding it easier to confess while she wasn’t piercing him with her eyes and he continued on.

‘’your not like the other mor- ..humans.. your strong, you help others, your not selfish and dare I say just as mischievious as me.. intreging.. I’ve often looked forward to the next time we got to fight if it so meant being just a little bit more close to you..’’

By now he was standing behind her, seeing how she kept her head low and her body began to shake as she drew in a breath. ‘’..i like you too Loki.. you make me feel like I’m alive.. you make me want to be better.. stronger.. free.. I knew since day one you were holding back in the fight for a reason..’’

He slowly rested his hands along hers, his body hovering just barely against hers as his chin almost rested against her shoulder. His eyes fluttered closed, taking an inhale of her sweet scent he loved so much while he shook his head. ‘’I couldn’t hurt a sweet thing like you.. it was you who told Fury to put me here, wasn’t it? Out of the cell?’’ he finally asked and she nodded a little, looking forward as she straightened a little, bringing her body up so her shoulder was resting now against his chin.

He took this as an okay to rest a little weight on her, his chin down on her shoulder while his hands moved to rest on top of hers. His body was so close to hers, he could feel her body heat radiating off of her skin and his cock throbbed as he could smell her arousal. Her sweet.. sweet scent..

‘’thank you Y/N..’’ he whispered, grateful every day to be stuck here if I meant being close to her like this. Glass between them didn’t cut it. His thumb gently stroked her smooth skin on her hand, his brows furrowing as the straining reminder and he took a shaky breath. ‘’..does the offer still stand?’’ he whispered, asking the same question he had asked a long time ago.

His body tensed, holding itself back to remain in control as she slowly nodded and whispered back, ‘’yes..’’

Moving ever so slowly, keeping in control and full prepared to stop himself if she would change her mind, he pressed himself up against her, his bulge resting against her ass while his chest pressed against her back. His hand slowly left her own and moved to her waist, his palm flat as it glided down her hip and moved so his fingers could dip under the edge of her shorts.

With one last hesitation as if she would change her mind, his hand moved into her shorts, dipping into her underwear and found out just how aroused she was. They both seemed to suck in a breath, her body beginning to shake as he buried his face against the side of her neck and hair.

‘’gods Y/N.. how long have you dripped for me..’’ he breathed and felt her body tense as she bit her lip.

‘’to long..’’ she whispered and felt the pads of his two finger tips began to rub lazy circles against her clit.

Her hips seemed to press forward into his hand, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder while his hand stroked through her folds. Her breathing was shallow and she arched her back a bit when he began slowly grinding his bulge against her ass, following the same rhythem of his hand.

His own body shook a bit, his breathing seeming to match hers as he nuzzled his cheek against hers, their eyes closed as they feel into the sensation of lust while Loki moved his hand so his thumb could take over her clit while a digit began ghosting her enterance, teasing her as he moved his finger barely in and out.

Her fists clenched as she bit her lip, the teasing slowly driving her made and she could almost see the smug look on his face as he waited for her to give him what she wanted. She wasn’t having that and instead, pushed her ass a bit into his crotch, pushing him a step back before pulling his hand out by her wrist before she turned herself around.

Loki smirked, following her intentions as his hands moved to her waist and helped her jump onto the counter, her legs spread while he made quick work to pull her shorts and panties off all in one go. He had to take a pause, the sight to beautiful to just admire as his hands gripped the counters edge alongside her spread legs while she rested back on her palms.

His mouth seemed to water at the sight of her cunt, ready and waiting while he sank to a knee. The care if someone would walk in was long gone for them both as Loki moved his hands to grip her hips before he dipped his head between her legs. The very taste of her had him pulling her forward so she was closer to the edge, her legs shaking to almost squeezing his head while her own rested back with her eyes up to the ceiling.

‘’fuckk..’’ she breathed, her fingers gripping the edge as he moaned, lapping her center while his vibrations helped her along to build her pleasure.

Silver tongue alright and he couldn’t get enough of her as he ate like a man starved. He lapped through her folds, taking turns suckling at her clit and tongue fucking into her center while her hand moved to his hair.

His locks were silky smooth, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair while she panted for her sweet release. His careful slow movements made her eyes flutter open, noticng how he slowed as soon as her cunt began clenching against his tongue and she bit her lip. Replaying his tongue with the pad of his finger, he kept her on that glorious edge while he rubbed into her clit, raising his head as he smirked up at her.

‘’say it.’’

She held her breath, cheeks heating up as her fingers gripped his hair, knowing he was to strong to pull him back down herself as his eyes pierced hers. With a shaky breath, she knew what he wanted.. she knew for so long what he wanted..

‘’please.. oh god please Loki.. please let me cum..’’ she begged, a whine in her tone as tears of sexual frustration build up pricked her eyes as he gave her that all to familiar smirk.

‘’as my lady commands,’’ he purred before moving his hand back to her hip and replaced it with his tongue, plunging it in and out of her center while the tip of his nose rubbed against her clit.

Her hips began bucking, her grip tightened in his hair before she threw her head back and moaned, shamelessly moaning his name as her eyes fluttered closed while she came. Loki wasted not a single drop as he drank her in, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs soothingly, almost like that alone was telling her good girl..

With shallow breaths, she felt his mouth slow its movements, helping her ride out her orgasm while her body shook. Pulling his body back slowly, he gave each inside of her thigh a kiss before he raised himself to be nose to nose with her, his palms resting beside her thighs as he smirked.

‘’how’s that for holding back?”

Her eyes widened as her hands moved to grip his shoulders. ‘’you were holding back??”

‘’do you think I hold back just in battle darling? I do not wish to break my fair mortal’’ he smirked and his eyes glanced over her before flicking back up. ‘’we are merely in the kitchen, if you wish for a proper.. fucking, then to the bedroom we go.’’

Her cheeks heated up and the realization that it gets 10000 times better- impossibly- made her eyes flick down to his raging erection. That piercing gaze of hers moved back up to his own and she mirrored his smirk as she moved a hand down to where he wanted her most.

‘’how about we put my mouth to use too..’’

Loki smirked and pulled her forward, her arms wrapped around his neck while her legs around his waist.

‘’..i will accept that offer in.. full.’’

DM a song for your own Musical Mischief one shot!

Tag List: @foxherder @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

#loki x reader smut #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki #lokifluff #loki x reader #loki smut

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fatesundress · 2 years ago

Text

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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bingwriterxo · 1 year ago

Text

first time

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada have your first time together

warnings: smut (character is 18+), 18+ (minors DNI), fingering

word count: 2200+

author's note: here she is: awkward, rambling vada. also (slight spoilers but...) [insert booksmart scene here]

"Mom?" you called out mid-yawn as you made your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up more after the late-afternoon nap you had taken. When you were met with silence, you tried the other parent. "Dad?" Again, no response.

You shrugged as you walked into the kitchen, and your eyes narrowed as you caught sight of a piece of paper laying on the counter. You picked it up and read it over quickly, excitement surging through your veins.

Work trip this weekend. See you Sunday night.

- Mom & Dad

vada can come over :)

The last part was scribbled on like an after-thought, and you knew your dad had written it.

You dropped the paper onto the counter and pulled your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, immediately dialing your girlfriend's number. Leaning back against the counter, you waited for her to pick up.

"Hey." Her voice was groggy, like she had also just woken up.

"Were you sleeping?" you asked.

She hummed. "Yeah. Figured you were asleep when you didn't answer my texts so I thought I'd nap, too." You heard some shuffling on the other end and then Vada yawned. "What's up?"

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop yourself from grinning. "My mom and dad are gone for the weekend. They said you could come over. I've got the house to myself, so..."

"Movie marathon!" she shouted excitedly. You listened as she scrambled out of her bed, hopping around her bedroom in search for things to pack in her duffle bag. "I'll leave in, like, ten. Put something good on the TV!" You could hear her smiling through the phone.

"Okay, see you soon. Love you."

She squealed. "Love you!"

* * *

The movie playing on the television was boring you half out of your mind. You had chosen a random one that you knew Vada had been wanting to watch with you, and you had tried to focus on it for the first half-hour, but something kept distracting you. Well, something aside from your girlfriend's nonstop rambling.

"I used to have the biggest crush on Blake Lively as a kid, you know," Vada said, her eyes trained on the screen. Her hand was digging in the bowl of popcorn that was resting between the two of you, and you giggled as she shoved some of the snack into her mouth. "But, man, is Anna Kendrick hot," she mumbled around the food. "I mean, obviously I know she's hot, 'cause, like, I'm not blind, but something about her in this movie just hits different."

You weren't ignoring her, per se, but you definitely weren't fully listening, instead choosing to stare at your girlfriend's side profile as she munched on the popcorn and talked with her mouth full--a habit of hers that you had hated at first but now couldn't help find somewhat endearing (as long as you weren't looking at her face-on).

"And, well, Blake Lively is Blake Lively, and who doesn't have a crush on her?" Vada continued. If you had been paying attention to the movie on the screen, you were almost sure you wouldn't have been able to hear any of it over the girl's talking, anyway, so it was better that you weren't watching, right?

When she realized she hadn't heard from you in a few minutes, she glanced your way, and you smiled softly. She offered you a confused grin. "Are you not watching?"

You hummed and turned back to the television. "No, no. I am," you lied. You could feel her eyes on you, and you knew that if you looked at her, she'd be giving you that damn lovestruck look she always had on her face when she was around you, the one that made you weak in the knees and had your heart beating rapidly.

"Y/N," she said, calling your attention back to her. You had been correct--she was staring at you with a half-smile, like she didn't even realize her lips were upturned, and soft eyes,

"Yes?"

Her eyes flitted down to your lips quickly, then back to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

You giggled. "You don't have to ask, Vads. We're dating."

She shrugged, hiding in her shoulders for a moment. "I know," she said, voice shy and slightly embarrassed. "But I just wanna make sure every time. Because, like, what if one day I don't ask, and you don't want a kiss, and then--"

You pressed your lips to hers, effectively silencing her, and sighed when she kissed back eagerly. You reached down, pushed the empty popcorn bowl to the floor, and then easily maneuvered onto Vada's lap. She grinned against you, hands flying to your waist.

"I always like when you're on top when we make out," she began, "because I like the weight." She paused, eyes wide. "I'm not, like, saying you're heavy or anything, not that that would be a problem if you were, obviously, but it's like a weighted blanket! You know, like how they can help anxiety and--"

"Vada," you said softly, eyes flickering between her own.

She gulped, and her fingers twitched against your sweatshirt. "Yeah?"

"Could you just kiss me?"

She bit her lip. "Yeah. That I can definitely do."

Vada stretched her neck up, and you leaned down. You met in the middle, lips moving feverishly against each other. Your arms were wrapped around her shoulders, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, while her hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweatshirt, her skin warm on yours.

Her tongue swiped over your bottom lip at the same time as her fingers rose upward, the tips of her thumbs beneath your breasts. She pulled away quickly. "Are you not..." She moved her hands up a little more, feeling nothing except skin. "You're not wearing a bra."

You shook your head. "Nope." You grinned. "Is that a problem?"

"Definitely not," she breathed out, pulling you back into a bruising kiss. You groaned at the feeling, and she took it as an invitation, her tongue smoothing over your own. Vada's touch rose higher until she was palming your breasts softly, and you hummed against her.

After a moment, you nipped at her bottom lip and pulled away, your breathing heavy as you stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lips were swollen, and you gulped before reaching down and pulling your sweatshirt off. Her eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," she said as though she had never seen you topless before. You rolled your eyes with a smile because she had the same reaction every time the two of you did this, and then you leaned back in.

She seemed to still against you, and you reached down, urging her hands to keep moving. She took the hint, her thumbs beginning to circle your nipples, and you whined, your hips bucking up before you could stop them.

Vada pulled away and dropped her head to your chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your sternum until she reached your breasts. She took one of your nipples into her mouth, and you threw your head back, a soft moan slipping from your lips. Her tongue ran along the bud while her lips sucked on it.

"Fuck, baby," you groaned, arching your back to push yourself into her touch more.

Her hands dropped to your waist, though her mouth didn't stop, and she played with the hem of your shorts. "Do you wanna...?" she asked when she pulled back, staring up at you, her fingers dipping.

"Yes," you said quickly, nodding to emphasize your agreement. "Yes, please."

Vada grinned, circled her arms around your waist, and then carefully laid you down on the couch, resting between your legs. Her mouth was quickly on your chest again as one of her hands slipped beneath your shorts, her finger running over your clothed slit. You squeaked in delight, hips canting up.

"I can feel you through your underwear," Vada said. "You're really wet."

You nodded shyly, glancing away. "Yeah, well..."

She frowned and reached up, her free hand resting on your cheek and making you look at her again. "It's not bad. It's good. Really good, actually." She grinned, and you couldn't help your own smile. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I have no idea what I'm doing, really. Well, I kind of do, since, you know, I also have a vagina, but, like, I've obviously never had sex with anyone else, so I don't know if I'll do it right, and I want your first time to be good."

"Vads, baby," you cooed. "It'll be great if it's with you."

"Okay, okay," she said. She leaned up and kissed you again, her hand slipping beneath your panties. You both groaned, you at the feeling and her at the feeling of you. She rubbed your clit experimentally and you moaned.

"Shit," you cursed. "Yeah, that's--that's good."

Vada started circling it softly, and you couldn't help your whimpering. She was careful, a little too careful, but you weren't going to rush her, especially since it felt amazing.

"You can..." You gasped as she sped up a little. "Yeah, I was gonna say--"

"That's good, then?" she asked. Her eyes were on you, watching all of your reactions, trying to make sure she was doing the right thing.

"Very," was your short response.

"Can I...well, should I...go in?"

"Yeah," you murmured. "Yeah, okay."

Her hand pushed down just a little bit farther, and then--

Oh.

You gasped at the feeling. Vada glanced up. "Is that...okay? Or was it better earlier? Or--"

You gulped and looked down at her, offering her a half-hearted smile. "Babe...I--I don't think that's the hole you were going for..." you whispered, trying not to embarrass her. Her eyes widened, and a blush immediately painted over her face. She pulled out and then pulled away, even though you reached out for her, trying to bring her back in.

"Oh my god, oh my god. I am so sorry," she rushed out. "I just...I didn't even realize that I had gone down that far, and I just went for it, and--oh my god, I am so sorry, baby."

You grabbed at her shirt, pulled her toward you again until she was hovering above you. "It's okay, Vads," you promised. She was fidgety, clearly anxious, and you reached up, cupping her cheek. "Baby, I swear, it's okay."

She bit her lip. "I just fucked up our first time having sex. Oh my god, it's our first time having sex and I just...I just put my finger--"

You giggled a little. "It's okay. I'm fine; we're fine." You leaned up and kissed her gently. "Do you wanna try again?"

Vada looked at you hesitantly. "Can I?" she asked. "I kind of feel like I need to try to redeem myself and get my finger in the right place. Because, I swear, I know where it's supposed to go. I promise."

"Vada, please try again," you said, the pleading in your voice clear as day. "I really want you to."

She nodded. "Okay." She leaned down and pressed her lips to yours, a little rough in her nerves. You didn't mind, accepting the kiss happily.

Her fingers started to roam down your body again, and you inhaled sharply at the feel of her slipping beneath your panties again. Her fingers started at your clit, rubbing quick circles, and you moaned into her, her mouth catching the sound.

"Okay," she said, determined. "This time I got it." Her finger slipped downward, and you felt her pressing against your entrance. "That's right, right?"

"Yes," you said. "Yes, baby. Please, just--"

She pushed her finger into you and you groaned, back arching. "God, you're tight, baby. Feels so good."

"Fuck," you mumbled as she started thrusting. She curled her finger whenever she was fully inside, and it wasn't hard for her to find the rough spot of your walls. "Shit, shit, Vads."

She grinned and dipped down to your neck, lips hot against your skin. You could feel her kissing and nipping and sucking, but you could only pay attention to the fact that she was in you.

"You can," you started breathlessly, "you can add another one."

Vada hummed into your neck and slipped a second finger in you. You gasped at the stretch, hands flying to grip her hair. Her thumb reached up to play with your clit, and she quickened her pace. You were rolling your hips against her, whimpering.

"You're so pretty," she said, voice muffled. "So good, baby."

The praise pushed you to the edge. "Vads, I'm gonna cum," you whined. She thrusted into you hard once, and then again, and then you were cumming around her fingers. At the same moment your orgasm washed through you, her teeth nipped at your pulse point, and you shivered, fingers tightening in her hair and a moan of her name falling from your lips.

She pulled out of you gently, grinning smugly as she did, and you watched as she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them curiously. Her eyes widened. "Okay," she said decidedly. "Next time, I'm going down on you."

You chuckled and bit your lip. "You think there's gonna be a next time?" you teased.

Vada frowned. "I thought I redeemed myself pretty well," she huffed.

"I dunno. We might have to do it again...just to check."

She grinned. "Not a problem with me." And then her lips were on yours again and her hand was sliding down your front.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #the fallout #vada cavell smut

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eggluverz · 1 year ago

Text

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 638

SUMMARY. dan heng has an extreme fear of the dark and the astral express experiences a power outage. thankfully, you are there to help him through this.

SOF'S NOTE. thank you anon for this request!! :) i don't know anyone with nyctophobia myself so i hope i wrote it well enough! enjoy some hurt/comfort with dan heng,, i wanna craddle him gently in my arms :>

The Astral Express was known for being a fairly sturdy and reliable train. With close inspection and careful maintenance, it was natural to expect relatively smooth performance.

That was why Dan Heng was rather taken aback when a power outage took place.

The two of you were in the Archives, researching different topics of choice when he was suddenly no longer able to see the words in front of him. The room turned black and the only faint glow he could pinpoint was the small light from your phone screen.

Instantly, he felt suffocated. He looked towards the direction of his nightlight that normally brought him solace, only to see nothing but darkness due to the lack of electricity. Dan Heng’s breathing picked up as his chest grew heavy. He started to forget where he was and what he was doing— Instead being forced back to his moments in imprisonment, solitude, torture. He grew more and more panicked as his thoughts spiraled, unable to anchor himself to reality.

“Dan Heng?” he heard a faint voice, only slightly shaking him out of his thoughts. “Dan Heng…”

His name was repeated once more, but Dan Heng couldn’t process a thing with his eyes squeezed shut and his ears ringing. Everything was muffled and he felt lost.

Within moments, a gentle touch helped ground him to reality. That feeling was familiar. Warm and comforting. He knew it was you. You were here with him before the blackout, and you were still here.

“You will be okay, Dan Heng,” you said, voice soft but firm. You wrapped your arms around him in a steady embrace, rubbing circles into his back. “The power will come back soon and it won’t be dark anymore.”

He nodded, trying to calm himself down. Dan Heng knew that, rationally. Power outages were temporary and, with the quick and efficient attention from Pom-Pom, he knew the problem wouldn’t last for long. Still, it was difficult to let that knowledge be of solace.

“And while it’s still dark, just remember you aren’t alone here.” You held him closer and he allows his body to lean against yours. “You’re at the Astral Express inside the Archive room. You have me here, and Caelus and March 7th and Pom-Pom are all walking distance away.”

Dan Heng’s body, though still tense, was able to relax ever so slightly.

He wasn’t alone. And he hadn’t been transported back to imprisonment. He was here and you were right there next to him. When he finally got himself to open his eyes instead of keeping them strained shut, he was met with your concerned face faintly illuminated by your phone screen.

When his gaze met yours, you smiled.

“Look,” you said, gesturing to the small light. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s not complete darkness now.”

Dan Heng pulled you closer into his arms. “It is enough. Thank you.”

The dark may cause him extreme anxiety, but throughout it all, at least he had you.

“I’m sure the power will come back soon,” you reassured, running your hands through his hair with a hopeful look on your face. “But in the meantime, we can go see March 7th’s candle collection! And have Caelus or Himeko light them up for us!”

Dan Heng managed to let out a small laugh at your efforts

It wasn’t just you that was here for him. You reminded him that he had a whole community—a big family to fall on. And they were all there for him, too.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. Dan Heng cupped your cheek and smiled. You returned his gaze and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead, filling him with warmth.

He had people who would be there for him. But Dan Heng’s favorite little light in the darkness was always you.

#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #hsr #honkai star rail #dan heng #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #hsr x you #hsr x y/n

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dira333 · 1 year ago

Text

Roommates - Atsumu Miya x reader

From my Haikyuu Request game - requested by D.

Atsumu is already in the kitchen when you come home.

“Samu?” You yell through the apartment. “Your brother is eating my snacks again!”

“There’s no name on it!” Atsumu cuts in before Osamu can interject. “I checked.”

“Yeah, but you can’t read.” You drop your stuff on the kitchen counter and squint at the package in his hand.

“Never mind, that’s Samu’s.”

“Told you!” Atsumu gloats right until you smack him in the head with a packet of ground coffee.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.”

He mutters and grumbles but he stays where he is, chewing down the expensive cheese crackers Osamu seems to buy in builk.

You keep pretending he’s not here, knowing you’ll just lose your temper the second he makes you open your mouth.

That strategy has been working well the last few months and if you can keep making it work you won’t have to find a different apartment to move into.

Atsumu is lounging on the Couch when you come back from jogging, sweat dripping in your eyes as you lean down to untie your shoes.

“Damn, you go out like that?” He asks and you fling your sweat-soaked towel at him, sucking in a smile when he shrieks in disgust.

“Don’t you have training to be at?” You ask, proud of your even tone.

“Got sent home because I kept throwing up.” He moans and you turn on your heel to glare at him.

“And you come here?”

“Yeah?” His voice comes out whiney and child-like. “It’s not like I can go home to my mom, that’s too far away.”

You decide to leave him on the couch, far away from you.

Getting sick is the last thing you need right now.

But you text Samu in the privacy of the bathroom, chewing your lip as you wait for his answer.

With all the fighting the boys have going on, you’ve picked up right away that they do care for each other, just in their own way.

By the time you’re out of the shower, Samu’s in the kitchen cooking something and Atsumu is curled up on the couch, a hot water bottle pressed against his middle.

“I’m out.” You tell Samu quietly, eyeing the bundle on the couch. “You need anything?”

“Can you get me the lecture notes from today? You know Sazama, she can give them to you.”

“Ooh, Sazama.” You wink at him. “I’ll be sure to mention that you’re still single.”

“Stop that.” Samu moves to hit your shoulder playfully but you step out of the way, content to see the blush on his cheeks. You knew it.

Atsumu’s pretending that he’s not in your room and you’re getting sick of it.

“You know you’re not allowed in here.” You remind him from where you’re sitting at your desk, typing furiously as you try and finish that train wreck of an assignment.

“I’m not ‘in here’.” He emphasizes from where’s standing in the open door. You can see his reflection in the window if you squint and his left foot is clearly overstepping into your room.

“You are. You’re just exploiting the fact that I can’t get up right now to close the door.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whistles a tune, leaning further into the doorframe.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“No.”

You bite your tongue when your mind supplies another question. You don’t have time for this.

You manage to lose yourself to your focus but his voice pulls you out of it again.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“What?” You almost flinch at the sound behind you. “Sorry, what did you say?”

The look on his face is something you haven’t seen on him before. He pushes himself off the doorframe before you can place it.

“I’ll get you some water.”

“Uh, thank you?” You start before realizing that he’s going to use it as a ploy to step further into your room, the only space in the apartment you’ve managed to keep away from him - so far.

“Wait, I’ll get it myself.” You rush after him.

You’re not surprised to have one of the twins turn up in your room at their own birthday party. You’re just surprised it’s Atsumu.

“You’re reading?” He asks as the door of your room clicks shut behind him and he sags into your desk chair.

“Yep.” You turn a page, deciding that you can be civil for a day and not throw him out.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s for Class but it’s kinda interesting.” You take a sip of your water but his eyes stay locked onto you. Okay, that’s weird.

You clear your throat awkwardly and try to summarize the book, only to stop in the middle of your sentence.

“Okay.” You say and lower your book further to glare at him. “Spill. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re the social butterfly in this household. Why are you not with the others?”

“Can’t just come and check in on you?”

“It’s your birthday party, Atsumu.”

“Why do you never call me by my nickname?” The question comes out of left-field and you’re left gaping at him for a moment before you can form a single word.

“What?”

“You call Samu Samu and Suna is Rin. And just now you called Captain Shin. But you always call me Atsumu.”

“Shin’s my cousin.” You remind him and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I was getting at.”

Yeah. You know that. You just don’t want to think about it.

“Will you go back to the party if I come with you?” There’s that thing again, moving over his face like a shadow, too fast to decipher. But he nods and gets up, stretching his hand out to help you out of bed.

“Pajamas good enough for your party?” You joke.

“Seriously? I’m afraid you don’t have anything better in your closet anyway.”

He ducks out of your reach just in time.

Tsumu is sitting in front of your apartment door, when you get home, head hanging low.

You don’t have to text Samu, you already know the score. MSBY lost and you don’t know what’s worse for him. Losing or losing by an inch, knowing he could have won.

“Hey.” You tap his boots with your own. “I was going to watch that awful movie you’ve kept talking about. Want to watch it with me and make it more bearable with your commentary?”

He looks tired and spent when he raises his head but he nods.

You stretch out your hand for him and he eyes it for a moment before taking it, allowing you to pull him up.

He’s quiet when you prep the snacks, always two steps behind you in the kitchen.

On a different day, you’d yell at him for it, tell him to at least get the drinks ready. But not today.

He settles heavily on the couch, his knee knocking into yours as you make yourself comfortable.

You pull a blanket over your lap and pretend that this is fine. Everything is fine.

Five minutes into the movie his head falls heavy onto your shoulders and you let out a sigh that’s been caught in your chest for months now.

In two hours Samu is going to be home.

In four hours you’ll go to bed and pretend that everything is fine. That you don’t care at all about Tsumu sleeping on the couch, heartbroken and tired after a loss.

Something slips in your chest as if a dislocated joint finally finds its home again, and you dig your elbow into Tsumu’s side.

“What?” He grumbles and you swallow what’s left of the knot in your throat.

“Get up. You can sleep in my bed.”

“What?”

“I won’t offer again.”

You know you’re fighting a losing battle the moment he slips under your covers like he’s always been supposed to be there.

You know you’ve already lost when he curls around your side, his head on your shoulder, his arm a heavy weight across your stomach.

It feels like this is how it’s supposed to be.

Tsumu’s in your bed when you wake up, unfairly long lashes fluttering over sunkissed cheeks, nose crunched up in his sleep.

You turn slowly, partly to protect your poor heart from this sight so early in the morning, partly to get your phone.

You’ve got two messages from Samu.

“Hey, I know Tsumu was here but I can’t reach him. How was he when he left?”

The other, sent twenty minutes later, has your cheeks aflame.

“His shoes are still here? I think I’ll steer clear of your room tonight.”

You press your phone to your chest, too embarrassed to think of a response, knowing you’ll come face-to-face with him soon anyway.

Movement to your left pulls your attention back to the situation at hand.

Tsumu’s blinking at you.

Like this, in the early morning light, he looks like innocence personified.

He looks like Sunshine and easy laughter, like dancing in the rain.

He looks like someone who could break your heart and you’d let him do it.

That’s why you pull away, push yourself to the edge of the bed to get out, away, before this mess can get any messier.

His hand catches yours before you can, though.

“Stay.” He asks.

“Tsumu.” You plead.

You can hear the smile on his lips when he speaks.

“You’re calling me Tsumu.”

You shrug, cradling your heart in your hand, your back towards him to protect what’s left of it.

“Could you love me?” He asks, voice low and soft. “Like, not right now, I know that’s not possible, but, in the future? Is there a chance you could like me at least? I mean you’ve let me sleep in here and I know I’m a mess but-”

“I already love you.” Your voice is so quiet you hope he hasn’t heard you. But his grip on your hand tightens and you know he didn’t miss a word.

Tsumu is already in the kitchen when you come home.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you eating my snacks again?!”

“They’re Samu’s!” Atsumu grins at you from across the counter, cheeky and undeterred. “I checked.”

“I heard that!” Samu yells from the living room. “Give them back.”

“Come and get them.” Tsumu taunts as he leans forward to kiss you. You block him with a hand on his chest.

“Not the cheese crackers, Tsum. They smell so bad.”

“But baby!” He whines. “I want a kiss!”

“Brush your teeth first, then we’re talking.” You tell him flatly and he pouts before dropping the crackers and leaving for the bathroom.

You get back to putting the food away, grinning at Samu when he steps into the kitchen, an impressed look on his face.

“I never thought that would work.”

“Well, your cheese crackers are safe. Now keep your end of the deal.”

“Fine.” He huffs and grabs the opened bag of crackers from the counter. “Apartment is yours till tomorrow. Onigiri are already in the fridge.”

You roll your eyes at him. "We could order Pizza. Tsumu will survive without your food for one day."

"Tsumu can what?" Strong arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you back into your boyfriend, his minty fresh breath ghosting over your face as he put his head on your shoulder.

He eyed his brother.

"What are you still doing here? Don't you have a Date with Sazami?"

"It's my apartment too, you know!" Samu grumbled but he did not sound half as mad as he could get.

“Bye Samu. Stay away Samu.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #atsumu miya #osamu miya #tsumu #samu #miya twins #inarizaki #miya osamu #miya atsumu #kita shinsuke #suna rintarou

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lucy90712 · 1 month ago

Text

Buff- Gavi

For the last few months Pablo has been working really hard in the gym pretty much since the day he was allowed to do more he has been working on his strength. We have a gym set up at home and every morning Pablo gets up and works out before he has to go and do his specific training at the training centre. Some mornings I'll join him but I never work out properly as I just end up staring at him as his muscles flex while he lifts weights. For the last few weeks I haven't been working out with Pablo as I've been back at uni so I have classes in the morning and on the weekends I have essays to write. I know he likes when we workout together but I've just been too busy in the mornings but I promised him this weekend that I'd join him on a run.

Today however is Friday and luckily it's my day with the least amount of classes I have two but I'm done by 2 which is better than 5 or 6pm. I have a break between my classes so I used that time to get some assignments done so I have a free weekend. Once I'd finished my work I decided to give myself a break and just scroll through social media but I nearly dropped my phone when I opened Instagram. The first thing on my feed was a video of Pablo from training and my god did he look good his arms were huge and he wasn't even flexing he was just walking. I know he's been working hard but I haven't noticed just how much it's been paying off until right now. Of course I loved the way he looked before but my god does he look amazing now I feel like if anyone saw me right now I'd have literal heart eyes after seeing that video.

Trying to focus in my next class was near impossible all I could think about was Pablo and getting home to him so I could see his arms in person. Usually this is my favourite class and I spend the whole time writing notes but today when I left all I had written was the date and the topic of the lecture so I'll have to look back at what was actually said another day right now though I just want to get home. I never drive to uni as it's just a nightmare to park but the bus has never felt slower than it does right now and I wish I'd driven here.

When I finally made it to the house after a long bus journey and a walk I saw that his car was already back in the driveway which is exactly a what I wanted to see. As soon as I opened the door I heard Pablo get up and make his way towards the door, to my delight he had a sleeveless shirt on so I could see his arms for myself. He came towards me looking for attention but my hands went straight to his arms to feel them. They even felt different I could feel the muscles tensing under my touch which was honestly fascinating as before Pablo wasn't the most muscular guy he was strong but never to this extent.

"What are you doing?" He asked

"Just enjoying your muscles I saw you in training today and your arms looked so good" I said

"Thank you" he said getting a little shy

"Seriously when did you get this muscular you look so hot I couldn't focus in class as I was thinking about how good my boyfriend looks" I said

"I'm glad you like them" Pablo said getting even more shy as he doesn't know how to react to compliments

He let me enjoy his arms for a bit longer before he took hold of my hands and pulled me into a hug. The next thing I knew he'd picked me up and carried me to the sofa so we could cuddle because as much as he doesn't know how to respond to compliments he is definitely very affectionate. We talked about our days he told me about training and how much he's enjoying finally being back with the other guys and I told him about my classes all while he played with my hair and I watched his arms while I was talking.

We chilled for a while before Pablo suggested we go for a swim in the pool as it's really hot outside and because I was sweating just sitting down I agreed. He got ready much quicker than I did as I had to tie my swimsuit on and put my hair up so it doesn't get too wet as I just washed it. When I made it back downstairs Pablo was leaning on the edge of the pool waiting for me the way he was leaning really made his biceps pop. This man is definitely going to be the death of me he just looks so good and the way he was looking at me nearly made me melt. I joined him by sitting on the edge of the pool with my feet in the water, Pablo then moved to lean his arms on my legs while he just smiled up at me. His smile started out sweet but then he had that mischievous grin on his face which is never a good thing it only ever means he has a plan that he knows I'm going to disapprove of.

His little plan quickly became clear when his arms went around my waist and pulled me into the pool. He was nice enough to not let me get my hair wet but I still got water in my eyes because I wasn't ready to go underwater. When I recovered and could see again Pablo had hold of me to keep me out the water so I wrapped my legs around him so he couldn't dunk me in the water again at least not without going underwater himself. This didn't last long though as Pablo started to tickle me which made me let go of my grip on him which allowed him to pick me up and throw me in the water over and over. I would've shouted at him for doing that but I actually had a lot of fun and every time I was out of the water I could hear him laughing which made getting my hair wet a lot better. Eventually he stopped and held me to his chest so I could get my breath back.

"Are you just trying to show off how strong you are now" I joked

"Well you liked my arms so much I thought I'd show you what I can do now" he said

"In that case I'm very impressed maybe I'll have to join you in the gym just to watch you get even stronger" I said

"You do that anyway" he fired back

"Hey I work out too" I said

"Be honest you do the bare minimum to look busy thinking I don't see you staring" he said

"Ok you're right but can you blame me the view is always great" I said

"My view is pretty great too when you do squats" he teased

"You stare at me when I do squats?" I asked

"Of course how can I not I also stare at your pretty face when you stretch on the floor I just like to take in what's mine" he said

"Aren't you the cutest I like to look at your pretty face too" I said

That's when he got all shy again so to deflect the attention off of him he pushed me against the side of the pool and kissed me. If complimenting him is going to get me cuddles and kisses like this I might just have to do it more often.

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #gavi #football imagine

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ultralightpoe · 10 months ago

Text

High Infidelity - Coriolanus Snow

Authors Note: Yup. I wrote for him. Hate me for it. (This was also the first time I wrote him so it’s not the best characterization, but hey. It’s been sitting in my drafts foreverrrrrr)

Word Count: 5642

Warnings: Prostitution. Lmao. And really bad writing so be prepared for that.

Apart of the Midnights Album Event

My MAIN Masterlist is here!

(Thank you for the gif @youremyvioleta )

Enjoy!

Lock broken, slur spoken

Wound open, game token

I didn't know you were keeping count

Rain soaking, blind hoping

You said I was freeloading

I didn't know you were keeping count

Your mother had always warned you away from him, warning you of the terrible terrible things that came from his family, she used to sit you at the table and plead with you to stay as far away from Coriolanus Snow as you could.

“Everything with that family ends with bloodshed.” She had warned you, telling you to stay away.

You hadn’t, and you never would….. well at least you never thought you would.

You had grown up with Coryo, known eachother since you were just children and had survived a war together. Had gone through starvation together. Back then you hadn’t understood why your mother was so afraid of him, this was the boy that had shared a can of beans with you when you had nothing. And now that the Capitol was back you were still as thick as thieves.

“I’m sorry.” You rush out, staring at your best friend right now, tears sliding your cheeks. “I don’t understand Coryo.”

It had been months since you last saw him, his hair was shorter and whiter now, and his face set into a grim glare. But it was the eyes that were different, they were cold and dark, just making eye contact made you shutter.

You had rushed to the train station to pick him up, an expensive flower in your hand and a wide smile. That had promptly been wiped away the second he got off the train and snapped at you.

The words fuzzed a bit, but it was something along the lines of “I’m warning you to stay away from my family, you freeloading wretch.”

“Do I really need to repeat myself?” The smile he gives you is anything but warm. “What? Now that I’m back you want to tag along all the time? Steal my family's fortune and pretend you’re not a starving leech?”

“Starving Leech? When have I ever taken anything from you?” You bite back, hands curling into fists.

“I can give you an entire list of everything you have taken from my family.” He laughs. “And I promise you that there will be no more favors.”

“You….. I hadn’t realized helping eachother from not starving was a favor. You ate from my table to need I remind you.” You snap, a heat crossing your skin, casting eyes towards a pair of on lookers.

You didn’t have time for this, you had a shift at the med wing.

You said as much to him, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed as he finally took in your medical garb. “We’ll talk later.” He scoffs, and you walk off after that, set on never talking to him again.

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

It was nothing but sobs the night your mother passed away, cuddled on the floor of Coryos floor with his arms wrapped around you, trying to keep quiet just in case his grandmother woke up.

She hated tears, always thought them a sign of weakness.

“Shhh.” Coryo whispers, petting your hair back. “It will be okay.”

“What will I do?” You sob, feeling like your chest was caving in. “How will I survive?”

“We’ll find a way.” He whispers, using the pad of his thumb to rub the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sure Tigris can get you a job, and you can move in here if you need. Just take a moment-“

“I can’t. I can’t breathe.” You panic, hand snapping to his jacket as if he could keep you planted to the earth, your breathing ragged panting as your vision begins to blur.

“No. No.” He breathes, fingers snatching your jaw to make you look at him, digging into your skin. “Focus. Breathe. You’re stronger than this. Take. A. Breath.”

You listen, breathing in the same time he does, deep and open, breathing out when he does. Your nerves calm a bit, and you close your eyes as the tears keep falling. He pushes your head until it is laying on his chest. “Your mother just died. Don’t focus on the future, just let the pain settle. You’re safe here. I promise.”

And so you did, letting the sobs free as he held you all night.

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

“Did….. did you see her?” Tigris asks, keeping close to the doorframe of his room, hugging her arms close to herself as she watches him work at his desk.

He feels himself tense, spine stiffening so much a wave of pain passed over him, doing his best to seem natural about it all. “She will not be coming around anymore if that is what you want to ask.”

He would make sure of it, he would make sure no one took from him or his family ever again. Not that bitch from 12, not Highbottom and not….. you. You whose face filled his brain with sunlight and warmth, you who made his chest melt and hands shake from nerves.

He loved you, always had.

But that couldn’t be anymore. He was set for a pristine life now, he could not let his weakness get in the way. He already risked it more than he should have.

“She missed you. A lot.” Tigris sighs, moving a little closer. “And she…. Well she helped us scrap together money for care packages and rent.”

“I’m sure there was something she could get from it. Don’t worry.” Even as he says it his gut clenches. He didn’t believe it for a second, but this needed to be done.

“She….. Coryo she-“ Tigris seems to stutter over the words, closing her eyes as if just thinking about it dragged her into a wave of pain. He tries not to laugh because what did she have to hurt about? Living the plush life here as he fought for them in 12, fought for them in the games. Risked his life to make sure that girl survived.

“She. What?”

“She….. well once she found out we were short on rent and she had nothing to offer she…. Slept with someone…… for us.”

“How would whoring herself out help us?” He already knew, his heart beating through his chest as his hands began to shake, clenching them into fists so it wouldn’t show. He was going to be sick.

You wouldn’t have. No.

“For money. She made us-“

“GET. OUT.” He sneers, standing quickly. “Get out right now.” He watches his cousin dash from the room with tears sliding down her face, his own kings constricting at the news.

You couldn’t have. You couldn’t have.

Regret laces through his stomach, your face flickering through his mind. Of course you would. You would do anything for him and his family.

Storm coming, good husband

Bad omen

Dragged my feet right down the aisle

At the house lonely, good money

I'd pay if you'd just know me

Seemed like the right thing at the time

It had been a fools dream long ago that you would marry for love, nothing but a dream of a child that didn’t know better, hadn't let the world destroy her yet.

Now, you knew better. Staring at your soon to be husband, Festus Creed, with a small smile playing at your lips. You were trying to make it seem like you actually loved him, like you actually cared what he was saying as cameras flashed at you both. The light of it blinded you a bit, and you tried not to flinch while he merely laughed and gripped your hand tighter.

He saved your ass and the Snow’s asses. Playing pretty little fucking wife is a small price to pay. You remind yourself when he kisses your cheek. Just pretend. Smile and pretend.

You had sold yourself to Festus in the months that Coryo…. Coriolanus was gone. When you were barely making ends meet and his cousin and grandmother weren’t making it. You had known that Tigris sometimes sold herself to people that wouldn’t really know her last name, but she hadn’t ever been able to get the primary houses due to her family's nobility.

You could.

So, you offered yourself to Creed, a classmate of Coriolanus’ and one that he had warned you to stay away from. “A viper wearing human skin.” How ironic how things turned around.

You tried not thinking about Snow at all, tried to get his face out of your mind, but every time you got close to winning against your memory, he somehow managed to pop up. Every. Single. Time.

It had been months since that initial argument the day he returned. You had been a fool who planned on confessing your love to him, planning on asking him to marry you. Then he called you a gluttonous leech, and Festus proposed a week later. It should be history.

And yet, right on cue, you spot a light blonde head of hair making his way through the crowd quickly as you and your fiancé stand quickly, the crowd of cameras dispersing at the engagement party resumes its flow.

You tried not to sneer about the sheer amount of money these people threw at everything. Just a couple months ago you had been starving, and now you can only watch as dozens of tables were set up with ludicrously decorated desserts that wouldn’t actually be eaten. “Never eat the food in front of them. Makes us look bad.” Festus has told you before your first party with all of them.

“Might I go to the restroom really quick?” You ask him, trying to move around with his arm tightly wrapped around you.

“Of course.” He smiles, giving your hip a tight squeeze before his eyebrows pinch together. “Let’s greet Snow first. I’m sure your old best friend would love to see you.”

Wish I could say the same. You bite back the remark on the tip of your tongue with a pleasant smile, allowing Festus to lead you to where your old friend was finally cutting through people. He had a grim look on his face, he always did these days, and if you didn’t know better you would assume he was upset.

“Snow.” Festus smiles, “glad you can make it. I know game keeping has been keeping your attention these days.”

Something in your stomach clenches at the words, no matter how many times people spoke of it you still could not believe that he was helping with the games.

You feel his stare in the side of your head, but you keep your eyes firmly on Festus, playing with his hair a bit as you play the role of lovestruck girl. Festus glows at this, eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

Whether or not he knows you’re using him as an excuse you can’t possibly care, he likes that you’re rubbing it in Snows face all the same.

“How could I miss this…. Joyous occasion?” Every word is clipped, and you try not to roll your eyes. “It’s wonderful that you’re family is able to take the young medic in.”

You know the underlying meaning beneath the words, snapping to glare at him. A smirk slides onto his lips as his eyes spark with excitement, it takes you a minute bro realize you had just fallen into a trap he laid out. To get you to look at him.

“Well I’m no freeloader.” You bite out. “I’ll obviously keep working in the hospital.”

Festus barks out a laugh at this, hand tightening on your hip as his other moves to hold his stomach, pure humor on his face. “Oh darling. How outrageously funny that was.”

“How was that funny?” You ask, blanching a bit.

“You’re not going to work! How would that make my family look?” Festus laughs, leaning to kiss your lips. You try to kiss back, something tightening in your throat as a sharp sting begins to form in your eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry.

“I’m going to go grab a drink. Keep our friend entertained will you?” Festus smiles, squeezing your hip once more before moving to walk away, leaving you with Coriolanus.

You risk one look to him, already seeing that he was staring right at you, and take a small sip from the Champagne in the flute as you think about how to get away. You decide on “I do hope you enjoy the party. I’m going to make my way to the ladies room.”

And for a second you think you’re brilliant, turning on your heel to walk away quickly but he is fast, taking three easy steps and cutting into your path.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“We just did.”

“Did we?”

“What do you call that whole conversation with my fiancé if not talking?” You put on an airy smile, and fear freezes at you at the sheer anger in his gaze. Panic settles in, and you stand straighter, choosing to play offense. “Besides. You’re the one that warned me to stay away. What was it you said? ‘Or suffer the consequences’, wasn't it?”

His eyes shutter but otherwise he does a good job of playing calm, using one hand to pull imaginary lint off his jacket. “I believe so. But maybe I’ve decided I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong.” You snipe. “I was a freeloading wretch and now I’m not. Problem handled. We can go our separate ways and never speak again-“

“Festus was the one that paid you, wasn’t he?” His voice is low, but his eyes are screaming at you as he leans closer. “To help pay for rent. It was Festus.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You did. And he knew it, which was answer enough.

“I’m sorry you-“but you’re gone, dashing to find the bathroom.

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

The door to the Snow Mansion caught a little, letting some of the winter air in with you, your teeth chattering as you did your best to shut it. Managing to push all your body weight into the door to finally get it closed before you puffed hot air into your palms, the sack you carried heavy in your hand as you hear someone call your name.

Then he’s there, surrounding you in what little warmth he had, arms wrapped around you as you try to ease the shivers.

“Come in. We are burning some of mothers old romance novels for warmth.” He smiles, grabbing your hand and leading you to the fireplace where there were indeed pages from novels burning quickly.

“I brought this-“ you smile, holding up the bag of the goodies you managed to smuggle out of work. “It was someone’s anniversary and they had tables of food. I grabbed what I could before they threw it all out.”

A smile breaks out across his face as his cousin and grandmother both gasp and move to surround you. Before you know it you are all huddled close to the fire, eating quickly to try and ease the hunger, Coryo sitting close to you.

Once all the food is gone his grandmother retires to bed and Tigris goes to heat up water, leaving you with Coryo by the dying fire.

“I…. I always imagined small family dinners. Always wanted it for my own family, eating close together rather than a large table.” You admit, pulling your legs close to yourself. “Never did I imagine this though.”

“One day I’m going to get us out of this.” He mumbles, one hand reaching to hold onto one of your own. “And we will have that.”

There was that feeling of happiness rising in your chest as you looked at his determined face, leaning to kiss the corner of his lips softly. “I look forward to it.” And you believed he could make it happen, you truly did.

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

You could learn to love him, you were sure of it. Somehow someway you would fall in love with my Festus, provide him a child that would inherit his families vast fortune and you would see to it that your kid never had to worry about starving.

You would rake yourself over coals before letting your child do any of what you had to do.

Like right now, fake moans filtering from your lips as Festus had his way with you on a random desk in a study room you did not recognize. Not that it was surprising, this family liked their secrets.

Once he was done he smiled at you, kissing you quickly as he fixed his pants and tucked in his shirt. “Fix yourself up. We have an engagement party to get back to.”

And with that he was gone from the room, leaving you to fix the skirt and sink to the floor, using the side of the large oak desk to lean on.

The sound of the door opening barely draws your attention, sighing out as you stare at the bookshelf, trying to piece your nerves back together as you always did after Festus.

“Are you alright?” The tone was a mix between your old friends comforting voice and the new Snows voice, and you tried not to roll your eyes.

“I’m fine.” You snap, your spine stiff. “Go back to the party.”

“I should be saying that to you.” He mumbles, moving closer and sliding to sit next to you. “It is your party after all.”

“Yeah? Is it?” You mumble, scooting over slightly to get away from him. He merely follows you, sliding right next to you once more.

Before you can yell at him he is holding out a cloth napkin, filled with those crème cookies that filled the tables out there. Macarons, Festus had called them. But you hadn’t had one. Rich people liked to starve.

“Come on. We both know you want one.” He smiles.

“Does it have poison?” You snipe, remembering the reason he had been sent away in the first place. He had given that Lucy girl an advantage in the games. Poison.

“No, not for you.” He smiles, like you hadn’t just completely tried to chase him off. Then he grabs one and shoves the entire thing in his mouth, making a small laugh slip from you before you bite it down, rolling your eyes. “Do you remember my 13th birthday?”

“No.” Yes.

He had stolen sandwiches from his school lunch and you had somehow managed to steal chocolate chip cookies from some party you had been working at. You ate together in the park, huddled by a tree so no one would see you, whispering all the things you wanted to see in the world.

“It was by far one of the best birthdays I had ever had.”

“One of?”

“Well my favorite birthday was the one before the war. I got so many gifts my parents made me a playroom.” He smiles.

You try not to let the words sting, what were measly cookies to a playroom. That was the life he belonged in. Luxury.

“You won’t be working then?” He asks after a moment of silence. “I always thought you liked being a medic.”

“I haven’t been an actual medic for long.” You sneer, you had only earned the honor while he was gone. Before that you simply volunteered every morning before your actual job, taking lessons whenever you could scrounge up money.

“A short lived career then.”

“What do you want me to say? My husband won’t allow me to work then I won’t work. It’s simple.”

“I would need my wife to work.” He shrugs.

“Why? You wouldn’t want a freeloader?”

“No. I would be running for president of Panem. And I believe that a medic for a wife would help my votes.” He states bluntly, eyes catching yours as your own widen.

“I’m sorry?” But he doesn’t respond, instead he holds out that damned napkin of cookies again. And you snatch one quickly, turning away the slightest bit to eat it.

“You’ll think about it?” He asks, eyes never leaving you.

“Think about it? There is nothing to think about.” You laugh, wiping sugar from the corner of your mouth before using the desk to help you stand and stepping over him.

Before you could fully escape his hands snatch your calf, pulling you down until you unceremoniously fall into his lap. “I told you to stay away from Festus. His family is not-….. he won’t give you what you want.”

“He’s paying my rent Snow. I’m just fine.”

“What happened to family dinners? Or the 6 kids running around.”

“I can have that with him.”

“Can you?” He lets you go then, knowing his words hit the mark when your face falls.

You leave the study, trying to pretend things are fine for the rest of the day, but his words cling to you like a skin of a snake.

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

You would have loved the atmosphere of District 12’s underground space, the dancing and music, laughter falling through your ears and the best of their dancing jolting down your spine with every stomp and clap.

Though he never understood your fascination with the districts back then, during the games he was beginning to understand slowly, and seeing this he could.

“Let’s go get a drink.” Sejanus laughs, pushing him to the bar as he imagines you twirling through, stomping and clapping at the right times.

It’s that night, drunk and a bit out of it that he lets the words he had been holding back for years slip. Sejanus had been grousing on and on about how he knew Snow was a good guy by the fact that his closest companion had been a young student healer rather than a Capitol clone and Snow tried not to bristle as how easy Sejanus laughed off your history.

You had worked for everything, and yet the man in front of him made it seem like you had chosen the healer life out of pity, rather than your hardwork and dedication.

Then the words slipped, “She’s a rare one and that’s why I love her.”

His friends eyes widen, and so does snow, both breathing in for a second before a wave of laughter fills them as Lucy’s voice fills the room.

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

It had taken you 10 minutes to sneak out of the Creed mansion, and another 15 to walk to Snow mansion where he had asked to meet you.

He being Coriolanus, through a telegram sent directly to you earlier in the day.

The door sticks a little, just like it used to, but the rest of the place had been professionally cleaned and you kept to the front rug in the entrance so as to not drag mud in.

“What are you doing?” He asks, coming around the corner to look at you in the entrance. “I’m in here, let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait to see your panic at the clean floors, so you rush to take off your shoes before tiptoeing to the main sitting room he was in.

“You said it was urgent.” You mumble, looking around at all the papers strewn about. Some designs of outfits and dresses, some of creatures and set ups. “What is all this?”

“This, my dear, is the 11th annual hunger games.” He smiles, and you try not to shudder at how easy he says dear.

“Oh I see, you’ll be making the tributes wear extravagant gowns in the arena then?” You hold up a sketch of what looks to be an evening gown designed for district 3.

“Tigris will be styling and dressing them before the games now.” He explains, moving closer to you. “For if they wish to be performers then we shall let them. Give them all a fighting chance.”

“Like Lucy?”

He doesn’t answer, instead moving to pick up another sketch. “And now, once they are in the arena they will all wear the same uniform.”

“They won’t die in their own clothes?”

“They’ll die at the Capitol wills it.” He sneers, taking a second to regain his composure. “But this isn’t why I have brought you here today.”

“Okay….” He grabs your hand, pulling you to the desk and showing you plans and sketches. “I need your medical advice.”

“For?”

“For a poisonous sea creature.” You rear back at that, but he is quick to snatch your hand. “I just need to know how to prolong the death.”

“I’m not helping-“

“Please. I need you.” He admits, his hand still on you. “I always need you.”

“Coryo-“ it’s the first time you’ve called him that in forever, and he can’t help but rush to you, pressing his lips to yours quickly.

You kiss back, although your common sense is screaming at you to stop. And soon enough the kiss is deepening, and he’s shoving all the documents off the table to place you upon it, making quick work of stripping you down while trying to keep his lips to you at all times.

And you were ashamed to admit you found pleasure for the first time that night, allowing him to pull that pleasure from you over and over and over.

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret meeting me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

“He’s a mad man….” Festus mumbles, hand clenched on your knee. “A mad genius but a madman.”

He was right of course, you could do nothing but blink as the games unfolded before you, surrounded by his peers and coworkers as they all cheered and booed at the tributes.

You couldn’t pay attention, the gore beginning to get to you as well as the fact that Coryo kept glaring over at you and Festus from his podium in the center, eyes narrowing as a sneer coated his mouth.

You hated these moments, when you were anxious about the affair and when Festus was in the same room with the two of you. Don’t do anything stupid, you silently plead.

But when has Coryo ever played stupid? No. Everything he did was smart, three moves ahead.

“How about a wager?” He smiles to his friends, and you bite your lip. That scheming look not good.

“Yeah?” Festus smiles. “My moneys on district 2. Girl.”

Vivi, was her name. She had 2 sisters at home and was playing viciously. She would not win though, she had been bitten by a snake with slow killing venom, you would know since you helped Coryo make it.

“No. Money is far too boring.” Coryo smiles, ever the Capitol player. “How about we wager…… the healer.”

Festus freezes, hand tightening on your thigh in a searing grip that you know has Coryo seething under his calm exterior, those blue eyes lighting with a challenge. He hated when Festus was rough, which was more often than not.

Coryo preferred to be…. Rough in the sheets and gentle every other moment.

“You want my fiancé? Don’t you have whores for that?” Festus laughs, but there is no humor behind it.

“I don’t want a whore. I want a wife.” Coryo smiles, holding out his hand. “District 4, Mags.”

People begin whispering and smiling at the challenge, and you realize why Coryo had been talking too loud then, because Festus would look weak to back away now.

Festus risks a look to you, narrowing on your shocked look before taking Coryos hand. When the blonde walks away your fiancé leans in, “we will be discussing this later.”

After he won, if he won. He would make your life hell.

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

“Your mood swings make my head spin,” you admit, laying on the mattress lazily as Coryo sits leaning on the headboard, tracing his finger across your exposed back. “One moment you’re rutting into me like you hate me, the next your murmuring love sonnets.”

“Do the Creeds actually have money?” He murmurs, fingers dancing across your ribs. “Or are they pretending just as I had been for awhile?”

“They have money, loads and loads of it. So much that they burnt some of it for fun the other day to see how long it took to burn.” You mumble, keeping your eyes closed.

“Then why do you still look starving?” He asks, moving closer to curl around you.

“Because they only eat one meal a day, and it’s more of….. well they don’t like gluttonous people.”

“Surviving is gluttonous?”

“The rich have never made sense.” You admonish. “They starve themselves to prove they can, no sugar or dairy. No this or that. They don’t know hunger like we did.”

“I thought you were marrying him to stop that hunger.” He mutters, a bit of anger in it.

“I also have a roof over my head and warmth. There is more to it.” You sigh, not wanting this to be another argument as it was every week. “There’s nothing we can do Coryo. I get married after the games.”

“They talk about you like you’re a pet.”

“To them I am.”

Oh, there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

And it's never enough, it's never enough

“So this is what he does now?” Festus sneers, whipping his tie off as he storms into his room, dragging you in with him.

The games would last another night it seemed, and Snow sent everyone out as he was getting ready for the big finish.

“He is making it all one big game. Placing wagers and gambling. It’s bullshit!” You try not to roll your eyes at his outburst since he had been all about it before Coryo called him out.

But apparently you still somehow rolled your eyes and his face falls into pure rage as he begins charging for you. Fear coats your system as his hand latches around your neck, cutting off oxygen.

Before it could get worse there is a knock on the door.

“YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!” His little sister calls, turning on his screen to reveal the games, where many of the players are fighting a very large creature in the body of water.

“What is that?” Festus gasps.

“A sea monster.” You breathe out, watching with a small amount of excitement mixed with disgust as Mags plunges her spear into its eye.

Lock broken, slur spoken

Wound open, game token

I didn't know you were keeping count

Rain soaking, blind hoping

You said I was freeloading

I didn't know you were keeping count

But oh, you were keeping count

You married him on April 29th, a year later he ran for president and to no one's surprise he won.

You became First Lady of panem. And would of course bear tons of children.

He kept his promise, eating close together every night, making sure all his kids were well fed and never knew the hunger you both did. And when your youngest was blasted in the tabloids for her ‘pudginess’ Coryo made sure to send the writer and his family to District 7 and the very next year the oldest daughter of the family was chosen in the reaping.

You lived in constant disgust and amazement, the battle never ending.

You helped him come up with ideas for creatures and implemented healing and medicine into the games to at least give some of those kids a fighting chance.

“Remember when I warned you to stay away?” He asks one night, watching you from his spot on the bed as you get air at the window.

“Quite vividly.” You laugh, breathing in the night scent in his shirt as he lay naked save for a sheet. “Said I was a freeloader.”

“I was trying to push you away.”

“Gathered that.” You nod, watching him extend a hand before shuffling across the floor and climbing across the bed until you reach his hands where he pulled you in for a warm kiss.

“You are a freeloader.” He teases, his lips still against yours. “You owe me so much.”

“Oh do I?” You laugh.

“Yeah! You owe me a can of beans, never got paid back for that.” He smiles and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll go get the dirtiest can of beans, expired, and it will be just like old times.”

Before he can say anything else you are pushing to kiss him again, falling into his warmth with a hum and letting him drag you under the sheet.

(Yeah. It stayed in the draft because I never quite liked how the story worked….. something always seemed off. I rewrote this 10 times back then, but since I am releasing my old drafts this baby is out now. )

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #Coriolanus angst #Coriolanus fluff #snow smit #snow smut #snow angst #snow imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Coriolanus snow smut #Coriolanus snow angst #Coriolanus snow fluff #Coriolanus snow imagine

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candycandy00 · 1 year ago

Text

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

There will be one more part after this! I thought about just doing one big long part 3 but when I got into it, I realized the story flows better this way.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Rough sex. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

A few days later, you wake up to Toji’s voice speaking somewhat harshly. You spot him across the room, holding his phone to his ear.

“This is short fucking notice!” he says, his eyes narrowed angrily. A pause, then, “Alright! Fuck it, I’ll pick him up myself! …Am I still on the list? You know what I mean, the list of people they’ll let pick him up at school! They don’t just let any rando show up and grab a kid! … Yeah you do that. Okay. Later.”

You raise up in bed and he looks over at you as he drops his phone onto the dresser. “Sorry about that. Looks like you’re gonna meet Megumi after all. My uncle has something to do today.”

“Really? That’s great!” You can’t suppress the excitement in your voice. You get to see Toji in “dad mode”. The thought has you giddy.

He gives you a flat stare. “You’re gonna be disappointed. That kid isn’t cute at all. He’s a sarcastic, rude little brat.”

Despite his words, you could sense a feeling of affection that Toji seemed to be trying to hide. “He sounds like his father,” you say teasingly.

Toji frowns, feigning offense. “Excuse me? Do I have to put you in your place? I can probably borrow a belt from Nanami.”

You laugh, pulling the covers off yourself, showing him your nude body. “You don’t have a belt?”

“Not like his,” Toji says, crawling onto the bed. “His are all Italian leather. You’ve seen my wardrobe. It’s ninety percent sweatpants.”

“You look good in sweatpants,” you say as he climbs on top of you, kissing your face and neck. “What about picking up Megumi?” you ask.

He doesn’t bother looking up, his face buried in your chest. “School lets out at three. We have a few hours to kill.”

All at once he rolls over onto his back, pulling you on top of him. The way he can just sling you around turns you on so much. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. The fact that he could easily break you in half, but instead is surprisingly gentle with you, makes your skin tingle with delight. It’s like you’ve tamed a great beast.

He’s lying flat on his back, and he puts his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose. “I gotta conserve my energy if I’m gonna be taking care of a kid today,” he says with a grin. “Why don’t you do all the work?”

You get to your knees, straddling him. You bend down to kiss his lips. “Such a lazy trainer,” you say, sliding your hands down his soft cotton T-shirt, finding the bottom hem and then pushing the fabric up to reveal his muscled abdomen. You pull the front of his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock, already hard and ready for you.

As you scoot back down a bit, you lock eyes with Toji as you lean forward and run your tongue over his dick, letting your saliva drip all over it, getting it nice and wet. Then you straighten up, get in position, and sink down onto him. You don’t go all the way down at first, only halfway. Toji groans and gives you an exasperated look.

“You teasing me now?”

You smile as you move your hips in a circular motion. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say playfully. “Is my big strong trainer feeling frustrated? Does he want to be buried all the way inside my wet little pussy?”

His eyes are gleaming as he looks up at you, his hands finally moving from behind his head to grip your waist. It would be so easy for him to pull your body down, completely shoving himself into you. He doesn’t, but the thought that he could at any moment, his strong hands firm on your skin, thrills you.

“I can hold back if you can,” he finally says, a smirk on his face. “But I know this needy little cunt is hungry for my cock. You’ll never be satisfied until I’m all the way in.”

He’s right of course, but you feel like teasing him a bit more. You roll your hips, making shallow thrusts, as you use one hand to play with your nipple, the other moving down to rub your clit. You moan, arching your back, giving Toji an incredible view. You’re trying to goad him into pulling you down, holding your hips in place while he fucks up into you so hard you cry. Glancing down at him through half-closed eyes, you can see the unbridled desire on his face. He wants to absolutely rail you, that much is obvious.

But he’s holding back, waiting for you to be the one who gives in first. So it becomes a game to see whose desire wins out. You want to be stuffed full of him so badly, but you stay at the halfway point, moving slowly, touching yourself, watching the way his eyes rake over your form.

“Toji… Toji!”

His name is delicious on your lips as your eyes close, your head tossed back. His cock is twitching inside you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He’s close to giving in, but so are you. Several more minutes of this, and your legs are weak, shaky, aching to collapse. Just when you’ve decided you can’t wait any longer, Toji’s grip tightens and he yanks you down, plunging his entire length into you.

For a moment, you see stars. His tip has crashed against your cervix, leaving you gasping. Toji grins beneath you as he thrusts up once, going so deep, tears spring to your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “My little doll gettin more than she bargained for?”

You clench tightly around him, drawing a grunt from his mouth. Your hands are on his stomach, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “S-so deep…Toji!”

He waits, not moving, just watching you. Then, you begin riding him, moving up and down, moaning each time you slide all the way back down, relishing the way he fills you so completely. His large hands glide up from your hips to grope your breasts as you bounce on his cock, crying out his name like a mantra.

After some time passes, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity, you climax with a loud wail of ecstasy. You slam your body all the way down, taking him as deeply as possible, and clamp onto him. You look down at him with dazed eyes. “Please shoot your cum inside me,” you say in your sweetest voice. “My womb is thirsty.”

Toji rises up suddenly, now holding you firmly in his lap as he presses into you, burying his face in your neck. He kisses the warm flesh there first, then bites it, his teeth not breaking the skin but grazing across your neck hard enough to leave a mark. It surprises you, but the animalistic way he growls as he does it sends you to a higher plane of existence. Almost simultaneously, he cums directly into your deepest place, coating your insides.

Your arms are wrapped tightly around him, as if you can meld into him if you hold him close enough. You’ve never loved him more.

Later in the day, Toji leaves the house to go pick up Megumi at school. You’re so excited that you can’t sit still. You move from the kitchen to the dining hall to the common room, occasionally running into other trainers or dolls. And when Toji finally returns, there’s an adorable little boy with unruly black hair trailing behind him.

You meet them in the welcome room. Toji is carrying a dark blue backpack in one hand, and with the other he lightly pulls the boy forward. “This is Megumi,” he says, then he gestures toward you. “Megumi, this is-“

“Your sex slave, I know,” the boy says. He wears a somewhat sour expression as he glares at Toji.

Toji sighs. “See? I told you this little brat isn’t cute at all.” As he says it, Toji lays one large hand on the boy’s head and ruffles his hair. Megumi jerks away and starts trying to smooth it back down, but it was already messy to start with, so he isn’t having much luck. You can’t help smiling at their interaction.

Stepping forward, you grin down at Megumi. “I’m your dad’s friend. We’ve known each other for a long time now. We met at the convenience store.”

The boy looks at you suspiciously, as if he doesn’t entirely believe you. “But you’re still his sex slave,” he says matter-of-factly.

Toji frowns. “Please stop saying that. You don’t even know what that means.”

A smug grin appears on Megumi’s cute face. “Yes I do! It means she has to do whatever you say! And you make her kiss you! And… do other stuff!”

Toji bends down to face him. “What other stuff?”

Megumi’s face reddens, and you feel certain that the boy only has an extremely vague idea of what that other stuff might be. Thank goodness. “W-well, I’m not gonna say it out loud! I’m a gentleman!”

You can’t suppress a laugh as you watch them. You step closer to Toji and put an arm around his waist. “I can promise you, Megumi, your dad and I are friends. He doesn’t make me do anything. I hope you and I can be friends too.”

Megumi stares at you, and you notice that he has Toji’s eyes. “Why bother? You’ll be gone by the next time I come here. Then there’ll be another girl here.”

You know he’s just a child, and what he’s saying is probably true, but those words cut you deeper than he could imagine. Still, you kept your friendly smile plastered on your face.

Toji put a firm hand on Megumi’s shoulder and ushered him down the hall. “Don’t be rude, Megumi. You’re never gonna have any friends if this is how you talk to people.”

You heard Megumi’s voice responding, but they had already went into one of the unused rooms so you couldn’t make out what he said.

***************

Toji walks into the dining hall at dinner time and does a sweep over the room to make sure all the dolls are dressed and nothing obscene is going on. He told the other trainers that Megumi would be here, and they’re normally good at keeping things decent when the kid is around, but Toji still likes to make sure.

Everyone appears to be on their best behavior. None of the dolls are naked or have tails sticking out of their asses, and Sukuna never brings his doll to the dining hall so Toji doesn’t have to worry about him.

Once everything is clear, Toji goes to get Megumi from the room he’d left him in to play video games, as well as his doll, so they can all three eat together. He doesn’t really get why his doll wanted to meet and spend time with Megumi. In Toji’s experience, most women are turned off by the fact that he has a kid. A son is just walking baggage to them. And the few that do take an interest in Megumi quickly lose that interest after meeting him. Megumi has a prickly personality, probably because of the way he’s being raised. Toji is acutely aware that he’s to blame for that. Shuffling the kid around to different relatives can’t be good for him.

But despite Megumi’s hurtful comments earlier, the doll still wants the three of them to have dinner together. So when they all walk in together, Toji groans when Megumi immediately runs over to Nanami’s table and sits with him. Nanami’s doll, sitting in her own seat instead of Nanami’s lap, seems amused as Megumi begins chatting with the other trainer. Toji usually doesn’t mind that Megumi speaks more to Nanami over dinner than he does to Toji in a year, but just this once, he hoped the boy would sit with him. If only for his doll’s sake.

Toji gives her an apologetic look as she takes a seat, but she smiles and shrugs. “It’s no big deal. If he likes sitting with Nanami, let him.”

Toji fixes plates for himself and his doll, then watches as Nanami goes with Megumi to the food table and fixes the boy a plate. Toji often wonders why Nanami doesn’t just settle down and start a family. The man is a natural born father. Hell, sometimes he even thinks about asking if Nanami wants to adopt Megumi. The kid would be far better off that way.

During dinner, Gojo walks over to chat with Megumi, who always pretends to find Gojo annoying. Toji can tell, though: Megumi likes Gojo a lot. Probably because the white haired trainer acts like a big dumb kid half the time. Geto and even Choso go over to briefly talk with Toji’s son. He’s never said anything to them about it, but Toji is extremely grateful that they treat Megumi so well. Sukuna, at the very least, doesn’t complain about Megumi’s presence.

At some point Toji glances at his doll, who is watching Megumi with a warm expression on her face. He nudges her playfully with his elbow. “What are you so happy about?”

She looks up at him. “I was just thinking he looks a lot like you. I can’t help picturing you as a kid. I bet you were cute.”

Toji snorts. “Me? Cute? Never. I was a mean little shit.”

She gives him a pouty look. “Whaaat? But you’re cute even now!”

“And you need to get your eyes checked,” he says with a laugh.

His doll is quiet for a moment, then her face looks serious for once. “I wish I knew more about you,” she says, her eyes lowered to her plate, where she absently stirs some mashed potatoes with a fork. “I don’t want to pry too much, and I don’t want to stir up any painful memories… But if there are any good memories, any happy stories you can share… I’d love to hear about them sometime.”

He looks away from her, to his own plate as he stabs a piece of steak. “I’ll think about it,” he says as he begins chewing.

Later that night, Toji’s doll steps out of the room to grab a snack in the kitchen. When several minutes pass without her returning, he goes looking for her. On the way to the kitchen, he stops outside the room Megumi is using. He hears voices, so he cracks the door open and silently looks inside. His doll is sitting on the edge of the bed beside Megumi, playing a game with him. Their backs are to the door, and they’re focused on the game on the screen in front of them, so they don’t notice Toji at the door.

“Oh, come on!” his doll says. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s part of the game,” Megumi replies smugly, “of course it’s fair.”

“How are you so good at this?”

“I play this a lot. It’s the only game here.”

“Really? Your dad needs to get you some new games.”

Megumi snorts the same way Toji did at dinner. “I’ve told him that before. He doesn’t listen, or he doesn’t care.”

“I can bring a few of my old games here and leave them,” she says.

Megumi’s head turns slightly toward her. “Okay. Thanks.”

There’s silence for a moment, then Megumi speaks again. “I feel sorry for you. Having to do whatever that guy says.”

It hasn’t escaped Toji’s notice that Megumi very rarely calls him dad. It’s always “that guy” or “old man”.

The doll doesn’t seem fazed. “I told you already. Your dad and I are friends. And I’ll tell you a little secret: I’m in love with him.”

Megumi pauses the game and looks directly at her. “Are you joking? Why would you love him?”

Toji feels his heart beating faster for some reason. Megumi just straight up asked the question he’d been wondering about for weeks now. He supposes kids can get away with being so direct.

“At first, I just thought he was handsome and cool,” she says, turning slightly to face Megumi. “He came into the store where I worked a lot. And he was fun to talk to. But then one night a bad man came into the store and tried to hurt me. Your dad saved my life. And when I was scared and didn’t know what to do, he stayed with me and made sure I was okay. He showed me so much kindness, even though he didn’t really know me that well.”

Megumi stares at her for a moment, then looks back toward the tv and unpauses the game. “I still think he’s a loser,” the boy mutters.

Toji figures he deserves that. He hasn’t been much of a father to Megumi.

The doll is looking at the tv as well, the controller gripped tightly in her small hands. “I don’t know enough about the relationship between you two to comment on it. It’s not my place to say you’re wrong or you’re right. But to me, your father is a great man.”

Megumi glances at her again, this time his face looking slightly uncertain. After the match is over, with Megumi winning again, the boy gets up and goes to turn the PlayStation off. He looks back at the doll and says, so quietly that Toji barely hears him, “I hope you’re still here next time.”

Toji steps out of sight before Megumi can spot him, continuing down the hall and leaving the door slightly cracked. In the kitchen, he grabs a bottle of water and a bag of chips, just to have something to bring back in case his doll beats him back to his room.

As he leaves the kitchen, he bumps into the owner, who stops him in the hallway.

“Oh, Fushiguro, I wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” he asks, cracking open the water bottle.

“It’s about your doll,” the owner says in a smooth voice. “We have a potential buyer. He’d like to meet with her this week.”

Toji’s entire body freezes in place, the water bottle inches from his open mouth. He blinks, then slowly lowers his hand. “Already?” he asks.

The owner gives him a strange look. “It’s been four weeks. That’s when we usually start interviewing buyers. …Is everything alright?”

Toji nods. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I guess I just lost track of time.”

The owner is still looking at him as if he might be sick. “Take care of yourself,” she says before disappearing down the hall.

Toji heads back to his room, suddenly feeling irritated.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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ezzydantes · 1 year ago

Text

Telling the Monster Trio you're pregnant...

Author's note: Just light fluff and lovings from our Monster Trio after you tell them that you are pregnant.

Luffy

You had spent two years with Luffy while he had trained. You had been the one to pick up the pieces after Ace had been killed at Marineford. Your lover had never really been the same after, hellbent on getting stronger so that he didn't have to lose anyone that he loved ever again. He had vowed that he would not lose what was left of his family.... you.

While the thought made your heart swell with love and adoration, it also began to break because of the trauma you had both endured during it. You had fought alongside Luffy as he tried desperately to save Ace. The both of you finding an inner strength that had been hidden and potentiality that needed to be exploited if you two were to carry on in the New World.

Rayleigh had been a saving grace for you both. Teaching you and Luffy the ins and outs of using Haki as well as building on fighting separately and as a team. However, there was one thing he had not been expecting the last six months of his proposed two year training schedule for you both.

"So you're pregnant?" he quietly asked as Luffy slept with his head on your lap, holding your right hand to his chest.

You simply smiled, knowing you couldn't hide the fact from Rayleigh. He had a sixth sense about EVERYTHING it seemed. "Yes... I haven't told Luffy yet because I am not so sure myself...not like we have a doctor here..."

"I can tell you that you are... and I know that you have a well enough intuition being a woman, that you can tell....", he stated matter of factly.

"I know what you are thinking... a pregnant woman at sea is not meant for the future King of the Pirates..." you scoffed as you raked your fingers through Luffy's hair... ensuring he didn't wake up.

"No... what I am thinking is the two of you will need to consider long and hard what a child would do to this dream of freedom that you have. It will definitely nullify it", the elder man raised his eyebrow at you.

"You think I haven't considered that? That I haven't brought up to Luffy that eventually being together the way we are will result in a child? He's well aware...", you whispered as you started tracing your lover's face before leaning down and kissing his forehead, "You can say what you want, Silver King... we will make our way in this world as we always have... together...ALL of us..."

Rayleigh smiled at this. "Then I will only say this... hold onto each other because there will be a time that will either make you both stronger... or break you...."

"Fair enough... ", you smiled as you leaned against the tree and shut your eyes. Luffy turned to sleep on his side and wrapped his rubber arms around you, nuzzling into your hip as he did so. "Mmmm.. I love you, y/n..."

"I love you too, Lu..." you sighed as you began to drift off to sleep.

The next morning Luffy was already awake, trying to find something for the two of you to eat for breakfast. When he returned he gently shook your curled up form. You had at some point nestled down onto the ground from your sitting position against the tree in the middle of the night, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "Hey! Sleepy head!" he shouted as he threw the large beast he had caught on the ground in front of you. You moaned at him, "I'm still tired Luffy...."

His hand immediately shot to your forehead. You were never one to sleep in, not in all the years he had known you. "Are you sick? Are you okay?"

"Luffy..", Rayleigh warned. Let her sleep... she's tired."

"But we still have training to do...", the young man pouted as he kept feeling all over your face, trying to find any sign of fever.

"Lu... I'm fine... ", you stated groggily as you sat up, "I'm just really tired today."

"You've been acting differently the last few days...", Luffy hinted, "What's really going on?"

You looked to Rayleigh who merely shrugged his shoulders. "It's your business to tell him... so I think I will simply go this way..." And with that their teacher walked towards the jungle without as much as another word. This caused Luffy's eyebrows to raise. "What's going on?"

"Luffy... you know how I told you that if we kept sleeping together...without taking any precaution that there might be a baby born from it?" you started to explain but was quickly shut up by your lover snatching you up and into his lap as he sat down. "Are you pregnant?"

"Possibly... I won't know for sure until we are somewhere that I can be tested...", you began but Luffy immediately shut you up with a kiss. He clung to you tightly like you were the last bit of breath on this Earth. He relented on his passionate kiss and began peppering kisses all over your face, before resting his lips on your forehead. "I thought that might be the case... and if it's true.. I couldn't be more happier..."

His lips speaking those words against your flesh was mind altering. You couldn't help but blush and embrace him tighter to you, eventually burying your face in his chest. "I was worried..."

"I know this is going to be a BIG step for us... and it's going to change a lot of plans... but I am still going to be King of the Pirates....and you will be Queen... we're going to be free for the rest of our lives and our child... will be happier for it", he whispered into the crown of your head, "I always wanted us to have kids... I can teach them all kinds of things!"

His excitement warmed your heart. You took his face into both of your hands as you looked up at him. "Its not going to be easy...", you began but he quickly shut you up yet again with his finger on your lips.

"I am training to be stronger for you and my crew. That includes our baby... I will NOT lose anymore of the ones I love...", he stated very seriously as he pulled you back into his chest, "You, this baby, our crew... you're the only family I have left and I refuse to lose any of you."

You couldn't help yourself and blamed it on the hormones since you were normally not so emotional, but you began to cry and cry and cry... you had never cried so much in your life. "Thank you, Luffy..."

"No... thank you. I have a kid that will grow up to be an even better pirate than me one day!" he began laughing as he wiped your tears away. You could only shake your head and giggle through the sniffles as you buried your head back into his chest.

Zoro

You and Zoro had been in Wano not even a week before you noticed he was enjoying his time there. In all of your adventures and traveling together, you had never seen him more in his element. He had met master swordsmen and craftsmen and looked like a child who had been introduced to a candy shop with no budget to speak of.

It truly warmed your heart to see your lover in his element. but you knew that something might change his attitude. You had recently visited a doctor during one of the few moments that Zoro had left you alone. He had confirmed what you already knew... you were pregnant. It had to be that time a couple of months ago during your reprieve from the crew on your own. Luffy had granted you and Zoro time alone and you had taken off to an island that you had wanted to visit for a while... Grekko.

It reminded you of your homeland that had been taken by the Celestial Dragons long ago to serve as their own vacation spot. It had the bluest waters, the greatest food (many dishes that were from your homeland), and hanging gardens in the central most part of the island. Zoro had taken you to a resort there with the money that Nami had actually helped him save up. She had even talked down the prices so that you two could enjoy more on the amount she had helped him set aside and more.

The view from your balcony in your suite was breathtaking. You could watch the sun rise, the sunset, and even the full moon. He had planned it perfectly so you could see all three based on your descriptions from childhood. He proclaimed to you that he had loved you since he laid eyes on you at 10 years old. Hence why he asked you to remain by his side after Kuina passed. He had considered you HIS since then. Once Luffy was King of the Pirates, which was just a matter of time, he wanted to marry you. After making love for hours that night, Zoro decided he couldn't wait. He wanted you to be his wife then and there and threatened a priest to perform the ceremony. While the both of you wanted your crew there, it was a special moment. You and he had tried to plan things out accordingly throughout your lives, so the spontaneous idea to wed on the island was new for you both. A mutual decison...

You and he had talked about children but agreed to wait until the right time to start having them.... and this was the most inopportune moment to have one. You guys were setting up to go against Kaido... an Emperor and being pregnant during this time was dangerous.

Your thoughts were keeping you from sleeping and nausea was beginning to set in from the stress of it all. You clawed your way out of your husband's embrace to stumble to the toilet where you barfed your heart out. Zoro had naturally woken up from you tearing yourself away from his embrace, so he came to check on you. He was half asleep and naturally grumpy from the way he had been awoken. "Oi..", he called out as he walked up to the scene in front of him.. the gruffness immediately leaving him as he saw you puking your guts out, "Baby... are you okay?"

He leaned down to hold your hair out of your face and crouched beside you at the toilet. He rubbed your back with his free hand and kept reassuring you that you were fine. "Zoro... I need to tell you something..."

"You're pregnant... ", he deduced as he continued to rub your back, "I figured after Grekko... if I didn't get you pregnant then..."

Your green-haired swordsman chuckled to himself when you looked back at him with shock on your face. "Baby... not to brag but I fucked you into that bed so many times and in the hots springs... as many times as I came inside of you, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a baby..."

"You're not upset?" you questioned. Timing could not have been worse.

"I've always wanted a child with you.... someone to carry on my name in one sense or the other.... to teach the sword... my greatest dream besides becoming the strongest swordsman in the world is having my kid surpass me...", he stated honestly as he wiped your mouth with a wet cloth he had just procured.

"But our lives... your oath to Luffy...", you began but was quickly silenced by him grabbing your face with both hands.

"Luffy will be happy for us... he may be an idiot but he knows good news when he hears it...", he assured as his thumbs began to gently stroke your cheeks. You couldn't help the tears that came slowly at first, until your husband held you to his chest and then it was an all out bawl fest.

"I love you so much, y/n and our child...", Zoro cooed into your hair as he held you tight to him.

Sanji

"I'm pregnant...", you announced in the kitchen early in the morning before the rest of the crew could interrupt the two of you. Sanji immediately dropped the knife he was using to cut up veggies for the omelets he had planned to make. His cigarette dropped onto the floor as he whirled around with hearts in his eyes.

"Y/N LOVE!!!!!" he screamed as he ran to you and engulfed you in his arms, holding you tight to him, "REALLY?"

"Yes... Chopper confirmed it yesterday but I asked him to keep it secret until I could tell you.... are you happy?" you smiled, knowing damn well your man was over the moon about you carrying his child.

"Y/N!!! ARE YOU KIDDING????" the cook shouted as he began twirling you around in his arms.

"BABE!!!" you shouted, "Don't do that!!! I'm already sick to my stomach..."

Your cook immediately stopped and sat you down in a chair. He began feeling your head with one hand and placing his other on your stomach. "I'm sorry... its just..."

You couldn't help but smile as he began to weep. Black Leg Sanji fell to his knees before his lover and held you close so that his face was next to your womb. "I wanted you to carry my children for so long.... ever since the Baratie when I told Zeff I was going to make you mine..."

You hugged Sanji close to you combing your fingers through his hair as you whispered how much you loved him and how you were his completely even before you were pregnant, which caused the man who had always had a stiff upper lip to fall to pieces in your embrace. Between his sobs and declaration of love and protection for both you and your child, he kept rubbing his head against your womb and kissing it reverently.

"Sanji... Baby...", you cooed as you lifted his head up to look at you, "This is going to be hard.. you made an oath to Luffy...."

The cook quickly stood up, never letting his embrace on you break, keeping you and the newly formed life within you close. "I will never let you or our child get hurt... and neither will our crew..."

"I know..", you gently caressed his face, wiping away any stray tears, "Our child will be protected."

"How far along are you?" he quickly changed the subject, "And why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You laughed at his pouting face. "I wanted to be sure and as I said I wanted Chopper to keep it secret until I could tell you.... "

"You don't even know how happy you've made me, Love", the cook pulled you to his chest and kissed the top of your crown, "You've made me the happiest man in the world..."

"Would you prefer it be a boy or a girl?" you innocently asked. He quickly pulled you from him with his hands still gently, but firmly on your shoulders as he looked you straight in the eye. "Be it boy or girl... I am going to love our baby because its ours... yours and mine."

"Shall we tell the others?" you smiled. He grew serious in the moment and picked you up bridal style. "No... I want you both to myself for just a little while longer."

Sanji began to walk to your shared bedroom and ignored some curious glances from your crew mates.

"Hey Sanji! When are you making lunch?" Luffy called.

"Make your own damn lunch... I'm spending time with my family!" the cook growled as he pushed past Franky.

"Whoa what's with the attitude, Bro?" the cyborg asked.

"Y/n is pregnant! She needs rest and I will need to make her a snack...what are you craving, Baby?" Sanji asked as he continued on his way leaving a stunned Franky in his wake.

You couldn't help but giggle at this. "Well I don't know what Baby is craving... but I would like some cucumbers and carrots... with some ranch? Maybe some pickles... oh and lots of water... I've been craving water like crazy....", you began listing off things.

Once inside the room, Sanji stated he would fulfill of your needs and encouraged you to relax and maybe take a nap. Once he was down getting your snacks together he admitted he didn't mind taking a nap with you.

"But what about the rest of the crew?" you earnestly asked. You felt bad if he didn't fulfill his duties just because he knew you were pregnant.

"They know how to fend for themselves and Luffy can't break the lock on the fridge. It was one special request I put in with Franky while he was building the Sunny...." he stated matter of factly.

"Smart man.... ", you teased as he leaned in for a kiss.

"By the way... I know you need your rest but...", Sanji coyly hinted.

"Of course...I heard it was good for the baby and I am already pregnant so...", you wiggled your eyebrows.

"Oh you're going to be the death of me my Love...", the cook grinned as you entered your shared bedroom, "Don't hold back..."

"Wasn't planning on it", you grinned as you squealed from him gently throwing you on the bed and immediately draping himself over you, shirtless. You laughed at the fact that he was quick to get undressed and even more so to have you the same way.

Hours later you two revealed yourselves and announced the joyous news to the rest of the crew, who already had an idea due to Franky freaking out by Sanji's casual statement. The crew celebrated with a party, which Sanji simply sat with you in the corner of the kitchen, enjoying being cuddled up with you and your growing child. He did not drink because he wanted to make sure he was within his senses to take care of you and the baby during the night. You didn't mind his over protectiveness... knowing it would be part of his demeanor from now on being a father. You simply rolled your eyes and enjoyed his embrace, longing looks, and sweet nothings he kept whispering in your ear. You couldn't help but feel overjoyed at the fact that you couldn't have asked for a better partner and the family that you two shared.

#monster trio #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #one piece x reader

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propertyofwhitney67 · 11 months ago

Text

My Little Pet

Yandere M!Whitney x AFAB!Reader

(Inspired by this post)

Tw: yandere Whitney (?), kidnapping, dubcon, pet play, fingering, PinV sex

Words: 786

Note: I’ve never written anything yandere so…eh

I should have known better than to disappear for so long, but it wasn’t my fault. And I didn’t think he’d do this.

I woke up with a pounding headache, the last thing I remember was being hit upside the head. I looked around, finding myself locked in a large dog crate as Whitney angrily paced the room. I shivered and realized he had taken my clothes, at least he filled the crate with blankets and pillows. I grabbed one of the blankets, wrapping it around me to keep the cold away.

I kept quiet, knowing better than to bother him when he got like this. I sat curled up in the far corner of the cage, waiting for him to finally say something. He hadn’t said a word since I woke up, only pausing every so often to stare at me.

He finally stopped pacing and crouched in front of the crate, “You know why I took you, right?” I nodded obediently, “Good…Only I can kidnap you. Not that freak, not the weirdo in the woods, only me.”

I looked around his room more, not much was different besides the crate and an ankle cuff with a chain attached to his bedpost. He noticed me staring, “That’s for when you’re not in your crate.”

I nodded slowly, taking everything in. It was a lot, “What about when you leave? What do I do then?”

“You go back in your crate, can’t have you making a mess. But since I’m home, I’ll let you out,

as long as you promise to be good.” I nodded and he unlocked the crate, letting me out.

Once I crawled out of the crate he picked me up and placed me on his bed, then got the ankle cuff to put on me. He locked it around my ankle and gave it a tug, testing its strength. It held firm. He nodded to himself, happy that it didn’t budge.

He pushed me onto my back, “Now be a good pet and do as I say.”

I nodded and answered meekly, “Ok.” He crawled atop me and nudged my legs apart with his knee.

“Good…” He groped at my body harshly, “You’re my slut.” He reached down between my legs, brushing his thumb against my clit. “And I can do whatever I want with you.”

I whined and squirmed, “Whitney…” He ignored me and plunged two fingers into my cunt, scissoring me open in preparation for his cock. “Ah!” I moaned and weakly grabbed at his arm, “Wait-Ah! Whitney, please.”

He continued to scissor me open, “Don’t complain, pet.” He pinned my arms above my head and looked me in the eyes. “I could make it hurt, but I’m being nice.”

I whimpered and nodded, ”‘m sorry…” He smiled and let go of my arms, going back to scissoring me open and rubbing my clit.

Once he coaxed an orgasm out of me he decided I was prepped enough for his cock. He undressed and crawled atop of me, “Mine.” He growled in my ear, thrusting into me forcefully. I moaned in pleasure and pain as he bottomed out, it was deliciously painful.

He stilled for a moment, caressing my face. “My obedient little pet.” He leaned down to kiss me, “All mine.” He set an oddly soft and slow pace.

“Why…?” I whimpered, “I-I didn’t mean to.” I tried to hold onto him, but he pinned my arms down again. “It-” I let out a sob, “It wasn’t my fault.”

His famous anger reared its ugly head at my words, “I don’t care, shut up!” With his free hand, he slapped me.

I cried out and choked on a sob, “Please…” I begged as he sped up his pace, becoming rougher.

“Don’t make me gag you, Y/n. Shut up and enjoy it.” He growled, “You’re always begging for me to fuck you.” He roughly grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. “Now, my little pet, I can at any hour of the day.”

I took deep breaths trying to calm myself, not wanting to anger him further. I nodded shakily at him, “You can…you can have me whenever you want.”

I quickly grew to love being Whitney’s pet. He took good care of me, fulfilling my every need. He even trained all my holes to make sure I was always ready for him, stuffing my holes with dildos and plugs while he was gone. He was the perfect master, even letting me sleep on the bed if I was good. But in return, I had to cockwarm him like a good pet. He needed a warm hole to be able to sleep and I was that hole.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

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illuminatedquill · 10 months ago

Text

The Measure

A Sabine Wren Analysis

Natasha Liu Bordizzo, the actress for Sabine Wren, recently gave an interview discussing Sabine’s narrative arc towards becoming a Jedi (snippets of which can be found here).

I’m not going to discuss the argument whether Sabine should or shouldn’t be a Jedi although, speaking for myself, I’m absolutely for it even though, yes, I’m frustrated as to not knowing the reason why she wants to be one. What I am discussing in this post is the interesting commentary that Natasha provides on Sabine’s battle with the bandits she encounters while on Peridea:

"During the interview, Bordizzo also said the fight with the bandits was a key moment because Sabine started out trying to fight like she always did, and she almost lost. It wasn't until after she drew her lightsaber and had to try to focus on the person she wanted to become that she was able to make a connection. This is not only a great metaphor for life, but it is also true to Sabine's character and honors her history. After all, learning to use the Force through battle is such a Mandalorian way to grow in the Force."

This is a level of nuance that I hadn't noticed before in the fight scenes with Sabine so, naturally, I had to go back and re-watch all of them to see if the narrative arc rings true.

And it does. There's a deeper context to those scenes now that I'd like to analyze and what that means for Sabine's ongoing narrative arc for her character, not only in this season but, potentially, in the next one. For Sabine, it isn't so much the ongoing struggle with touching the Force that is driving her inner conflict - it's the reconciliation between the two natures within her: the inherent Mandalorian nature she was raised on and the newly emerging Jedi nature that Ahsoka is trying to instill.

Let's go to the first one in Ahsoka 1x01, where Sabine duels against Shin.

Sabine's first big fight in the Ahsoka series sees her do something strange: she doesn't pick up her Mandalorian armor or blasters. It's a far cry from the Sabine we know in Rebels who wouldn't be caught dead without her usual armament, especially since it would be specifically useful in a duel like this against a lightsaber wielder.

Sabine grabs her lightsaber first. This is important to note. She effectively eschews her Mandalorian upbringing in favor of the Jedi training, believing it to be the best choice in this situation.

It's a definite sign that things are different for her this time around; Sabine is trying something new. The recent visit from Ahsoka and the promise of finally being able to find her old friend, Ezra Bridger, has reignited a desire within her - to be something else.

To be something more. The classic call to adventure that every hero feels before going on their journey.

But, as we all know now, this battle doesn't end well for Sabine. Shin is well-trained and stronger in her capabilities than she is. Sabine is left on the cusp of death, saved only by the intervention of her master, Ahsoka Tano. It puts quite the dent in Sabine's confidence and she struggles to make up for it in the battles to follow. Matters aren't helped by Ahsoka, either, who continues to show a reticence in furthering her training.

It's Huyang who breaks through Sabine's excuses for why she continues to fail with this simple line:

Huyang: The only time you are wasting is your own.

With Ezra's life on the line, Sabine has to decide, once and for all, who she wants to be. There's no more time to waste, no more excuses to be had. She accepts the lightsaber back, but her confidence is still shaken from her duel with Shin.

So, she falls back on old ways. She finds her Mandalorian armor and equipment and wears it once again.

Her reunion with Ahsoka later on is the first time we see the former Jedi Knight express something else other than disappointment with her former Padawan. Which connects to how Ahsoka sees Sabine and her issues, as revealed later on in Ahsoka 1x06 during a conversation with Huyang:

Ahsoka: I don't need Sabine to be a Jedi. I need her to be herself.

Sabine has always been an interesting character because she is simultaneously focused and driven, yet fractured, unsure of herself and her innermost feelings. It's an aspect of her character that was shown during Rebels - especially in the standout Trials of the Darksaber episode - but in Ahsoka we really see her issues stand out in stark relief. Struggling with her training as a Jedi, Sabine's flaws become detrimental to any further progress. This wasn't an issue during her time with the Ghost crew since they operated as a team, with each member covering for the other's weaknesses. But now she only has herself and Ahsoka to rely on, with the latter still not finding it easy to trust her.

Ahsoka hones in on Sabine's true problem: she feels as though Sabine is trying to be something she's not. Not in the sense that Ahsoka doesn't believe that Sabine shouldn't be a Jedi - rather that Sabine is trying to follow in what she perceives to be how a Jedi should fight and act (presumably based upon her experiences fighting alongside Kanan and Ezra), which clashes against her Mandalorian nature.

To be a Jedi is to be in tune with your feelings and yourself. It's not necessarily following some Code but in understanding your place in the wider universe and how you can best contribute to it. And that is something Sabine seems to be searching for during this post-war period: her sense of purpose, her sense of self that goes beyond what she knows. It heavily implies to me that Sabine is dissatisfied with how she currently is and seeks to attain the best possible version of herself.

The problem, as pointed out succinctly by Ahsoka, is Sabine's trying to do that in the wrong way. She's cherry picking parts of herself and the Jedi path, trying to see what works and what doesn't. What Sabine needs to do is embrace all of herself, even the parts she doesn't particularly like.

She needs to be herself. All of herself.

Even with reaffirming her Mandalorian identity and answering the call to adventure, Sabine continues to grapple with balancing her Mandalorian side with the Jedi side. As we reach the climatic events of Ahsoka 1x04, we see that struggle continue with her second duel with Shin - only this time, it's better balanced. Her Mandalorian armor and weapons make up for the gap in skills between the two combatants and Sabine fights the mercenary to a draw this time.

This is pure speculation on my part but it's not a stretch that Ahsoka had always been aware of Sabine's deep feelings towards Ezra (regardless of whether or not you think they're romantic, what Sabine feels towards him is still substantial considering what she did to find him). She approaches Sabine the wrong way in trying to get across how dire the situation is, suggesting that if the outcome is fixed then the best they can do is destroy the map, thus stranding Thrawn - and Ezra - in another galaxy, permanently.

Even though Ahsoka understands Sabine's issues and how she's struggling to find herself in the midst of this new path, the former Jedi Knight doesn't see how this approach is wrong. In not counseling and guiding Sabine through setting aside her personal feelings for Ezra, it made her vulnerable to them. It's a mistake long in the making since she found out Vader's true identity; the Jedi do not forbid emotions or feelings for others - they only forbid the attachments that come with them. Sabine's feelings towards Ezra should have been viewed as a strength, not a weakness.

It's an integral part of being herself, just like Ahsoka needs her to be. But she didn't figure that out until it was too late. Sabine handed over the map to Baylon, and the galaxy's future spun onto darker paths. She's arguably at her lowest point, not only within the series narrative but also her life. And Sabine knows it.

So, what changes for Sabine? How does she come to reconcile the two conflicting natures within her and become fully open to the Force by the series end?

She reunites with Ezra.

I've written before how finding Ezra changes many things for Sabine; how it restores her in so many ways that are hugely beneficial to herself and the path she now walks. He's a part of her that was missing for so long and having him back, alive and well, brings her not only back to her old self but also gives her the confidence and determination to truly step forward in her Jedi training.

There's a lot of expectations that have always been heaped upon Sabine; whether through her family, Clan Wren, or via Ahsoka, her Jedi Master. All of them had a specific version of her that they wanted to see realized. But only one person has ever seen and accepted Sabine for who she truly is, with no expectations placed upon her in return.

Ezra Bridger.

Rewind to the Battle of Lothal's conclusion; Ezra and Thrawn disappearing into a galaxy far, far away. Sabine and Hera watching his final farewell message to him, listening to what he's asking but not really understanding until later. And then Sabine, with Ezra's private message to her and her alone, realizing what he is truly asking: to find and bring him home.

Reuniting with Ezra in the present, I suspect, helped Sabine remember who she is and allows her to finally embrace the final missing part of herself, literally. Because Ezra Bridger did not ask Sabine Wren the Jedi to come find him. He had no way of knowing the path she would undertake in his absence.

No, Ezra Bridger trusted above all else, Sabine Wren - his closest friend and partner. He asked her to do the impossible, just as she was. He wouldn't have asked her to become a Jedi on his behalf to find him. He didn't need her to have Force powers or know how to properly wield a lightsaber.

He just needed Sabine to be herself and nothing else. That's who he trusted.

And that's who came to find him. Sabine Wren, his friend and partner - as herself.

When Shin and her bandits come to strike at the reunited pair, this growth in Sabine is immediately evident; she's much more confident in this fight, not struggling with the bandits at all in contrast to her first encounter with them. She smoothly switches from her blasters to the lightsaber when the situation demands it.

And then there's this fun scene:

Now that's a Mandalorian Jedi, if I've ever seen one.

The combination of Ezra's Force pull along with Sabine's use of the flamethrower to fend off Shin fully shows how she's combining both the Jedi and Mandalorian natures within her. They're no longer clashing - they're working in tandem to give her an edge in the fight. And she doesn't even have the Force yet.

The past and the future come to a head when Ahsoka arrives, at last. With her renewed faith in herself and in her Padawan, Sabine is finally given the final boost she needs to achieve what was previously thought impossible:

Ezra Bridger and Ahsoka Tano are, arguably, the two most important people in her life at this moment, much like how Kanan and Sabine were to Ezra during Rebels. Both represent different sides of her identity: Ezra, knowing her as the Mandalorian, and Ahsoka, knowing her as the Jedi padawan. When they're brought together and reaffirm their faith in her - Ezra's never wavering during his exile and Ahsoka renewing hers - Sabine can genuinely be herself. And that is what she needed the most to continue with her journey.

Sabine doesn't need to focus on being a successful Jedi or a Mandalorian. That's not the point of her journey. It never was.

She just needs to succeed at being herself. And with Ezra and Ahsoka having faith in her (you know Ezra would be understanding of what she did), then Sabine is more than ready to face the trials ahead and become the best possible version of herself; not strictly Mandalorian or Jedi.

Just as Sabine Wren, whoever she decides that is.

"Everyone fails at who they're supposed to be. A measure of a person, of a hero, is how well they succeed at being who they are." - Frigga, Avengers: Endgame

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #ezrabine #ahsoka tano #ahsoka show #star wars rebels #shin hati #natasha liu bordizzo #eman esfandi #ivanna sakhno #star wars #ahsoka meta

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 3 months ago

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Hiii, do you have any tips for drafting out embroidery patterns? I've got one in mind, but drafting it out and color picking is so nerve-wracking!!

[Hi!!!! this got kinda really long so I'm gonna crop it under a read more. And I honestly don't have any real training/instruction in fiber arts so this is just how I do things, and probably others do them very differently!]

Haha so my fandom embroideries are VERY different from my non-fandom personal pieces in this respect. For non-fandom things i just kind of throw myself in like WAHOO FREEFORM LETS GO and go for a kind of messy colorful approach that ends up as things like this:

Versus my fandom stuff is way more structured and designed to fill space, be very precise, etc. So for those I do go in with a digital mock up of the design I make in photoshop, that I then color in, and then as my last step translate to thread colors.

For my Dragon Age series. this has been because I'm specifically trying to mimic the stained-glass style of art you see in parts of the game like the dialogue wheels, some icons, windows, etc. The icons in particular were really easy to copy into embroidery because they already come in handy circles:

This is mostly because I have desperately wanted to pick up stained glass work as a hobby for like 6 years now. As in once every 3-6 months I put everything I'd need to start doing it into an online shopping cart and look at the price total and then sadly close the window because I just don't actually have any space I could do it in (I live in a 2bed apartment so i have no garage or yard or anywhere it wouldn't make everything else a mess or be a hazard). The day after one of those events I impulse bought and completed a floral embroidery kit from the craft store and kinda was like... ok, well, I did this once how hard can it be to use this medium to mimic the hobby I wish I could be doing? Plus, it's only like 60 cents per color! I can afford that! So I took the first design I wanted to do, the romance icon, and basically redrew it sloppily in photoshop, then freehand-copied the design onto fabric and stitched it the next day:

I learned a lot from this piece and changed my approach a little. Here you can see I tried shading in the parallel direction to my thread, which looked messy and added texture, so now I shade horizontally to my thread direction instead.

But it gave me a basic approach for turning the Tarot cards or DA Keep tiles (or any other art!) into embroidery patterns, which I couldn't copy as directly into this really smooth stained-glass style. There's a basic process I follow when doing these conversions that generally follows the same order, which I'll go through below.

STEP 1: SHAPES

The first thing I do is pick the shape of my display frame which is usually a circle, but could be an oval or rectangle too, since I hang the finished pieces on my wall to have nice way to show them off. I like to fill the whole space so knowing the size and shape of what I want the finished project to look like is a good goal for me. Since I am doing fandom pieces I want to be recognizable, I do stick pretty close to the "original" character design/art, but you can absolutely change as much as you want and freehand draw your own interpretation instead. If you're doing original art just substitute the below composition notes with "sketch out roughly what you want it to look like". I personally do my pattern drafting digitally as I find it easier, but you can do this part by hand too.

First, I keep the reference image I'm working off of open next to me while I work, and draw in the shape of my frame (here, a circle). If I'm adding in the little border to be fancy, I add a second inner circle. I keep these as their own top layer so I always know I'm working within the final "frame" and don't spend time designing any section that will fall outside it. Then I will take copies of the reference image and knock the layers down to 25-50% opacity, and start moving them around underneath the 'frame' layer until I like the way their positioning looks as a composition. Sometimes elements of a card I want to include don't all fit in, so I'll chop the section out and add an additional layer to throw in (like the background circle things in the Hermit design below). Or I'll just freehand things like adding much bigger diamonds behind Solas in my Hierophant design because I did NOT want to do 1000 tiny ones. Then once I'm satisfied with the general composition, I'll use the plain ol circular brush tool to trace out the major shapes of each element. I try to keep in mind that I can't go too small, and curvy lines are more difficult to fill in than straight ones. I usually do a rough messy version first, make it mostly transparent, and then a cleaner and more precise one over that.

(you can see parts of the rough one on the left and the fully 'cleaned up' on the right for the Hierophant design)

Now: depending on what you are doing next with the pattern, this might be where you stop and start coloring. If you are planning to freehand your design or just trace it onto fabric (or even print it onto fabric here), there's no need to do more than this kind of lineart! However, if you are working digitally and want to create a scalable vector so you can print it at different sizes, you can use the pen tool in photoshop to trace your design and make a "work path" of the lineart. However, another note: THIS PART IS VERY FRUSTRATING AND TEDIOUS BECAUSE THE PEN TOOL WAS CREATED BY THE DEVIL TO TORMENT US. It is so so so easy to accidentally delete a line or even the whole path and not notice later on. Ask me how I know 😭 Anyway I'm not going to include a pen tool tutorial because I don't even know how to use it well and have to google or watch videos every other time I try to use it. But if you can muddle through it gets you some really clean lines that eventually look like this:

With the work path selected, you can select the brush tool/size/color and use the "stroke path" option to create lineart of the vector. Then you can save this as a transparent png file for use at different sizes and for printing and it looks so nice and clean! one of the big benefits to this is that you get really fine lines that are easier to be precise with stitching on. This is extra perfect if you are printing the design directly onto your fabric (which you can do with an at-home inkjet printer for designs under 8inches wide, as long as you stick a piece of stabilizer on the back of your fabric and cut it down to printer sheet size--this is what I do and can make another post about that process if people want haha), or if you are printing onto transfer paper like you can buy at craft stores.

This is where I end the lineart for my designs. After I have this, I move on to the next phase, which is...

STEP 2: COLOR

For interpreting my designs into thread, I start by thinking of it as flat colors first. You can't "shade" as easily with threads as you can with things like paint or brushes in digital art (though you can A Little, which I will get into), so to start color planning I pick the "main" color each section will be in the piece.

For the existing icons this was simple--I kept the same sections as the original designs, so for each I just color picked or eyeballed the color in photoshop and colored it in (but you could do this on paper with pencils, markers, whatever as well--they don't need to match your threads exactly and usually won't, it's just to give you an easy reference to follow as you go). For the tarot cards which were more complicated in coloration, I just did my best and went with what looked good next to each other, even if it was a little off the original art. It will be off more later anyway when you have to pick threads so don't stress it too much honestly. I will often make layers with different color options and turn them on/off for direct comparison to try to determine what I think looks best as well, like below where I was debating between more blue/desaturated for the background or brighter colors.

I do wanna note I have regrets about the color selection, shapes, or shading in EVERY SINGLE ONE of my finished pieces. But no one else ever comments or probably even notices! One aspect of this hobby is just learning to be satisfied with what you've made and using what you learned to get closer to your preferences next time. I'm only going back and redoing some of my designs' colors because I want to make it easier for others to choose on the patterns I sell, more than I care for just for myself. Also since I'm doing this lineart/stained glass looking approach where I go over the distinct shapes with black thread at the end, it means I get these clear delineations between sections you might not necessarily have in your own pieces, and that's ok.

Ok right. Now while shading/coloring in detail is hard with thread, you CAN make whats essentially dithered gradients. "Dithering" in the concept of art means using 2 (or more) colors to give the impression of a third color, or to gently scale between the existing binary rather than a hard line. Think of it like blocky pixel art or gameboy game images. If you're doing needlepainting, you use really small stitches close together to get this effect, which translates to "smaller pixes"--if you look at the jellyfish in my first photos that's a very messy casual version of that. If you want a better example, I recommend looking at @ammocharis 's pieces like these in her pinned post, which are truly amazing! I simply do not have the patience myself 😂 For my stained glass style, I work only in very long straight stitches, so I can only shade in one direction and have to be a little more precise with it.

So for shading, I think about in each section which direction my threads might go. Then perpendicular to that direction I pick which side will be the light one and which the darker one. Sometimes I color this in on my pattern mockup, but sometimes I don't! Or I'll only do it for certain sections to make sure I don't forget. Like for my Tower design I only colored it as flats, and waited until I selected threads to decide how the shading would go. I am currently working on a smaller, simplified version of my Hierophant design and I did add shading digitally for that one just for fun. But it's not as important as having the flat color version you can use to quick-reference how you want your design to go while you're stitching. You might also notice I don't actually color my gold--I just throw in a stock image of gold foil for that layer so I can't confuse it with any of my yellow thread sections.

Here's a close up where you can kind of see what I mean by the "dithered" effect between colors--some are more obvious (like the red on the far left or middle orange) and others pretty subtle (dark grey to dark red on the wolf face):

Now, while I use single layers of satin stitches for this, and just alternate thread colors increasing/decreasing as I go, you can accomplish the same thing with short overlapping stitches like with needlepainting, or with clusters of french knots, or whatever else. But in GENERAL you are going to be able to trick people into seeing gradients out of dithering best when you are using the same type of stitch for that whole area. So if I was using multiple stitch types like having french knots, daisy chains, ladder stitching or whatever else for some sections, I would keep those to contrasting areas/colors. A fantastic example of using different layered types of stitching to create more intricate color/texture in an embroidery would be these incredible tarot card depictions by @hattedhedgehog, which I like even better than my own embroideries. Here's his take on the Tower card as well for comparison to mine (I'm so in love with it!!!).

But anyway, at this phase, your design is actually still digital--the above is just to explain how it translates later in the process. The next step is...

STEP 3: THREAD SELECTION

I will admit here I am not great at this part. I am constantly second guessing my thread colors, and can spend over an entire hour in the thread aisle at the craft store agonizing over choices. Really, I think this is just one of those things that takes practice and you get better at it over time. What I have had the best luck with is actually printing out a reference photo of my design/the original artwork and taking it with me. If you already have threads you can do this part at home too, but DMC alone has over 500 colors and I definitely don't even own half that so I like to torture myself by looking at them all together on the thread racks. Plus Anchor and Artiste and whatever other brands there are out there. One approach is to just sit there and pick out what you want for each section and line it all up together on top of your printout. Or in the case of my Tower I laid a bunch of options out on top of my template in the hoop to guess how they'd look in the frame.

For me since I am also doing this dither shading thing, I also need 2-3 colors per sections depending on its size. Sometimes it's easy and the threads have a color just a little darker or lighter right next to them in the numerical lineup! Other times, there is no good match, or it looks too far away to shade nicely, or I want one to be a warmer or cooler tone than the other... which means a lot of standing and fretting to myself over it. I actually take a lot of photos at this stage because it can be easier to see how they will look in the end from a photo than in person to me? Idk why. Plus then after they get scrambled in my bag I remember wtf order I meant for them to go in later. But as long as you're not preventing other customers from shopping themselves, you can spend as long as you want staring at thread in the embroidery aisle and they won't kick you out unless it's closing time, so take your time.

Now, IN THEORY, you can sort of combine steps 2 and 3 by color-selecting from your threads and using that to color in the design. However I have tried this and it led to mixed success because the photoshop eyedropper brush simply isn't actually that exact (in my experience, it desaturates compared to what we actually see). And because then you have to have the threads on hand while you're coloring... which means you might buy ones you don't end up using if you don't like them. So I prefer to just use this as a refinement step where I pick threads based on the design colors, then will re-color the design a second time to match those threads more closely to be sure I like the effect.

I've even used this as a tool when I needed to adjust my color choices mid-project, by digitally coloring over over my WIP:

Or here's a design (but I haven't posted the finished piece yet bc it's a gift so shhh) I made with certain color tones initially, but after buying thread I re-did the color mockup to be more vibrant, because I liked those threads better in the store:

Once you have your thread, you can make yourself a little reference chart with the colors you intend noted on the sections you want them, like below:

(note: i didn't end up sticking to these colors because I ended up dying my own thread for several sections. And then forgot I made this entirely and picked new ones because I put the project down for a year between design and stitching. Sigh).

Or for my Solas pattern I did this in a really detailed way, which i am sorry but i have redacted because... i have it for sale now and don't wanna just give that away haha. But if you buy the pattern from my shop this is one of the files you'd get with it, for ease of reference. I do also include a text-only list of them as well.

Now I don't go to this much trouble for all my designs, just the ones I put up for sale (or plan to). You can also just make a text list of your color plans if you want. Though for fun I also have been using my scrap thread to make these little "color palette" keyrings for my finished pieces, so if I ever remake them or update their patterns I will know what the original colors were, plus I can compare what i used to other threads if I wanna change part of the design up. This step is absolutely not necessary and I'm just doing it because I'm selling the patterns now, but they are kinda fun to look at.

And don't forget.. if you start a section in a certain color and decide you don't like it, you can just cut the threads and pull them out! I did that with my original hierophant piece actually. I had an entirely different color for one row of diamonds i thought just clashed way too much with the others, so I used photoshop to paint over it with some alternate options until I found one I liked better. Then I cut away all the old threads and put in the new color. It can be a little harder to fill a piece the second time since the fabric will have stretched out a little, but as long as you're using a good stabilizer it usually doesn't move too much.

You can also just make test swatches on spare fabric to test before you add them to your real piece. I wish I'd done this for some color transitions that didn't end up looking the way I wanted, but I am simply too lazy most of the time. My exception is usually for metallic, satin, or sparkly threads, because I want to know how they feel while embroidering. But if you're really worried about a certain color or shade it's a good thing to remember you can just do.

SO yep, that's my general process for drafting patterns. I start with the shapes/design, then do my flat color version, then I pick my threads. Makes it sound easy and short when phrased like that :) But I can honestly spend 8-10 hours just on making the lineart and coloring it in. If I was better at art, probably this would be less, but I'm working with what I've got (not much) 😂 I think all aspects of this are also something that gets easier over time, but it will probably never look as bad as you worry when you start out. I think all my pieces look awkward and rough right up until I do the finishing steps and move them to the display frame sometimes.

I hope this was helpful and answered your questions!! Feel free to post/share your WIPs to ask for feedback or advice ever too :) I've only ever had people in the embroidery community on tumblr be encouraging and helpful to me, and I'm happy to answer any questions myself when I can or if parts of this were confusing

#ramblings #my stuff #my embroidery #embroidery #dragon age embroidery #calicostorms #oh god tumblr changed the alignment of all my images so theyre all huge now great #WELL I keep tryign to rearrage them to be on the same line and it is NOT working so. thats how they will look i geuss #this is gonna annoy me all night... thats what i get for expectign a Functional Website though

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